Page 37 of Embrace My Heart

Vectra, her cheek propped against her fist, began to shake her head dazedly. “Wow...you’re sure to leave this showing a millionaire with a sales pitch like that. I can’t imagine a buyer not wanting to have one of these pieces on a wall in their favorite room.”

Yancey’s expression, while serene, glinted with an element that made her seem far older. “I came from a place that was all too real for me. It’s taken me a long time to get here.”

Vectra’s brow furrowed just slightly. She felt somewhat eclipsed by the solemn manner that wafted about the young artist. “You sound like you’ve got quite a story to tell,” she noted.

Yancey shrugged. “It was one I was glad to see end.” She closed her eyes briefly. “I was in an abusive relationship—high school sweethearts, hmph. Started our junior year in high school, lasted through college. Our mothers were friends. I knew him since playpens and diapers.”

“Yancey, I—” Vectra felt her stomach muscles clenching. “I’m sorry.”

Yancey’s smile was surprisingly serene. “When I was finally able to draw myself out of the wicked spell I was under and see that it was my life I was jeopardizing, I was able to stop being ruled by everybody else’s image of us. We were the adorable childhood sweethearts destined to be adult soul mates. Anyway...that’s when the rest of my life began.”

Yancey sighed approvingly and turned back to the canvas she and Vectra stood closest to. She gave a wave. “That’s where all this comes from.”

“Would you do it again, Yancey?” Vectra didn’t mean to voice the question aloud. She wanted—needed—to hear the other woman’s answer. “Would you get serious?” she asked. “Really serious about another man? Could you? After something like that?”

Yancey folded her arms over her chest, hiding a portion of the Canadian flag emblazoned across the T-shirt she sported with faded jeans. She rocked to and fro, appearing to contemplate her answer.

“I’ve believed for a long time now that living, wanting to live, is the best therapy.” Light returned, full-blown, into her bright gaze. “I hope there will be another chance to do it again, because I plan to give it my all and do it better than it’s ever been done before.”

She shared a saucy wink. “So long as he’s worth it, and I have a feeling that I’ll know if he is. Maybe...through the chaos of my past, he’ll be waiting in the mellow depths of a possible future.” Yancey waved toward the canvas again.

Vectra parroted the move. “You’ve just made your first sale. Let’s go up to my office so I can cut you a check.”

* * *

“Quittin’ time?” Will called out to Minka as he approached her desk.

Minka grinned. “Just about. If you’re looking for Qasim, he’s still in his office.”

“We already talked earlier today.” Will presented a folder. “I only came by the drop off these copies for the foundation files.”

“Thanks,” Minka drawled, satisfied as she accepted the folder secured by a large binder clip.

Will was looking toward the corridor beyond the sun-drenched lobby that led to the president’s office. “So...Sim and Vectra Bauer, huh? I didn’t know ’til today how caught up he was over her. Did you see that coming?”

“Saw it coming a long time ago.”

Will whistled, impressed. “On that note,” he tipped an imaginary cap, “have a good night, Ms. Gerald.”

Minka reciprocated in kind, and once Will had gone, she debated on whether to crack into the folder before heading home for the day.

“Ahh...what the hell...” she decided to get the lingering work out of the way in order to start her morning with a clear desk. Besides, the folder may not have been as formidable as it looked.

To Minka’s delight, the file mostly consisted of invoices. She made note of every sort of paper document that went into the president’s library. Invoices were the easiest to note for her electronic records. Other items required not only a document name, but also a brief overview of its contents.

Minka kicked off her pumps and settled in behind her computer. She’d cleared a quarter of the invoices when she came to a stack from Dazzles. She smiled, recalling the dinner meeting the night before. It had been work that felt like a party, and she’d had a great time.

The reminiscent smile lost some of its illumination, though, when she shuffled the invoices. Her brows drew close, faintly marring the delicate skin between them. Maybe she did need to head home because what she was looking at made no sense.

She was stunned, but not relatively so by the spike in the hotel price quotes. The economy had sent so much off kilter. But this? She stood, moving to another section of her gargantuan desk.

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