“I see,” her dad said, even though he couldn’t possibly.
“Hey, speaking of work…” Nick smiled at Kat. “This exhibit is outstanding. Congratulations. Really enjoying it.”
Mia crossed her arms and almost rolled her eyes. And Nick knew it was time to move along.
“Thanks.” Kat glanced at the others, and her fingers toyed with the strap of her purse.
“Well, I should let you give the tour. Nice to see you all.” He squared his shoulders and forced himself to walk at a normal pace toward the exit. With supreme effort, he resisted the urge to look back and see if Kat was watching him.
As he neared the stairwell, he let out a long breath and wondered whether he was out of the game or just benched.
ChapterTwenty-Three
Nick looked into the camera and held his smile a beat.
“That’s a wrap,” Sherra hollered.
Cheers and applause erupted, and Nick gave a nod and began gathering tools. His time behind the camera was almost over, which meant his time in New York City would also come to an end. Unless he found another reason to stay.
“Okay, we’ll take a look at all the raw footage and see if we need any additional shots,” Sherra told Nick. “If not, we’re ready to get this in the can and get it scheduled.”
“Great. My flight’s booked for Saturday.” That gave him two days of being on call.
“Let’s clean up and head over to the studio,” Sherra said.
Nick didn’t expect they’d need much more. Throughout the process, she and the team had complimented him and praised how smoothly the spots were coming together. He’d heard “You’re a natural” more than once. Nick had been allowed several glimpses of the tapes along the way. Though he was relieved to be finished, he was proud of his performance. Not many awkward pauses. No sweat stains on his shirt or other glaring signs of nervousness.
Overall, it had been a fun experience. His only regret was that Kat hadn’t made it to Connecticut. No rendezvous at a beachside hotel. No hanging out with the team. No visits to the set. Those thoughts consumed him the entire ride back into the city. If he was going to contact her before going home, it was now or never. He wouldn’t do it here in the van with all these people, though. He’d wait until he had a quiet minute at his hotel.
But he took the opportunity to check his messages and emails. One of them screamed out to him. He nearly laughed out loud as he scanned the response from Pete Collison, Loft Images owner.
Sure, Nick. Be happy to pull those pieces together for you. O’Brien has sold the large Trees of Autumn, but he has one similar he’s willing to ship if you’re interested. Photos attached. I have another artist who creates some stylized mountain meadow works that include some fabric and metal that you might like. They’re bold. Pics attached. Let me know what you think and what time would be good for you to stop by on Friday. I have a stack of options for you to look at in the gallery. I’ll need twenty-five percent down to hold any pieces.
Good. The jerk was already thinking money and counting his chickens. He’d spent valuable time on Nick’s request—and had talked to some artists. Wasn’t out any money but might experience some embarrassment when he had to tell the artists no deal. Nick looked forward to their meeting. He sent a brief reply then tucked away the phone and joined the conversation around him.
At headquarters, the day wore on. Every time he thought they were done, someone asked a question that led to more discussion. And then someone suggested celebratory pizza and beer for dinner. Nick considered opting out, but they were a good group, and it was better than eating alone.
At eight o’clock, he finally returned to his room and sank onto the small sofa, cell phone in hand. He thought about sending Kat a short clip from the video footage Sherra had given him. Could be an ice breaker. Or she might take it as rubbing his success in her face. Starting with an apology was probably the smart choice
—Hey, Kat. Can we talk? Finished filming today. I’m in the city for a couple more days. I’d like to see you. I want to apologize for that morning at your place. Meet me at a coffee shop?—
He plugged in the phone to charge, turned the volume way up so he wouldn’t miss a notification, and switched on the television just for something to do.
Two hours later, the phone was still silent. And he didn’t know whether to be frustrated or worried. Was she simply ignoring him? That didn’t seem like her. Why not tell him in no uncertain terms to go away? He’d given her time to calm down, to think.
Looked as if he had two options—wait her out or let go and get on with his life.
* * *
Kat hit enter on her laptop to place the order, lifted her glass of sparkling water, and flopped back on her sofa. The past two weeks had been exhausting both mentally and physically, but she’d forced herself to keep going. Giving up was not an option.
She’d done as Nick suggested and created new postcards for a snail mail blitz. They should arrive in five to seven business days. In the meantime, she needed to continue researching galleries across the country to send to. That meant an entire spreadsheet with contact information, making sure she knew the owner’s name and proper spelling and looking at their websites to determine if they’d be a good fit. Gathering all the details took a lot of time.
The new design couldn’t give all the information the flyer provided, but it might be striking enough to attract some attention. On Saturday, she and a couple of guys from the museum would photograph her framed pieces, and then she could upload them to her website. Everything was coming together. She just needed to stay focused.
And she had—from the moment her dad and Nana left. She hadn’t watched TV, gone out or wasted time scrolling on social media. She’d only met Mia for dinner after work a couple of times—and that was only after some arm twisting. Thinking of Mia, Kat stood and went into the bedroom for her phone where she’d tucked it away to keep from getting distracted. She owed her an answer about going out Friday night.
“Okay, okay,” Kat said to the empty room. “Dinner and a drink.” The screen on her phone came to life, and Kat froze. A missed text from Nick. She pressed the phone to her chest and sagged against the door jamb. “Speaking of distractions.” She blew out a long breath and tapped the phone against her palm.
