Page 81 of The Retreat
Talia stepped closer, sliding her hands around Imogen’s waist, her voice dipping low. ‘If I had everything I want, you wouldn’t still be dressed.’
Talia bent to scoop Imogen up in one smooth motion, laughter bubbling between them. Imogen’s arms wrapped around her neck, legs around her waist, breath catching with surprise and delight.
As Talia started to carry her toward the bedroom, her foot caught the edge of the coffee table. The pile of post teetered dangerously and then spilled across the floor.
‘Oops,’ Talia muttered, setting Imogen down with a soft thud. She crouched to help gather the scattered letters.
Imogen knelt beside her, eyes landing on a heavier envelope stamped with a university logo. ‘Wait... what’s that?’
Talia picked it up, turning it over in her hands. ‘Looks official.’
Imogen reached for it, eyes wide. ‘I think it’s from this community programme I applied to an absolute age ago.’
Talia was bursting with curiosity. ‘Open it!’ she demanded, excited.
Imogen nodded, biting her lip as she scanned the page. Then her eyes widened.
‘They want to interview me for the community engagement coordinator role,’ she said, a laugh bubbling out. ‘I thought it was dead in the water.’
Talia pulled Imogen to her feet and hugged her. ‘This is amazing,’ Talia breathed into her ear, incredibly excited for Imogen.
‘It’s only an interview,’ Imogen said quickly. ‘They’ll have loads of people with way more experience than me.’
Talia smiled warmly. ‘You don’t know that.’
Imogen looked doubtful. ‘I’ve never done this kind of work. I won’t get it.’
‘They want to interview you. Do you think they’re doing that for the lols?’ Talia asked her.
Imogen chewed her lip nervously. ‘Even so, I’m awful at interviews. I ramble and blush. Then I start talking myself out of the job.’
Talia laughed softly. ‘I’ll help you prep. I’m embarrassingly good at selling myself.’
‘Really?’ Imogen’s voice was small but hopeful.
‘Absolutely. You’re not giving up before you start. Not while I’m around.’
Imogen looked down at the letter, the doubt softening in her eyes. ‘It’s just an interview,’ she said again, but this time it sounded a little more like hope. ‘And it’s not curating. And the pay isshocking.’
‘But it’s curating adjacent, right? So when you get this, and youwill, it will be the start of your rise,’ Talia told her.
Imogen laughed, cheeks flushed. ‘You make it sound easy.’
‘Easy?’ Talia grinned. ‘With me coaching you, it’ll be a breeze. Besides, who wouldn’t want to hire someone so gorgeous?’
Imogen rolled her eyes, smiling wider. ‘I don’t think that’s on the requirement list.’
Talia smiled, feeling passion rise once again. Her fingers grazed Imogen’s arm, tracing slow, deliberate circles. ‘Maybe not.’ She leaned in, breath warm against Imogen’s ear. ‘But if they want someone who’s hands-on and knows how to get things done, you’re their girl.’ She smirked, lips brushing Imogen’s ear.
Before Imogen could protest, Talia’s lips claimed hers, playful and demanding all at once. The letter slipped forgotten on the floor. There was now only one thing on both of their minds and it sure as hell wasn’t interviewing technique.
Fifty-Six
Three Years Later
The gallery’s floors gleamed, and the walls still smelled faintly of fresh paint. Evening light spilled through the tall sash windows, casting everything in gold.
Laughter and the soft clink of glasses rose above the low hum of strings from a discreet speaker behind the front desk. On the front window was the freshly stencilled name of the place:Imogen Lake Contemporary.She was still startled every time she saw it.
