“Nothing, just, uh, call me when you’re done there.” Her voice broke, and she rushed on. “Sorry, I forgot you–”
“Kat, it’s fine. No customers at the moment.” He stepped into his office. “Are you crying?” His tone conveyed concern, and it was her undoing.
“Oh, God, Nick. I lost the show.”
“What? You don’t mean the gallery?”
“Yeah.” Her voice quivered, and she pressed her lips together to keep from blubbering.
“What happened?”
She sucked in a deep breath. “Got bumped.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that scumbag pulled it out from under me.”
In the long silence, Nick shook his head, and his brows pulled together. “Kat, I don’t get it. Why would he do that? Don’t you have a contract?”
“Sure, but there’s a clause that says he can cancel the show at his discretion up until ten days prior. I wouldn’t press him about it, anyway. These owners hold all the cards, Nick. If I said one negative thing or took him to court, word would get out and no other gallery would ever want to work with me.”
Confusion etched his face. “I guess I’m hung up on why he would cancel. Did he give you a reason?”
Kat let out a long sigh. “He had his assistant call. He didn’t give a reason, but I know what it is.”
“And?”
Kat shook her head. She so did not want to have this conversation. But she had no choice. It was the only explanation that made any sense. With a shudder, she launched into the story of Pete’s behavior. “I’m sure that’s the real reason,” she finished, her voice almost a whisper.
Nick’s face darkened, and he swore under his breath. “Kat, he can’t do that. It’s illegal. You could sue him.”
She looked at the ceiling. “I told you. I can’t. And he knows that.”
He blew out an audible breath. “Wish I was there.”
“Me, too. But I’d just cry and wipe snot all over your shoulder.”
His deep chuckle sent a warm rush to her cheeks, and she squeezed her eyes closed. If only she could fall into his arms.
“So now what?” he asked after a moment of silence.
“I don’t know. I just found out this afternoon, so I’m still in mourning. Haven’t thought of plan B. But they want me to pick up my paintings right away. I guess I’ll have to stack them at the studio for now. There’s no room here, and I don’t have any place else, unless I rent some storage space.”
“No. No way.” His voice was firm. “They can’t go into storage. We’ve got to get you another gallery.”
Kat got up and wandered into the kitchen. She heated some leftover chai tea and splashed in a little Baileys Irish Cream. At least with Nick on the phone it wouldn’t seem like she was drinking alone.
“There’s no way I’ll find another gallery this year. All the good places book artists a full year in advance.”
“What about a fair? I bet it’s not too late to enter a juried event for this summer.”
Her heart sank. “A fair? Oh, Nick. That’s not the same at all.” Surely, he realized that.
“I know. It’s not what you wanted, but if you won a prize, it might be a selling point to get gallery space next year.”
Not only was the fair circuit unappealing to Kat, going on the road was a lot of work, and an investment. She didn’t have a tent or stand or table or the hardware to hang everything, or a sign or banner. “It’d take hundreds of dollars to get set up, plus rent a van to haul everything around. And if I went out of the city, I’d have to take time off from work. It’d be a double hit financially. And it would eat up all my vacation time.”
“Okay, here’s another idea. Send me a few pieces, and I’ll put them in the shop. I don’t have the big New York name, but I’ve got customers, and we’re coming up on tourist season.”
