Page 42 of From West, With Regret

His eyebrows arch across his forehead before they furrow in thought. “In what sense, sir?”

“Do you follow any big-name artists? Modern ones, not the classics like Van Gogh or Picasso.”

“Hmm. I can’t say I do. But you know who might be able to help?”

“Who?”

“Your friend, Holt Capuleti. A man like that who runs one of the top editorial magazines in the country knows practically everything about everyone.”

“You’re right.” I clear my throat and shoot Holt a quick text, asking if he has a minute to talk. He must find it strangeyet intriguing, considering I’m not usually the one to reach out first, because he’s quick to call me.

I’m swallowing a sip of my coffee when I answer.

“Hey, man,” he says.

“You were quick to call.” I suddenly feel weird for reaching out to him at such an odd time. “We can talk later if it’s better for you.”

“No. I’m in the middle of my workout, but I could use the distraction. I’ve been up in my head lately.”

“Okay.” I scratch at my chin, then run my fingers through my hair, resting my elbow on the kitchen counter.

“What’s going on?” he asks.

“Do you happen to know any big artists in the New York area?”

“Of course,” he answers casually. “I know plenty. Is there one in particular you think I might know?”

“Um, Emily Rapture?” I ask, diving straight in while I massage the back of my neck.

“Oh.” Holt scoffs. “I know her. Emily is huge in the art scene. My magazine wrote an article on her a few years back. This was before she blew up and became a household name, but she’s incredible. Her art, I mean. She has this incredible gallery in Upstate New York that’s supposed to be opening sometime this year. I can’t recall when, though.”

“Would you be able to find out for me?” I ask, checking the time on my watch before checking my phone. I’ve already done a search on Emily Rapture and know she’s opening her new gallery in New York in the next six months, but I don’t know the specifics.

“What’s all this about? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“London mentioned her being one of her favorite artists, so I thought I’d see if I could get more details on when it opened.”

“Of course. You know, if you want, I can see if Emily can get you an early showing.”

“What? Really?”

“Definitely,” Holt answers. “I like to follow up with people we’ve covered in the past. See if there are any fresh stories we can write about them. This will give me the perfect opportunity to do that.”

“Awesome, man.” I sigh. “Thanks.”

“No problem. We should grab a drink this week. When you’re not working, of course.”

“Sounds good,” I tell him, and I mean it. I could use a night with my relatively new friend. I don’t have many, and while I like to keep it that way, I don’t want to stay a recluse.

It might be a good distraction from London, anyway.

I hang up with Holt just in time to catch Alden slipping off the stool in the kitchen. He leaves his mug on the counter and says he’ll be waiting for me downstairs. I give him a nod, but my mind quickly falls back to London in her gold bikini. My dick jerks, andfuck me, how am I going to spend the rest of the day like this?

My housekeeper makes her way down the expansive hallway of my high-rise apartment in Brooklyn, picking up Alden’s empty mug and loading it into the dishwasher. Alden is already out the door when she asks if I’d like her to make me breakfast. I tell her no. I’m hungry, but I know it isn’t food that will satisfy me.

I’m ready to walk out the door and race to The Veiled Door. London said she wouldn’t be showing up until later this afternoon, but I try to eliminate any chance of missing her. It’s starting to become problematic for me when it comes to the other bars. I’ve ignored my bar manager’s suspicions as to why I don’t visit their locations as often anymore, but I can’t help it.

London has stolen all my attention. To the point that I’mnow jerking off in the shower like some fucking teenager, fantasizing about her in a way I’ve never done before. Remembering the old London is one thing. Back then they were sweet and innocent thoughts. It was about protection and laughter. About finding friendship and solace in a place of complete utter darkness.

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