8
Laiken
The bellover the door jingled, and I looked up from the papers Addie and I were huddled over at my desk. My breath caught in my throat. Serena. She looked different yet undeniably familiar. My chest constricted as memories danced in the back of my mind. So many, it was a wonder I could hold them all.
“Laiken,” she greeted.
There wasn’t warmth in her tone, but there wasn’t anger, either.
“Welcome home, Serena.” I pushed to my feet and crossed to her. Nothing about her demeanor said she would’ve welcomed a hug, but I found myself wanting to try anyway. I resisted the urge. “How are you?”
“I’m back in the middle of nowhere. How do you think I am?”
Okay, so coming home wasn’t her choice. I ignored the dig and gestured to Addie. “This is my friend and the other gallery employee, Addie. Addie, this is Gilly’s niece, Serena.”
Addie gave her a warm smile. “Nice to meet you.”
“You, too,” she said, looking around the space.
“Want me to give you the tour?”
Serena’s head snapped in my direction. “I think I remember Gilly’s gallery well enough. There are two rooms. I’m not going to get lost.”
“Fair enough. Why don’t you refamiliarize yourself with the place, and then we can go over your duties?”
She scoffed. “Whatever.”
It was going to be a long day.
Heels clackedon the polished cement of the gallery floor. “I really don’t get why someone would want this in their house.”
Addie sent me a sidelong look from the chair she’d pulled up to the desk.
I squeezed the bridge of my nose. “Tastes in art are subjective, Serena.”
She snorted. “Clearly, since this depressing thing sold.”
Serena had only been working here a matter of hours, and I was already fighting the urge to throw her through the plate glass window. One morning, and I might have to tell Gilly that I quit, no matter how much I loved my job.
Addie cleared her throat. “I went over the guest list for the past three openings and combined them into one master list. Take a look and see if there’s anyone you think we should add or cut.”
Serena’s heels picked up their clacking again as she hurried over. “I want to see. I’m the perfect person to handle the guest list.”
I moved the paper out of her reach. “Have you finished organizing the crating supplies in the back room?”
She frowned at me. “I’m not wearing the right kind of clothes for that. Gilly didn’t inform me that there would be manual labor involved in this job.”
“There’s a little bit of everything involved, but that includes cleaning, building crates, and other less glamorous tasks.”
Serena’s mouth curved into a smile that I was sure typically got her what she wanted. With her blond hair highlighted and curled to perfection and her expertly applied makeup, there was no denying that she was beautiful. “Don’t you think it would work better to play to my strengths? I can plan a party with the best of them. I know the best caterers, and we could do live music. Maybe a string quartet—”
“Serena,” I stopped her gently. “Those are lovely ideas, but we don’t have that kind of budget.”
“What are you spending all my aunt’s money on then?”
I stiffened, but Addie hurried to answer. “A lot goes into keeping The Gallery running. Rent for the building, utilities, salaries for everyone who works here, the website, computer software, promotional materials, shipping.”
“None of that will take you to the next level of success. You need to be talked about in the right circles,” Serena pushed.