Page 104 of Beautiful Exile

How had it come to this? We’d been friends for years. Had grown up in the art world together in many ways. But it had been so much more. We’d cared about each other’s wins and consoled the losses.

Now, I was nothing more than a cash machine to him. God, that sucked.

I lifted my chin and met Denver’s stare. “You already have all my pieces for the auction.”

Denver’s jaw worked back and forth. “I’d still need to know about damage to other pieces.”

“Because you might not have enough to sell?” I challenged.

A muscle fluttered in his cheek. “It’s my job to manage your inventory. To know what’s coming on the market and?—”

“No,” I clipped. “It’s not. It’s your job to manage The Collective and the pieces that come into the gallery. You don’t get to dictate what I’m giving you or when. You don’t even get to know what I’m working on. Because my art is just that.Mine. You can’t control my creative process.”

The room went silent for a moment. Hannah’s gaze ping-ponged between us as she wrung her hands. Fighting and awkwardness were not her things. Farah, on the other hand, loved moments of honesty. She started clapping. “Preach it, sister. No one owns you.”

Denver sent her a glare that should’ve had her taking a step back but didn’t. “I’d watch it, Farah. I’m the one in charge of pushing your stuff, too.”

She just rolled her eyes, unfazed. “Let’s be real, Denny Boy. Youdon’t put any effort into our stuff. Arden has always been your prize show pony.”

Surprise streaked through me. Is that really what she thought? What they all thought? I sought out Hannah, whose gaze dropped to the floor as she tugged her lip between her teeth. She thought the same.

Hell.

I didn’t follow much of what Denver did on the private side. The gallery space made enough to keep the building afloat, and that was all I cared about. But my lack of involvement had hurt the people I cared about. I really would have to fire Denver, which would hurt like hell.

Denver’s mouth twisted into what almost looked like a snarl. “It’s not my fault your work just isn’t quite up to snuff.”

Hannah’s head snapped up, and I saw hurt blazing in her hazel eyes. “Denver,” she whispered.

He just rolled his eyes. “Your watercolors are fine, but nothing that will spark real excitement in the art world.” Denver turned to Farah. “And your mixed media is hit or miss at best. Without consistency, you’ll never carry a show on your own.” He flicked those ridiculous feathers in his hair over one shoulder. “At least Isaiah has something to say. It might be one note, but that’s better than nothing.”

“You’re fired.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.

Denver’s head whipped around in my direction. “You can’t fire me.”

“Can’t I?” I asked as fury coursed through me. A good portion of that rage was pointed directly at Denver, but the rest was squarely on me. Because I hadn’t seen what was going on. Hadn’t seen it because I wasn’t paying attention.

“Youneedme,” Denver hissed.

Linc scoffed. “Does she? Arden has created something more special than you could ever dream of. What have you done other than get in her way?”

Denver’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, and you’re an expert on that now because you’re fucking her?”

Oh, shit.

Linc stalked forward. “I’m giving you that one because you just had your ass handed to you, and with your lack of professionalism, I doubt you’ll be getting another job anytime soon. But if youevertalk about Arden like that in front of me again, I will break your nose before you can blink. Then I’ll take great pleasure in making sure every company you apply for a job with from now on knows exactly how shitty of an employee you are.”

Denver opened his mouth, but Farah cut him off. “Oh, I wouldn’t, Denny Boy. Linc here has the reach to ruin you.”

Denver snapped his mouth closed, rage still swirling in his expression.

“Get your stuff,” I said quietly, a heaviness taking over.

“You’re seriously doing this?” he asked, delusional shock filling his words.

“What other choice did you give me?” I shot back. “The Collective is supposed to be about coming together to create something better than any of us could do alone. But you’ve been undermining that at every turn. And I’ve been too checked out to see it.”

“I wasn’t?—”

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