Page 33 of His to Possess
"Laurel it is," August said, leaning back in his chair, looking entirely too pleased with himself. "I have a feeling this is the beginning of a fruitful partnership."
I was about to dig deeper into his motives when our server approached the table. "Good morning. Are you ready to order?"
August glanced at me, eyebrows raised in question. "Ladies first?"
I nodded, realizing I hadn't even looked at the menu. Quickly scanning it, I made a snap decision. "I'll have the smoked salmon benedict, please. And a cappuccino."
"Excellent choice," August said, before turning to the server. "I'll have the same, but with an espresso instead."
As the server left, I turned my attention back to August. "So, shall we discuss what you hired me for?"
He raised an eyebrow at my words. "I'm more than certain you're already familiar with the project itself." And he was right. From the moment he brought it up and Molly asked me to work on it, I spent my work hours researching it. I wanted to be prepared and to give my best to the opportunity I was given. Many regrets lingered from Paris, but the biggest was not doingthings the right way. This time, I'd do what needed to be done and do it properly. Or, at least, that's what I told myself.
As our coffee arrived, I steered the conversation towards the project, feeling relieved to be on safer ground. I found that talking to August was, ironically, much easier than talking to Rex. He was much more open and approachable, and things just… flowed with him in a way I could never imagine would happen with Rex.
This project wasn't just a facade or a ploy; it was real, substantial, and clearly something he was passionate about. His pride in the initiative was evident in the way his eyes lit up as he outlined the goals and potential impact.
I took a bite of my smoked salmon benedict, savoring the flavors as I listened intently. August's organization impressed me; he had prepared a comprehensive list of paintings slated for restoration, complete with their current conditions and historical significance. As he handed me a folder filled with student applications, I couldn't help but feel a spark of excitement. These young, eager minds would be looking to me for guidance, and the thought both thrilled and humbled me. I was once amongst them, which was why I couldn't pass on this opportunity. I wanted to be someone I could have used when I was younger. In my current reality of so many complications, this was the one thing that brought me true joy. The one thing that made sense entirely.
Time seemed to slip away as we delved deeper into the project's logistics. August produced permits and location details, each document adding another layer of legitimacy to the endeavor. I found myself scribbling notes furiously, my mind already racing with ideas and potential approaches. I wanted to remain on top of all of this, and I wanted to prove to him that I was worth the chance that had been given to me.
The more we discussed, the more I became invested in the project's success. It wasn't just about restoring art; it was about preserving history, nurturing young talent, and giving back to the community. I could see why August spoke about it with such enthusiasm—it was a noble cause, one that resonated with my own passion for art.
As we finished our meal, I realized I had filled several pages of my notebook. The project consumed my thoughts, pushing aside the lingering unease from my morning rush and my complicated situation with Rex. For these moments, I was simply Laurel Bowers, art expert, excited about the challenge ahead.
I looked up from my notes, suddenly aware of the emptying restaurant. The lunch rush had passed, leaving only a few stragglers. I started gathering my things, ready to wrap up our productive session.
"I'll put together a detailed plan and get back to you soon," I said, reaching for my bag.
August's hand on my wrist stopped me. His touch was light but firm, and I felt a subtle shift in the energy between us.
"Why don't you stay for one last coffee?" he suggested, his voice smooth. "We focused so much on work. Let's relax for a moment."
I hesitated, curiosity warring with caution. Something in his tone changed, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Against my better judgment, I nodded.
"Alright, one more coffee," I agreed, settling back into my seat. After all, with so much we had discussed over the past few hours together, I supposed there were still a few things here and there that we could talk about. Safe topics, of course, to keep us both comfortable.
The server appeared as if summoned, refilling our cups before disappearing again. August leaned back, his posture relaxed, but his eyes sharp.
"How does it feel to leave the art hub of Paris for rainy Chicago?"
The question caught me off guard. It was innocent enough on the surface, but I could sense the weight behind it. I took a sip of coffee, buying time to formulate my response. I should've known that Paris would come back to haunt my present again and again. No matter how much I ran, I could never put enough distance between us. Some stains could simply not be removed, no matter how much one tried.
"I would have thought you'd know all about that already," I said carefully, meeting his gaze. "As Rex does."
August's lips curled into a small smile. "Ah, but you see, for newcomers on the Chicago scene, everyone gets curious. Especially after that auction." He leaned forward slightly. "And Rex? Well, let's just say his interest was particularly piqued by your arrival."
My pulse quickened, aware that I was treading on dangerous ground. "Is that so?" I kept my tone neutral, but it wasn't easy. I didn't want anyone to suspect, let alone know anything close to the arrangement that I had with Rex. In fact, I didn't even want to be affiliated with him in public, for the most part. The mere thought of it made my stomach twist. The truth was, no matter how much I researched him, there was very little I knew about Rex Compton. Now that I was away from him, I could see it so clearly. For all I knew, he could decide to publicly share the arrangement we have and end me once and for all. Suddenly, bile rose to my throat, but I fought not to let it show.
I felt a chill run down my spine as August leaned in, his eyes never leaving mine. "Rex and I go way back. We were in the same circles for years—business, art, you name it."
My curiosity got the better of me. "How did you two meet?"
August's lips curled into a wry smile. "It was at a charity auction, much like the one where we first saw you. We wereboth young, ambitious, and hungry for success. We hit it off immediately—two wolves recognizing each other in a sea of sheep."
"So you were friends?"
"For a time." August nodded, his eyes distant with memory. "We pushed each other, challenged each other. It was exhilarating. But soon, that friendly competition turned… less friendly."
