Page 86 of Wants and Needs
20CARTER
My late shiftat Sculpt is a lot more stimulating than the hours of admin I had to put in at St. Anthony, and the main reason is the sudden interest in Sebas’s blob.
Sebas decided not to put it for sale after all, just show it for now and see if there would be any interest.
If the two socialite women’s insistence that I tell Sebas they want custom pieces is anything to go by, I say there’s plenty of it.
Sebas isn’t here today, though, so I’ve been holding down the fort on my own.
It’s been a good way to keep my mind off of my worries about Liam. Whenever there’s been a period of quiet, I’ve had to battle with myself not to text him. I don’t want him to think I’m... nagging him, or pushing him to open up when he clearly doesn’t want to.
But I want him to want to.
Does that make me an insensitive arsehole?
I hope it doesn’t, because if I’m honest, I can’t stop myself from wanting to be accepted as a comfort.
I don’t want to make his life harder than it already is.
So when I hear the glass door open and steps come in while I’m taking down the women’s contact information, in case Sebas does want to make custom pieces for them, I’m not sure how to react to the sudden instinctive feeling that it’s Liam.
Part of me wants to give him all my attention immediately, tell the ladies to come another day and leave it at that, but I don’t know if that’s the right thing to do here, so instead I keep listening to the customers tell me their emails and full names.
They leave with big smiles on their faces, and I make sure that the note with their information has a reminder for Monday mid-morning so I don’t forget to talk to Sebas about it. I get the weekend off this week, and he’ll be here if he feels like opening—which he sometimes doesn’t, but it’s literally his business, so I’m not gonna tell him how to run it.
Thankfully, I’m also off from St. Anthony’s, so it’ll be a rare completely free weekend for me.
I feel Liam walking around the columns, looking around, and maybe he’s purposely trying to be quiet, but I know this gallery like the back of my hand. I know when someone else is here. I decide it’s better to let him know sooner rather than later.
“You know there’s a fine line between stalking and romance, darling.” I speak in an even tone on purpose, and keep looking at the screen even though I’m not doing anything on it anymore.
“I’m here with some . . . news.”
The pause doesn’t bode well, I think, or the way he walks over, so slow and hesitant.
“What is it?” I ask, already worried as I walk around the desk that hides the monitor and toward him.
“I think it’s better if I show you,” he murmurs when I’m right by him.
I want to reach over and hug him, kiss him, assure myself that everything that happened yesterday wasn’t a fluke, but instead he shoves his phone my way, and as soon as I grab it, he walks away.
I guess I should see what this is all about, but I’m really not happy with this greeting.
I read the headline and I’m instantly beyond annoyed. This is bollocks. Why do people even care?
Then a thought strikes me.
“Do you think the grave robber was the source?” I ask loudly, since Liam is on the other side of the gallery.
“I hadn’t thought of that, if I’m honest.”
“He was here on Tuesday,” I say without thinking, and Liam whirls around, his frown more pronounced than ever.
“On Tuesday? Why didn’t you tell me?” he demands and begins to stalk toward me.
Taken aback by his sudden intensity, I frown right back.
“I had more important things to think about,” I start, trying to stay calm. “Like figuring out my sexuality and making sure I didn’t lose you. Besides, Sebas, CJ, and I handled him.”
