My mouth is on autopilot, my head spinning while my stomach feels ready to revolt. I’ve got a lot of decisions ahead of me—most of which I’m not eager to make. Right now, I just need to get through the night and get home so I can start figuring out what I’m going to do. And in the back of my mind, I know this conversation has just solidified the fact that I’m also going to need to get busy packing up for . . . somewhere.
I feel the walls crushing in on me the longer I stay on the line. I need to be moving. I need to be busy or I’m going to scream.
I clear my throat. “Listen, we’re really slammed over here tonight. I’ve got to get back out to the bar.”
“Oh, of course. I thought I heard restaurant noise in the background. I’m on my way home now, so if you need anything tonight—if you just want to talk some more—give me a call, okay?”
“I will,” I lie.
“Avery, I’m really sorry.”
“I know. I get it, and it’s all right.” I feel awkward and inferior, and I can’t deny that I’m also more than a little heartbroken to hear that my art wasn’t good enough for Dominion’s owner. And I’m pissed at myself for actually thinking it could be. “I gotta run now. I’ll call you in a few days. Thanks, Margot. For everything.”
I hit the end button, then tip my head back against the wall and exhale a curse.
What the hell am I going to do now?
Chapter 3
When I head back out to the floor, Tasha doesn’t give me as much as a second to regroup before she’s bee-lining my way. “So? Tell me! What’d she . . . Oh, fuck.”
My face no doubt tells it all.
“Oh, honey. Come here.” At twenty-seven, she’s only two years older than me, but she slides effortlessly into nurture mode, looping her arm around my shoulders and steering me away from the busier area of the bar. “Tell me what happened.”
“I lost my spot at Dominion. They’re bringing in some better artists and they need the space, so I’m out.”
“What?” Tasha doesn’t hold back her outrage, and to my chagrin, about a dozen people seated at the bar glance in our direction. “That’s bullshit. You’re an amazing artist, Avery. You deserve to be there as much as anyone else.”
I bark out a brittle laugh. “Apparently the gallery’s clientele don’t feel that way. Neither does the owner.”
“Well, they’re wrong.” Tasha’s dark eyes study me with a deepening concern. She puts her hand on my forearm, forcing me to hold her gaze. “Fuck them, Avery. They’re all wrong.”
I shake my head and withdraw from her comforting touch before her tenderness makes me crack. “It’s no big deal. In fact, I knew this day was coming. I’ve only sold one piece all this time. Margot believes in my work, but she’s not running a charity. And God knows, kindness never paid my rent either. Which reminds me, I’ve got customers to take care of—”
Tasha steps into my path to block my escape. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah.” I hold her concerned, too-wise gaze then shrug. “Believe me, I’ve survived worse. I’m fine.”
She doesn’t move. Doesn’t release me from her stare. Behind her, one of the servers calls to her with an incoming drink order. Tasha holds up her finger to him in response, all of her focus on me. “I’m your friend, damn it. Don’t piss me off by acting like I’m not. Are things that bad for you right now?”
I want to deny it outright, but the words don’t come.
I never can seem to hide much from Tasha, and her expression tells me that I wouldn’t be fooling her even if I tried. But as well as she’s come to know me since we’ve been working together, there are still things she doesn’t know. Things no one knows about me. Not here in this new city, this new life I’m trying to make for myself.
And as much as I’d like to keep my current personal problems a secret from Tasha, she’s obviously not about to let me shut her out right now.
“My building’s being turned into condos and I’m getting evicted from my apartment.” I blurt it out without taking a breath. “I have two weeks before I have to either buy my place or move out of it.”
“Jesus, Avery. A couple of weeks? What are you going to do?”
“The only thing I can do—move out. I can’t afford to stay and even if I had the money I wouldn’t want to buy in that roach-infested building.”
“Shit, honey. Where will you go?”
“I don’t know.” It’s the truth. Even though I can feel Pennsylvania tightening its grip on me where I stand, I’m not ready to admit total defeat yet. I’m not ready to give up.
Tasha nods, contemplation churning in her caring eyes. “If you need someplace to stay while you figure things out, Antonio and I can make room for you at the house. We don’t have a spare bedroom, but there’s a sleeper sofa in the living room that’s yours for however long you need it.”