Page 25 of Pride
“I do.”
“Then go back to the gallery. You can’t email the guy to apologise, but there must be someone there who can get a message to him.” She paused, then added. “I know you, Em. You’ll have sleepless nights until you get this sorted, so sort it today. Put your mind at rest.”
She was right, of course.
“Okay, I will. Thanks, Gracie. I knew talking to you would help.”
“That’s because I always have the answers.”
I smiled, and we said our goodbyes before hanging up.
“I guess I’ll be spending my afternoon at the gallery,” I said to myself as I pushed through the door of the toilets and back into the hallway. As I did, I noticed Dan retreating into the men’s room which was directly opposite. That little sneak couldn’t help himself. I’d bet any money he was listening to my phone call. He always had to know the office gossip. He’d be hacking into my emails next.
CHAPTER EIGHT
EMMA
Ididn’t expect to find myself back so soon, but here I was, swallowing my pride to walk into Berkeley Art Gallery and explain myself to whoever would listen. I doubt anyone would be giving me pink peonies this time, like the one that was currently sitting in a small vase in my living room.
As I pushed through the glass doors, I saw the woman I’d seen on Friday night, sitting behind the front desk, tapping away at her keyboard. I was hoping to bypass her and walk straight in, but right away she lifted her head, and in a bored tone, asked, “Can I help you?”
“Oh, hi,” I replied, feeling awkward. “I’m just here to look around.” I didn’t feel like explaining myself to her.
“Do you have an appointment?” she asked, staring down her nose at me. “I’m afraid you can’t just walk in. It’s appointment only.”
I was about to tell her where to stick her appointments or make something up on the spot, when I noticed Lloyd sauntering into the main area of the gallery, and I caught his eye.
“I’m here to see Lloyd.” I pointed at him, and he frowned slightly, but he wasn’t charging over here to throw me out, sothings weren’t looking too hopeless. “Thanks for your help.” I gave her a sickly-sweet grin and marched away.
“Emma.” Lloyd didn’t look that overjoyed to see me. The slight anger in his eyes and the tension in his jaw were a dead giveaway. He’d read the article. But he masked it well, painting on a fake smile and extended his arm to shake my hand. “I didn’t expect to see you here. How can I help?”
I shook his hand then took a deep breath, ready to have my say.
“I had to come, Lloyd. I expect you’ve seen the article.”
Lloyd dipped his head, then cleared his throat. “Yes. We’ve all read it. That’s why I’m surprised you’re here.”
“I’m so sorry,” I blurted, stepping closer to him. He didn’t move away. “That article and the things it said, they weren’t written by me. I mean, yes, it had my name on it, but I didn’t write it. On Friday, you were nothing but generous to me. So welcoming. And I really enjoyed being here and the performance, the art, all of it. It was amazing... and you... you’re amazing. This gallery put on a magnificent event and...”
“I’m sure you can understand how your article reflected badly on us, though,” he interjected, looking at me like he pitied me but wasn’t quite sure how to deal with me being here. “The artists we invite here can be somewhat... fragile, when it comes to the critique of their work. Your article was pretty damning.”
“But it wasn’t my article, that’s what I’m trying to tell you. And I feel awful about it.” I took a moment, waiting for him to tell me it was all okay. But he didn’t. He stayed silent. So, I went on. “I don’t want to upset any artists. And I was thinking, if you’re in contact with S.K.A.M. you could tell him how sorry we are at the Echo for printing that piece. I don’t have any way of contacting him, but I know you do.” I pleaded with my eyes now, as well as my words. “Please, Lloyd. Tell him it was a hugemistake. Tell him I didn’t mean to cause him so much hurt, but...”
“The words are out there now,” Lloyd stated plainly. Snapped even. He didn’t look convinced. “You can’t take them back, Emma. And if you can’t live with the consequences then maybe you shouldn’t have written...”
“But I already told you, it wasn’t me,” I argued, feeling like I was banging my head against a brick wall. Lloyd wasn’t listening and my visit here was starting to feel pointless.
“Nevertheless, the ripple effect from a review like that can be truly staggering.”
I felt a ten-tonne weight hit the bottom of my stomach, and adrenaline shots fired through me when I heard those words.
Truly staggering.
That’s whathe’dsaid in the email he’d sent me.
You just achieved something truly staggering.
I swallowed, trying to control my nerves as I leaned a little closer and whispered, “It’s you, isn’t it.”
