Page 40 of The Charmer

If she could rustle up a cool million or so, that is.

“If there is anything I can do to help…” Sofia trailed off, quirking a stencilled eyebrow while draping a plump arm across her shoulders.

“I’ll be fine,” Ariel said, submitting to a quick hug before shrugging out of Sofia’s embrace, wondering if the lie sounded as hollow to Sofia as it did to her.

She wouldn’t be fine, considering the council had confirmed her greatest fear this morning: they were selling the land the gallery stood on. Like most councils around Melbourne, they were strapped for cash and in desperate need of more schools and health care facilities, so selling off the last piece of prime real estate in Brunswick Street was a no-brainer.

Of course, they’d given her an option. Come up with the cash herself or lose the gallery.

Some option. For a person struggling to meet the monthly rent, they may as well have handed her an eviction notice.

“Hey, you guys. Do you think everything looks okay?” Chelsea bounded up to them, red hair gelled into fearsome spikes, a funky beige leather ensemble draping her lithe body.

Ariel pasted a smile on her face and shot Sofia a pointed look to change the subject. “Relax, Chelsea. Your paintings look great and this showing is going to be a hit.”

Chelsea’s confident grin waned. “What if no one turns up?”

“Do not worry, bambina. I have told the whole of Melbourne. Everyone will come.” Sofia flung her arms wide and Chelsea straightened, her confidence restored.

Grateful for Sofia’s reassurance, Ariel wished her problems could be solved as easily. “Chelsea, why don’t you make sure the inventory list and red sale dots are in order while Sofia checks on the wine?”

While she scooted out the back to brace herself for Cooper’s appearance. Surely he wouldn’t attend? He’d probably been trying to intimidate her yet again by saying he’d come to Chelsea’s showing, wanting to up the pressure, turn the screws a little tighter.

Well, she had news for him. If he did show his sorry face here tonight, she’d be the only one doing any screwing over. She’d thought long and hard about her options all afternoon while preparing the gallery and as much as Cooper’s offer seemed her only chance at getting a fresh start elsewhere, she couldn’t do it. Taking his money would be selling out on her dream, selling out on her promise to Barb, and she wouldn’t let that happen. She couldn’t.

She would fight this with every weapon in her limited arsenal. She planned on approaching the National Trust, the Arts Council, the Victorian Grants Committee. Whatever it took, she would do it.

People depended on her, people like Chelsea who would never have a chance at discovery if it wasn’t for the gallery, Barb’s legacy, and as Ariel watched the young woman flit around the gallery one last time to ensure everything was in order, she knew there was no other choice.

She could never sell out and if Cooper or the local council wanted this piece of land, they would have to drag her screaming from it after she’d exhausted every avenue.

“Ariel, there’s a crowd outside.” Chelsea’s hushed tone alerted Ariel to just how nervous the young woman was, because Chelsea never spoke in anything below a dull roar. “Shall I open the door?”

“Go ahead. It’s your moment to shine.” Ariel gave Chelsea’s arm a reassuring squeeze, fervently hoping this wouldn’t be the girl’s first and last showing at Colour by Dreams.

Chapter Twenty-Six

He came.

Ariel knew the exact moment Cooper set foot in the gallery because the hair on the nape of her neck snapped to attention, as did most of the women in the room.

To give her credit, she averted her gaze after the first soul-wrenching moment when their eyes met and what could only be described as sizzling heat arced between them across the room.

But that one, loaded moment was all it took for her to imprint his powerful image on her brain: black jeans, black T-shirt, black leather jacket, the bad-boy wardrobe looking way too good on the uptight corporate shark.

Throw in the cocky grin, the sardonic glint in his too-blue eyes, and a natural confidence that turned heads, and she knew she’d have trouble getting through the rest of the evening.

He could’ve played fair and avoided her.

Since when did a guy like him, used to getting whatever he wanted in life, play fair?

“You can run but you can’t hide,” Cooper said, sneaking up on her in the studio kitchenette while she hunted for extra plastic cups under the sink.

Ariel’s head snapped up and she avoided clunking her head on the rusty metal sink by an inch.

“Nice view, by the way.”

With heat flushing her cheeks, she wriggled backwards from her awkward position and hoped her butt didn’t look big in the crushed velvet hot pants, before mentally slapping herself for caring.

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