Page 47 of Rivals to Lovers
When they stepped inside the gallery and ran directly into Yuri Eikura, this prophecy was proven true.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Mo
Maureen had run into Ulla on the sidewalk outside and grabbed her arm like an old friend, or a lifesaver. “I guess we’re both looking for Wes,” Mo said.
“Oh, I am here for the scene. Keeps you younger than Botox to go to an art show and not understand a second of it,” Ulla responded.
They collected Wes outside and entered together. The art gallery had lofted ceilings, white walls, and pine flooring. The buzz of conversation wrapped them as they entered, but it was still quiet enough that Mo heard Yuri’s heels clicking against the wood as she approached. “You came!” Mo said, leaning in for the hug her agent offered.
But suddenly Yuri went stiff in Mo’s arms, despite being the one to reach out for her. Did Mo smell bad? She had sat next to someone eating a fish sandwich on the subway. She felt Yuri’s breath near her ear. “We need to talk later. Find me. Alone,” and then she pushed gently away from Mo and excused herself.
Mo glanced around to see if the exchange seemed weird to anyone else, but Ulla’s attention was elsewhere, and Wes was making pointed eye contact with his shoes. His gaze was so intent that Mo looked down at them—light-brown suede chukkas that she had to admit were nice but didn’t warrant that attention. “Hey, Earth to Wes,” she said, waving a hand in front of his face.
He looked up, rubbing his scruff in a nervous way. She wanted to touch that beard too, pet it to calm him down, but she didn’t think he’d appreciate being treated like a cat. He shouldn’t be the nervous one here. She was with both his momandhis best friends, two major steps that if they hadn’t been just friends with extremely good benefits, she should be nervous about.
And she should be glad about that, of course. After getting a text that Ulla was invited to the gallery opening too, Mo had felt the invitation shifting out of the possible date category into the “general hanging out” category. If they were casually hanging out, then Mo decided to use his offer to invite someone too. Having caught up with Yuri by email once or twice a month for the past year, she was overdue to see her in person and had invited her along on a whim. Yuri, it turned out, represented a client who had tried to get Ajay to do cover art for a book, so she was familiar with their work and said yes. There were millions of people in this city, but somehow you were supposed to be equally unsurprised if someone did or did not know someone else.
Which was exactly the kind of whiplash she suddenly had looking at Wes’s face. Suddenly her brain clicked. “Do you know Yuri?” Mo asked.
He cleared his throat, then touched her arm. “Kind of.” He seemed ready to say something else when a tall person in a white blouse emerged from a crowd of people near the center of the gallery. They had dark skin and loose, curly black hair resting above one of the most beautiful foreheads Mo had ever seen. She hadn’t considered how nice a forehead could be before.
Wes looked relieved at the interruption, removing his hand from Mo to offer to his friend. “Ajay! You have gotten taller somehow.”
“Shoe lifts. Loris found them.”
“You are already over six feet. You don’t need them.”
“Maybe I’m modeling them for you,” Ajay said, then, smiling, turned to Ulla and Mo. “Ulla, doll, it’s amazing to see you as always. And you are …?”
Mo shook their hand. “Maureen Denton. So nice to meet you.”
Ajay smiled wider. “Are you and Wes something?”
Wes cleared his throat. “Friends.”
Mo laughed. “Also enemies.”
“I like that dynamic, and I insist on the full story later. For now, look around. Get some wine, if you drink alcohol, and some cheese if you aren’t lactose intolerant.”
“Cheese is my love language,” Mo said.
A man in a black shirt with short-cropped blond hair popped over Ajay’s shoulder and placed a kiss on the side of their neck. “I’m also offering free insights on the state of modern journalism. Hi,” he said, offering Mo his hand and removing Ajay’s delicately from her grip. “I’m Ajay’s partner, Loris. I work at thePost.”
“Though he did intern for me once,” Ulla cut in, tucking her long silver hair behind her ears, then accepting Loris’s cheek kiss. “Couldn’t keep him, though. He didn’t care much about the state of modern table settings.”
“Wasn’t my passion, Ulla. You know my heart isn’t in flatware. Spoons don’t have enough secrets.” Loris’s smile was wide and infectious, too big for his face by half. He wasn’t handsome, and his foxy features—big mouth, too-clever eyes—made him look like he’d been designed to be a gossip reporter. Those ears that stuck out slightly on the side?The better to hear you with, my dear.Mo made a mental note to be careful with what she said around this very charming stranger.
Everyone paused conversation to look around, as if they’d been cued to do so. Even with her crack-of-dawn flight to Iowa tomorrow, Mo was glad for the distraction. She’d never been to this gallery and certainly never seen anything like this show before. Groups of people ambled up and down the ramped space. Oversized paintings of Power Rangers interacting with celebrities hung on the walls. In the closest painting, Tom Hanks stood at what seemed to be the helm of a giant robot, obviously painted as a good guy in this situation (every situation, though, right?). Other celebrities got less-rosy treatment—they were the ones slamming down buildings while the Power Rangers took them on.
It was more fun for Mo to watch the people looking at the paintings. Eyebrows rose as people pointed out cultural Easter eggs. “Is that Four Seasons Landscaping in this one?” Mo asked, pointing to one of a former political lawyer.
Ulla clucked appreciatively, pressing her hands down over her long white dress to smooth it. “Oh my. Can’t wait to take in the whole collection. Lovely turnout as always, Ajay.”
“Wes, I’m stealing you to show you my favorite,” Ajay said. “You too, Ulla.”
Wes glanced at Mo. She could feel the sudden weirdness of this not-date. “Mo, coming?”
