Page 6 of Passion and Revenge

But what?

Did he realize he spent far too much time with me already? Honestly, I don’t want our conversation to end. It’s the first time in over a year that I’ve been interested in having an extended conversation with a man.

Since my ex, the few dates I’ve been on left me feeling more alone than ever. But even with my very short time with Vincent, I feel alive. Maybe it’s all in my head, though somehow, I doubt it.

His blue eyes shift over my shoulder for a second before coming back to mine. “It’s getting late. I have to go, Sienna.”

The sound of my name rolling off his tongue is a sensual caress against my senses, and my mouth goes a little dry.

“Of course.” I smile, trying to keep my disappointment hidden, but from the way his gaze searches mine, I know I don’t succeed. For a second, it’s on the tip of my tongue to ask if we can see each other again. I’m too much of a coward, though.

Or maybe I’m smart enough to see he has lost interest.

I turn away from him, locking my gaze on the safety of my painting. “Goodnight, Vincent.”

I don’t want to watch him walk away from me and leave the building.

For the rest of the event, I paste on a smile and try to explain the thought process and passion behind my work to the guests that show an interest, but my heart is not in it, and they can probably tell.

My phone begins to ring while I’m talking to a suited man whose eyes keep sliding down to my breasts, and I’m glad for the excuse to escape from the conversation.

I won’t sell that creep my painting even if he were the last person on earth.

“Hey,” I say, smiling into the phone as I make my way to a quiet hallway.

“Let me guess. They’re all fighting over The Revelation,” Kat chirps, “And there’s a brawl. Should I call the cops?”

I roll my eyes fondly. My best friend is my biggest supporter, but she has a habit of overestimating my value. Kat is willing to battle with anyone who doesn’t think my work is better than the Mona Lisa.

“Only the six-foot tall ones with blue eyes and painted-on uniforms,” I say. “Speaking of blue eyes…”

“Oh my God, I know that voice. It’s the I-met-a-super-cute-guy voice. Tell me you met someone!” she squeals, and I wince at the ear-splitting sound.

“I did meet someone, but cool your jets. I’m probably never going to see him again.” The thought is far too depressing, even though I barely even know the man.

“Did you get a name? Tell me everything,” she orders.

“His name is Vincent, no last name. He’s a freaking Adonis, Kat.” I sigh wistfully. “He walked up to The Revelation and said a bunch of really astute things about it. We flirted a little. Things were really going well, and I think he was about to ask me out until snarky Veda interrupted.”

“That bitch!” she hisses.

A peal of laughter slips out of my mouth. “And then he closed up like a clam, made an excuse about it getting late, and disappeared.”

“Weird,” she says, voicing out exactly what I’m thinking. “Maybe he’s married.”

“Can you hear that? That’s the sound of my heart breaking.”

“Or maybe he’s still pining over his ex like a certain someone.” Her voice comes out a little vicious, and I snort.

Kat has never been a fan of my ex-boyfriend, Salvadore. When she heard about the break-up, she dug out a bottle of champagne she had been keeping for the event.

“You know that’s not how I feel about him. Besides, how do you always find a way to throw a jab at Sal?”

She laughs. “I’m creative like that.”

“Miss Marino,” someone calls. I turn to see Mr. Santiago’s assistant staring at me from under her nose. “The boss wants to see you.”

“It’s that bitch Veda, isn’t it?” Kat gripes.

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