Follow Me(42)

And then Audrey looked up and directly at me, her brilliant, jewel-colored eyes staring right through the screen and into the farthest reaches of my aching heart. It swelled within my chest, constricting my lungs, my throat, choking me. I gagged painfully, but oh, what a way to go, asphyxiated by love.

On the screen, Audrey smiled.





CHAPTER THIRTY





AUDREY


Three champagne-heavy mimosas deep, I hadn’t been able to take Cat’s plaintive sobbing any longer and had come up with the idea to put both Cat and Connor on the list for the museum’s exclusive preview for The Life and Death of Rosalind Rose. I thought it was inspired. Cat seemed doubtful, but I had finally convinced her that the problem wasn’t that she was some sort of hideous, unlovable troll, as she seemed to believe. Rather, the problem was that Connor had only ever known Cat as a classmate, colleague, and trivia buddy. If she wanted him to consider her a potential romantic partner, she needed him to see her through a different lens. The preview was the perfect location for that: a little glamorous, a lot out of their comfort zone, and with a built-in topic of conversation.

On the night of the event, as museum members and donors began arriving, I worried I hadn’t properly counseled Cat on what to wear. I wouldn’t put it past her to come straight from work in her usual ink-stained suit and unflattering pumps with their ground-down heels, which would totally defeat the purpose of removing her from her usual environs. I was about to text her some last-minute ideas when she entered the room. I relaxed. She’d traded her usual frumpy work wear for a pair of slim, cream-colored pants that showed off her long legs and a cadet-blue tunic that matched her eyes. Her hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders, and her lips were painted a subtle rosy hue. Even her fingernails, usually a shade of pale pink so boring I wanted to die, were a punchier rose. She was standing erect, her neck elongated as she looked around the room.

“Hey, gorgeous,” I greeted her. “You look stunning.”

“Really?” she asked anxiously. “Thanks. You don’t think this is a little much?”

“Not at all. It’s exactly the right amount of much for a first date.”

“This isn’t a date,” Cat said quickly, flushing.

“Sure it isn’t. Speaking of, where is Connor?”

“He got stuck on a call, but he’s on his way.” Her mouth trembled slightly, and she started to raise her hand to her mouth. “That’s what he said, at least. I went home to change.”

“Then we’ll see him soon. Listen, I wish I could stay and chat, but I promised my boss I would be on social media all night, so I have to get back to work. You’ll be all right until Connor gets here?”

Cat nodded the affirmative even as her expression said otherwise.

“You’ll be fine,” I assured her. “Have a drink. Meet some new people. Have fun!”

? ? ?

FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, I could only hope Cat was having fun because I decidedly was not. Midway through a Live chat with the Director of Exhibitions, my phone had flashed a low-power warning. My stomach sank— I had plugged in my phone that afternoon; had the cord been bad? I wrapped the Live up as quickly as I could, and then rushed out of the gallery toward the office space.

Don’t be such a fucking amateur, Audrey, I thought angrily as I dug through my desk drawers in search of an external battery. I sorted through various ephemera—pens, paper clips, loose bobby pins, a mostly empty package of Orbit—my panic growing with each moment.

I know there’s a battery in here, I thought, and sent up a quick prayer to whichever body might be listening. Please, please let it be here.

I exhaled a sigh of relief as my fingers closed around it. Thank you. As I attached the battery to my phone, I heard someone enter the room behind me. My skin prickled, and I had the sudden thought that the creep whom Lawrence always jokingly called the president of my fan club had followed me in here. That was irrational, though. I hadn’t seen him all day, and certainly not that night.

I spun around and relaxed when I saw it was only Lawrence, looking dapper in a polka-dot bow tie and with his light hair carefully combed and gelled.

“You scared me!” I exclaimed with a relieved laugh.

“Sorry,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. “That wasn’t my intention.”

He was smiling, but the intense way he held my eyes sent a warning flare up my spine. I shrugged it off. Honestly, I was so paranoid these days that even Nick was giving me the creeps.

“What are you doing in here?” I asked to break the tension.

“I saw you come this way and didn’t know if you needed help with anything.”

“Nope,” I said, holding up the battery. “I was just looking for this. All good now, thanks.”

Lawrence straightened and licked his lips. “Audrey, now that we’re alone—”

The warning flare transformed into full-blown alarm. Nothing good ever started with the phrase “Now that we’re alone.”

“I really should get back to the gallery,” I interrupted, taking a step toward the door.

“Just a second,” he said, catching me by the arm.

I looked uneasily at his hand. It was resting lightly on my forearm, an ostensibly friendly touch, and yet it felt vaguely threatening. Lecherous Larry. I shook his hand off me.