Page 35 of Ice To Meet You

She tipped her head to one side and looked up at me through her long, dark lashes. “Yes. It’s crazy really. Luc, who I grew up with …”

“Luc Du Comtois?”

“Yes.”

“You grew up with him?”

Esmé nodded. How did I not know that?

“His mother was a talented painter, and he inherited her skill. Perhaps it was infectious. I’ve always found art so inspiring and beautiful.”

I took a sip of my wine, toying with my words. “I always heard Luc Du Comtois was a playboy. A bored billionaire.”

Esmé smiled. “Then you don’t know Luc. He’s wonderful. He opened my eyes to art. We travelled as teenagers, finding inspiration. Thanks to him, I’m at my happiest exploring tiny galleries or discovering new artists.”

Her smile lit up her already beautiful face, and somethingtugged in my chest. “So, you really don’t mind being alone? With the business, I mean.”

She took another sip of wine and ran her tongue over her lower lip. I could barely tear my eyes away.

“No. As a woman in this field, I’m judged on a steeper curve than my male counterparts. I’ve spent years hitting the glass ceiling, but now that Luc has sold his work in his own name and through me exclusively, I’ve gained a new recognition. A new respect.”

She reached out and ran a palm over Claudette’s soft, white fur. “That’s why this next exhibition has to go well. Two years ago, your grandfather would never have considered investing in me.”

“I can’t imagine that,” I said, brushing my fingertips over the cool wood of the desk.

Esmé smiled. “Well, I’m just grateful he’s interested now.”

And as much as I knew I shouldn’t be, I was interested in Esmé too, but in an entirely different way.

Yes, she was talented and inspirational, but there was something else about her that made my pulse quicken. A calmness and control. Most of the women I met were risk takers. And while casual and crazy had always been enough, there was something irresistible about the way Esmé did serious

When we first met on the chairlift, she’d been scared. I felt necessary. Important. And she’d clung to me as the chair rocked in the wind as if I could help her. As if what I said or did mattered. I hadn’t felt those emotions in years.

“My grandfather is a good man. Though he’s traditional, he values talent.”

I sighed, then tipped my glass back, finishing my wine. When I put it down on the desk, a shiver ran through me. “I should go.”

A tiny line appeared between Esmé’s brows. “Are you sureyou don’t want me to evict Claudette? I can find somewhere else for her to sleep.”

I looked at the little white ball of fluff that had made my jacket home. “I think I’ll leave her. And I’ll leavethiscreative genius to get some sleep, too.” I gestured towards Esmé, looking out of the window at the sparkle of frost on the square. “Do you have anything warm I can borrow instead of my jacket? Maybe a spare roll of bubble-wrap?”

She chuckled. “I used up all my bubble wrap.” As she spoke, her brow quirked, and she glanced towards the back of the gallery. “Hang on. I might have something. It’s a bit old, but if you’re not too fussy …” her words drifted off to silence.

Given the choice of wearing something old and freezing to death, I’d definitely opt for shabby. “Great.”

With a smirk, Esmé disappeared to the back of the gallery. After about thirty seconds, she reappeared with something in her arms.“I don’t think you’ll like it.” Esmé unbundled whatever she held with a grimace.

I tightened my eyes to see in the dark. “What the hell is that? Is it alive? Should someone feed it?”

She giggled—the most wonderful sound I’d ever heard—and placed it in my arms.

I turned towards the lamplight and unfurled a long, fluffy cardigan. It was bright pink, just like the ski jacket she wore when we first met. “When did we go back to the nineties?” I asked, shaking my head.

“I confess, it’s a littleavant-garde. Luc’s grandmother gave it to me for Christmas last year. I left it here in case the heating stopped working.”

I held the cardigan out in front of me. “I thought you said you didn’t like pink.”

“Not true. I said I didn’t like heights. Pink has its place in the world. Only I’m not sure that place is on your back.”

---