Page 16 of Damaged

“I did think it was a little warm.”

I throw my sweater on and stand.

James starts to lift the sculpture up. When it’s upright, he strips off the sheet. It’s an ugly bust of a bearded man with a nose that’s been broken off. I didn’t break off the nose, however. It’s not actually a classic. I know the piece. I inventoried it.

“You saved a real beauty,” he says sarcastically.

“How about thanks for being so committed to the art.”

“Thanks,” James says. “For being so committed to the art.”

I can’t stand this man. I hate that he’s so hot. That his sly grin makes it feel like I swallowed a sparkler.

Bad instincts. James Callaway isnotwhat a woman should look for in a partner.

“I should get back to work,” I say and turn to the door.

“Okay, Sophia. But you might…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. I turn around, ready to tell him to spit it out, but to my horror, he picks my bra up off where it fell on the floor and holds it out like it might bite.

I walk forward and snatch it. A little too aggressively. “Thank you,” I say with some earnestness and leave him in the delivery garage. I walk down the hall, stuffing my bra in my pants until I can get it on.

My thoughts are already far from whatever that phone call was about. The good news is I saw the old owner, Daniel McMurphy, about twice a year.

I can only hope the same will go for James.

James

I don’t know a thing about running an art gallery. Or an auction house or whatever it is this place does.

I assume it’s like any old business, but I’m not going to be as involved as McMurphy was. I’m already busy enough running a billion-dollar enterprise.

Alex Blackwell is in town from Washington State for business. He wants to celebrate my new purchase, and I agreed. A night out doesn’t sound bad and I’m tired of my same old routine, so we’re going to Brooklyn.

I meet him for drinks at a quiet rathskeller. It’s got big stone arches and vaulted ceilings. Three dozen high-end scotch whiskies sit glittering on the top shelf. I intend to sample half of them before we leave.

Alex sits across from me. His hair is ruffled like he’s had a long day, but there’s been a light in his eyes ever since he started to date his new girlfriend. He’s not the perpetually cool and down-to-business bastard I knew him to be.

Hell, I’m colder than Alex Blackwell these days.

“I hate to be a broken record, but before we’re too wasted to remember, can we talk about our phone call?”

“What about it?” I ask.

“Hailee heard you bought the gallery. Sophia reached out to her about it.”

“Okay.” I say this like a question, failing to understand the relevance.

“She’s extra protective of Sophia. I think she feels bad for moving to Washington for a year.”

“And she thinks now that there’s a pretty girl at a business I own that I’m going to sleep with her?”

“Essentially, yes. The whole being neighbors thing doesn’t help her paranoia, either.”

“I’ve never even seen her at my building. That’s the pleasure of having the penthouse. You know, Alex, I have no plans to sleep with this girl. But I am curious why your girlfriend thinks it’s the end of the world if I do.”

“James…” Alex looks off and smiles. “You’re kind of known as a…”

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