Pete shook his head, and the server picked up their dishes. “I’ll be right back with the check.”
Ugh, the part Kat wasn’t sure about. Should she offer to pick up the tab? What was the correct protocol? She should’ve asked around, but the dinner had been a late—
“Nightcap?”
What? Kat blinked, not sure she’d heard correctly. “I, um, what–?”
“How’s a nightcap at my place sound?” he asked again.
In her dumb silence, Pete’s brows lifted, and ice-blue eyes challenged her. All of a sudden, the friendly smile struck her as a smirk. And the question sounded like a come-on.
Oh, no. When he invited her to dinner, he’d said he liked to get to know the artists he represented. That made sense. But now Kat’s stomach churned, and heat rose in her cheeks. How exactly did he intend to “get to know” her? Was that sexual undertone for real? Is that what he expected? Is that how she was supposed to “earn” the show? Kat gripped the stem of her glass, nerves on high alert.
She had to play this carefully. She wanted that show. In her mind, she’d already placed her paintings hanging beneath the spotlights at Loft Images. Pete was well-known in art circles. A big name, often quoted in the local industry. He had connections. Kat stopped in often, and had become friends with Matt, one of Pete’s assistants, but she didn’t know Pete well. And certainly didn’t want to know him that way. The man was aging nicely, she acknowledged silently, but he had to be pushing fifty.
Kat took a sip of the sparkling wine to buy some time while she weighed her options. She could make up an excuse why she couldn’t go to his place, or she could lie and say she was involved with someone. Might put him off for now. Her other choice was to tell him in no uncertain terms that she didn’t—and wouldn’t—operate that way. And risk the show.
She moistened her lips and attempted a genuine smile. “I appreciate you taking the time to have dinner tonight, Pete, and I’ll do everything I can to help make the show a success. Your confidence and support mean a lot to me, and I hope we can have a strong working relationship. I don’t want to do anything to mess that up. So…so, I think it’s best if I head on home now.”
His lips thinned slightly, but he gave no other sign of being put off or angry. With a shrug, he sat up straight and reached for the bill. “Not a problem.”
Kat quickly pulled her wallet from the small wrist-clutch she carried tonight. “Oh, please, let me.”
Pete shook his head. “On me. I invited you, remember?”
Kat smiled but couldn’t help feeling more indebted to him than she liked, but of course, this would be considered a business expense. “Thank you.”
When the waiter returned with Pete’s credit card, he stood, and Kat quickly set down her glass and scrambled up.
“So come by the studio, and we’ll get the ball rolling. Also, opening event for press and special guests is the first Saturday night.”
Her heart bounced. “Sounds good,” she said, trying to sound professional even though excitement laced her words.
Outside, they went their separate ways, and Kat hailed a cab. Sinking into the back seat, she blew out her breath and replayed the entire dinner in her mind. The nightcap thing was a little weird, but hopefully that was the end of that. She couldn’t contain the slow grin that spread from her lips to her toes. She was on her way.
Inside her apartment, Kat flopped onto the sofa and let out a long breath, her adrenaline high wearing off. Winslow nuzzled against her. She took hold of his face and scratched under his chin. “Whew. What a day,” she told him. “I suppose you lounged around all day. Quite the life you’ve got there, buddy.” He stretched and nuzzled harder with a plaintive meow.
“Okay, okay.” She got up and opened a small tin of food. The spoiled feline had an auto feeder that delivered dry food throughout the day. This was his treat.
She heated a cup of tea for herself then dug her cell phone from her purse. She had calls to make. Before she got to Nana’s number, Kat found a missed call. From her old boss at the Denver Art Museum? That was unusual. She hadn’t heard from him in years.
Kat tapped on the screen to listen to the message.
—Hey Kat, it’s Jim at DAM. Give me a call when you get a chance. I want to talk to you about an opportunity. Remember that painting you did of the aspens in fall? We’d like to use it for our fall banners on the light posts around the museum this year. What do you think about that? Give me a call.—
Hmm. Kat remembered the painting. Bright and colorful with a graphic design look. Would probably make a great banner. But was that how she wanted her work displayed? She sank onto the sofa again and drummed her fingers, considering the pros and cons. Should she run it past Pete first? Would theexposurebe good overall—help her name recognition in those mysterious cyber algorithms? Something else to put on her résumé?
Kat set down her mug and opened her laptop for a search of the museum in Denver where she’d spent a couple of summers working as an intern. She zoomed in on photos of the outside area where she could see the current banner. Ah, yes, snow-topped mountains. She checked the time. Still early enough to call. No way could she spend time on this at work tomorrow. She sent a quick text.
—Hey, Jim. Can you talk now?—
Her phone rang a moment later.
“Kat, how the heck are you? How’s the city treating you?”
“Hi, Jim. Doing great. How ’bout you?”
“The usual. So, you got my message. What do you think?”
