Pete let out an audible sigh, his jaw hardening. “Kat, what are you playing at?”
The question caught her off guard. She wasn’t playing at anything. She didn’twantto play at anything. “I don’t know what you mean.” But she saw the way his lecherous gaze looked her up and down. Damn it.
“You. All of this. You’re dressed to turn someone on tonight.” His arm dropped to her waist, and his voice lowered to a husky timbre. “And it worked.”
What happened to the concept of a business relationship? And why was a single woman always a target? If Nick had been with her, Pete would not be pulling this nonsense. Kat willed her voice not to waver.
“Pete, I’m sorry. I really don’t know what to say. I dressed for a party tonight, that’s all. I do need to get going. I have a class to teach tomorrow morning. You know, kindling creative energy in the next generation.” She gave a light laugh. “I’ll see you later.” She slipped out of his grasp and didn’t look back.
Though it was freezing outside, Kat burned inside. As soon as she and Mia were seated on the train, she turned to her friend. “You might want to skip talking to Pete about showing your jewelry. He’s turning out to be a slimeball.” Had she known, she never would’ve chosen to pursue his gallery. Why wasn’t it common knowledge among the art community? After her show, she’d be spreading the word. Or did everyone stay quiet because of Pete’s position? Did he have enough power and clout to ruin her if it ever got back to him?
Mia’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”
“He keeps latching onto me and calling me sweetheart and saying creepy, suggestive things.”
“Like what?”
She rolled her eyes. “He thought I was dressed up tonight to turn him on.”
“Yuck. You think it’s going to be a problem?”
“I hope not. I mean, he’s already agreed to the show and picked the pieces.” She’d signed a contract, but it was all aboutherresponsibilities. One line stood out in her brain—the gallery reserved the right to cancel at its discretion. She sucked in a deep breath. “I’ll just try to keep my distance. Most of the time, I work with Matt who helps run the gallery. He’s great.”
By the time she stepped inside her apartment, Kat’s anger had worn her out. She heated a cup of chai decaf, kicked off her boots, and flopped down on the sofa. Winslow joined her.
“Hi, baby,” Kat murmured absently, stroking the cat’s head. “Why can’t everyone be as well behaved as you, hmm?” She gently set Winslow aside and retrieved her phone. Nick would be expecting a report.
“Hey, angel,” Nick picked up.
His soft, deep voice made her smile inside. “What are you up to?”
“Just waiting to hear from you. How’d it go?”
Kat tried to infuse some excitement into her voice. “It was great. A nice turnout.” No reason to go into the awkward encounter with Pete. She’d already vented enough over yesterday’s revelation from Cassie.
“Did the owner introduce you?”
“Yes, and several people seemed interested. Maybe they’ll come back.”
“How’d the postcards turn out?”
Kat gasped. Shouldn’t they have been ready for tonight? “Wow. I can’t believe I forgot about those. I guess he didn’t get them done in time. Maybe there was a glitch with the printer.” She reached for her laptop. “Let me see if it’s been added to the website.” She opened the Loft Images page and scrolled through the various options. “Huh. Nothing yet.” Well, she wouldn’t be pestering him about that. The fewer times she had to deal with Pete, the better.
“There’s still plenty of time,” Nick said. “Most people wouldn’t plan more than a week or two out. Thought I might get a pic tonight. Did you forget that, too?”
“Oh, sorry. Mia took a few, but I haven’t had a chance to look at them.” Jeez, she sounded like an airhead.
“No worries,” Nick told her. “Send them later. Guess what I did today?”
“Ummm…”
He didn’t wait for her to guess. “Put the first coat of stain on your mom’s mantel.”
“Oh, yeah? Got approval from the queen, huh?”
“I did. I ended up emailing her some high-res pics instead of hauling the piece to the house. Told her I was concerned about potential damage. She seemed okay with it.”
“Good. Glad she didn’t make you bubble-wrap it and take it anyway. Or suggest changes.”
