“Hi, Trudy. I’m here to see Mr. Warne,” I say, leaning on her desk. “Can you do me a favor and delay Liam joining me?”
“I shouldn’t…” She hesitates, glancing around.
I flash her my devilish grin and edge a little closer to her. “I just need a few moments alone with Mr. Warne.”
She sighs lightly. “Alright, but you owe me.”
“What do you want?” I ask, popping my eyebrow.
“Dinner,” she says with a hopeful smile.
“Sure,” I say with a wink.
“Go ahead, I’ll stall him,” she agrees, touching my hand briefly before I pull back and head to the door.
I knock, and then turn the silver metal handle, the sound of Trudy greeting Liam hitting my ears as I step inside the office and close the door behind me. Mr. Warne's dark head looks up from his paperwork, his gray eyes piercing through his black-framed glasses.
The man is well into his sixties, but he has a presence that demands attention despite his quiet demeanor. I’ve known him for years, though our relationship has always been more professional than personal. He’s a tough negotiator, a man who values legacy over quick money, which is exactly why I need to convince him that I’m the right buyer.
“Good morning, Mr. Warne,” I say, approaching his large wooden desk.
“Good morning. Have a seat,” he says, gesturing to the navy fabric chair across from him.
I sit, smoothing my tie as he studies me. “I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me.”
“What can I do for you?” There’s a flicker of surprise in his eyes.
“I wanted to talk about the Warne Gallery and the possibility of me buying it.”
Warne nods, lacing his fingers. “I’m curious to hear your vision for this place.”
I lean forward slightly. “I want to preserve what you’ve built… Keep the integrity of the gallery intact, continue showcasing artists whose work deserves to be seen, not just those with the biggest bank accounts.”
His expression gives nothing away, but I can tell he’s listening. “And financially? Running a gallery isn’t cheap.”
“I have a solid plan,” I say. “Strategic partnerships, curated events that bring in serious collectors while keeping the focus on the art. I’m not looking to turn this into a social club with a few paintings as decoration.”
Warne exhales, tapping a finger on his desk. “It’s rare to find someone who actually cares about the art. Most people just see dollar signs.”
A subtle wave of relief washes through me. His words validate what I’ve been trying to prove. The fact that he sees my genuine passion gives me an edge I hadn’t counted on. I straighten slightly; maybe this negotiation won’t be as cutthroat as I’d prepared for.
A knock at the door pulls his focus away from me.
I close my eyes, exhaling sharply. Trudy couldn’t keep him distracted a little longer?
Fuck me.
“Hi, Mr. Warne. I hope I haven't missed anything. I’m right on time,” Liam says, taking a seat next to me. Mr. Warne checks his watch. “Looks like you both are, which is great because I need to make this quick. I have to meet my wife.” He puts his glasses down on the desk. “I know you’re both interested in buying this gallery, and I’ve narrowed it down to you two.”
My shoulders tense as reality hits… I’m not the only contender here.
Mr. Warne leans back in his chair, pointing at us. “But there’s one thing neither of you has.”
My eyebrows pinch involuntary as I sit up straighter. I try to figure out what he could be talking about, but I come up empty.
“What can I do, Mr. Warne?” Liam asks.
I remain quiet, waiting for more information. Whatever he needs, I’ll make it happen.
