Mismatch - By Nana Malone Page 0,43

they really are. And I keep my head straight. I’m whimsical sometimes, but I’m no airhead. Dad knew that.” She shrugged. “He figured I’d keep some idiot from stealing every dime he left my mom.”

“And I guess you’ve been doing a pretty good job of it.”

“Why don’t you let anyone photograph you?”

He shook his head, confused by the abrupt subject change. He shrugged. “Part of the mystique, I guess. I also like my privacy.” There. At least that part was the truth. Not like he could tell her he couldn’t let Samson’s past catch up with him.

“You’re going to have to get over the privacy angle. Once we have these exhibits, everyone is going to know your name.”

Eli ground his teeth. It was the risk they’d discussed. While Sam was rebuilding his career, they’d opted to keep a low profile on him. No need for the media to start a frenzy over his past before he’d had a chance to reestablish himself. Besides, Samson was more stable now. Even if his past caught up with him, it didn’t mean he would spiral down. Not as long as Eli was there. He changed the subject. “Enough about my privacy concerns. How’d a nice girl like you become an artist manger?”

She sucked on her bottom lip again, and Eli was riveted by the motion, the light tug of her bottom lip into her mouth. He swallowed around the lump in his throat.

Jessica toyed with the hem of her skirt. “Well, I’ve always loved art. Growing up, my parents’ house was almost as good as a museum. They had some renaissance and impressionist art, but they also had sculpture and pop art. They basically bought whatever they liked. They patronized the arts, gave money, supported new artists. I’ve been in that world my whole life.”

He frowned. “You ever give any thought to being an artist yourself?”

She shrugged. “The mind is willing, the body is not. I’ve just never had the talent.”

“Here’s a secret for you. Talent is in the eye of the beholder. You should see what critics have said about some of my early performances.”

“Oh, I’ve read it.”

He barked out a laugh. “And you wanted to represent me anyway?”

She gave a sharp nod. “Your work moves me. And it’ll move other people. You might have been a referral, but you are wholeheartedly my find. All I’d heard was that you used your paint in your performance art.”

“That still doesn’t explain how you got here. Representing a guy you’re not even sure you like.”

She grinned. “Well, I bounced along in college, and had no idea what I wanted to do with myself. Even when I started graduate school, I still had no idea what I was going to do. Then I got job as a photographer’s assistant. That’s how I met Izzy.”

He drew his eyebrows up. “Yeah, I know her work. I always thought Z Con was a guy.”

“Nope. So anyway, when her last manager left her in a lurch, I sort of took over, and she made me her full time manager. I figured I could spread out a little, so I started taking on some additional clients last year. It’s a better fit than anything I’ve tried before.”

“Well it’s in your blood right? The Stantons have a serious reputation in the art world.”

She shrugged. “But I’m not my family. I struck out on my own. I want to do this on my own merits. Yet this job is in an arena where it helps to have the connections. I used to feel guilty about it, but at the end of the day, if I can use what I have to do the best for my clients, then why shouldn’t I?”

“I personally don’t mind benefitting a little from your nepotism.”

She giggled. “So, are we going to sit in this car and pretend there isn’t a white elephant between us?”

“The one where we pretend we don’t want each other?”

She shrugged. “Yeah.”

“I was serious when I said I wouldn’t touch you again until you asked me to. Do you want me to touch you?”

She nodded her head emphatically as she said, “No.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “You can see how that is confusing, right?”

She chuckled on a sigh. “Yeah. And I’m not trying to be a pain in your ass. I have a bad track record with guys. And I’m the one forever picking the wrong men. Either unavailable, or unapproachable, or unemployable, or just plain way too old.” She shook her head. “When I

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