I frown. "What are you talking about?"
"Everyone thinks that love is the end. Fall in love and live happily ever after. That's bullshit, sweetie. Love is work. Like serious fucking work." She lifts a shoulder. "And I worry for you."
"For me? You don't think Wyatt will work at it?"
She slouches back against the divan. "I don't know him. Not yet. Not really. I'm sorry, Kels, but if you want the cold, honest truth, you're the one I worry about. You've put yourself in a box for so long, sweetie. I'm not sure you can fit anyone else in there with you."
I start to say something, but she talks over me.
"Which means the only way it'll work is if you come out of the box. And I don't know if you can do that. Not if it gets hard and scary. Because Kels, you're the girl who's always playing it safe. And sweetie, love doesn't have a safety net."
I'm in a sour mood as we leave the party and head toward the car an hour later, Nia's words still ringing in my ears.
Wyatt glances at me, his brow furrowed. "You want to talk about it?"
I shake my head. "It's nothing. Just best friend stuff." Not exactly a lie, but also not the truth.
He looks like he's going to argue the point, but the chirp of my phone signaling an incoming text cuts him off.
Since it's probably her, I dig in my purse for my phone, only to frown when I see that it's not from Nia, but from one of the other teachers.
I applaud you, but what an exit strategy. Hope it works out for you.
"Nia?" Wyatt asks, and I shake my head and hand him the phone.
"Another kindergarten teacher. I have no idea what she's talking about."
"Maybe she sent it to the wrong person."
It makes sense, and I start to tap out a response to let her know her text went astray. But I'm distracted by the fact that both Damien Stark and Siobhan--who I met once at Wyatt's studio--are standing by Wyatt's Navigator.
I know Siobhan's connection to Wyatt through the show, of course, but it takes me a second to remember that Damien Stark is the patron of the Stark Center for the Visual Arts, where Wyatt's show is scheduled to open.
I slow my pace, cold dread building inside me.
"Should I even ask?" Wyatt says.
"It's not good." Stark pushes off the car and walks to Wyatt.
"Considering you don't exactly get involved with the day-to-day operations of the center, I assumed as much. Tell me fast," he says. "If it's bad, you might as well get it over with."
"Should I leave you alone?" I ask them.
"No." Wyatt takes my hand. "You're with me."
"She needs to stay anyway," Damien says. "I'm sorry, Kelsey."
The dread in my stomach forms into a hard knot. Because there's no reason for a man like Damien Stark to know my name. Not unless I somehow ended up on his radar. And I shouldn't. Because my photos are supposed to be anonymous. No one's supposed to know except me and Wyatt and JP.
But they do. I can see it in their eyes. Stark and Siobhan.
"What happened?" I demand.
"Leah," Siobhan says, exhaling slowly. She passes me a digital tablet displaying a collage of social media posts. I'm too shocked to really focus. But I see enough. One of Wyatt's images of me with my face blurred out. And it's side by side with photos of me teaching dance and playing Red Rover at a kindergarten picnic.
"What are these?" I whisper, as beside me I feel Wyatt getting stiffer and stiffer with rage.
"Rumors," Damien says. "She started a rumor campaign, apparently with the blessing of Roger Jensen. It seems he told her that she'd be getting you a ton of free publicity."