Page 47 of Love Deep

“I’m just saying, you should do a bit of research. If nothing else, it might give you some insight into what he’s doing so you know how to protect yourself.”

“You’re right,” he says. “Oh, and while we’re on the subject of our professional lives, I think Grace Astor is going to be coming to the Colorado Club.”

My entire body turns to jelly, and if I wasn’t sitting down, I’m sure I’d fall down.

“Why?” I snap.

She can’t be coming to see me. I can’t have some lady who knows about art coming all the way across the country to see my work.

Fisher frowns. “She wants to see your work, but actually, it’s a great business opportunity for her as well. The marketing team is going to introduce her to some members of the Club they think would benefit from her expertise.”

My body slowly regains its strength as he talks.

“So, she’s not coming all this way just for me?”

“I’m getting the feeling you want me to say no when, if the answer was yes, that would be a huge compliment, so I’m completely confused.”

I swallow. “Yeah. It’s… I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but it’s just little ole me in my studio, painting weirdo abstract landscapes, as my dad likes to describe my art. And I love that you like my painting, but I don’t expect some lady from New York who owns galleries and stuff to like my work.”

“Well, news flash: some lady from New York doeslike your work. Don’t think I had anything to do with her interest in you other than sending her the link to your website. She called me. I haven’t pursued her. And anyway, this is Grace Astor. She doesn’t owe me anything. And even if she did, she wouldn’t gamble her reputation on anything. If she likes you, she likes you.”

“I looked her up,” I say. “She’s a pretty big deal in New York. Well, all over the US.”

“You’re right. She is. All the more reason she’s not going to fly out to Colorado and waste her time just as a favor to me.”

“Are you sure you sent her the right website?”

“Juniper…” His tone is a warning, like I’m being ridiculous. But it’s not me who’s being ridiculous. It’s this entire situation.

“I’ve been painting a long time,” I say. “I love it. But I don’t expect other people to. It was a shock when Byron’s designer bought almost every piece I had.”

“And you know Byron didn’t do that as a favor, don’t you?”

I don’t know that. “There’s no question that he did me a favor.”

“Then you don’t know Byron very well. If you asked him to buy a piece of your art, he definitely would. I’m not saying he’s not generous. But he just wouldn’t have been proactive about it. I can almost guarantee you that he gave your details to his designer and then forgot about it. He’s not micromanaging the artwork at the Club.”

I pull in a breath, trying to process what he’s telling me. It makes sense that Byron wouldn’t have wanted to micromanage the art buying.

“But I bet he told his designer to buy something.”

“How many paintings did they buy?”

“Eighteen. She didn’t like five that I have. Said they were a little bit dark. And one was too small.”

“Right. So, he wouldn’t have said,Go buy eighteen paintings.”

“He might have. He might have given her a budget.”

He shakes his head and pulls out his phone. “We’ll settle this.”

He’s going to call Byron. I’m mortified.

“What are you going to say?” I ask.

He doesn’t respond. He sets the phone on speaker. “Hey,” he says when Byron answers. “I wanted to ask you something. You know the paintings you bought from Juniper? Did you give your designer a steer on how much to spend?”

“There was an art budget, if that’s what you mean,” he replies.