I ease onto the cushion and he sinks his teeth into a piece of chocolate. “Did you know that I have a weakness for chocolate?” He holds a chocolate to my mouth. “Try this one.”
I take a bite. “Well?” he prods.
“It’s delicious,” I say, and it is but the chocolate is not my focus right now. “You’re not upset at all?”
He leans in and kisses me. “Sweetheart, if a box of chocolate and some flowers win you over, then you weren’t ever mine to start with. But youaremine. He just doesn’t know it yet.”
There is a promise that he will capture me in those words that makes me nervous, but he pops another piece of chocolate in his mouth, stands up and takes me with him. “Let’s go show off that dress and your art.” And then he kisses me again, and when his tongue touches mine, the heady taste of sin, satisfaction, and chocolate overwhelms my senses. He overwhelms my senses and I forget to worry about anything and everyone else, Macom included.
But when we reach the elevator and step on the car, me in front of Nick, him holding me from behind, I remember the phone call they’d shared and the obvious realization I’ve ignored hits me. I turn to face him. “He just issued you a challenge, didn’t he?”
Nick arches a brow. “Did he? Because you of all people know that I can’t turn away from a challenge. And that could be very bad for him.”
The elevator opens to the busy lobby and when I turn, I find myself facing the devil himself: Macom is standing with Josh a few feet away.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Faith
Seeing Macom again punches me in the chest, and a world of dark, jagged emotions slash a path through me. A moment later, Nick’s hand settles at my lower back, and all is right in my world, and not because I feel protected. Because he’s here. Because he’s Nick. That’s all my mind has time to process before we’re crossing to meet them, both men watching us approach, both in expensive suits. Josh in navy blue, his dark hair as perfectly trimmed as usual. Macom stands out in a tan suit among dark colors, his curly hair is a bit wild. The color choice expected, as is the disarray of his hair, I know that he believes to be sexy. He likes to be different, and I used to see that as artsy and unique. Today it reads as tasteless, as was him sending me those gifts, when I know Josh had to have told him I was with Nick. When both Nick and I had told him that I was with Nick.
Josh leans in to speak to Macom, clearly telling him to leave. Macom quite obviously snaps back at him, most likely throwing around his power. Macom won’t back down. Not here. This is his castle and he’s king. He thinks that makes Nick a peasant, but he’s wrong.
Nick and I arrive to stand in front of them, me directly in front of Macom. My gaze meets his, and the heat in Macom’s stare is awkward and so blatant, so “I want to fuck you again” that there is no way Nick doesn’t see it. I look to Josh, who smiles and winks. “Looking gorgeous, darling. We want people to know your work, but it doesn’t hurt for them to remember you’re as stunning as your work.”
“Thank you, Josh.”
“You’ve always been stunning, Faith,” Macom dares.
Nick looks at him. “Macom, right?”
“Yes,” he says. “Macom Maloy.”
Nick arches a brow. “I believe I’ve heard the name, outside of what Faith has shared in graphic detail, of course. Up and coming, aren’t you?”
“Up and coming?” Macom replies tightly. “Not many people call me up and coming.”
“Ah well, they will, I’m sure. Hang in there. You’ll be a Chris Merit in no time who is a big fan of Faith’s by the way.”
Macom’s lips tighten. “So I hear.”
“On another topic,” Nick continues. “I should say thank you. Aside from the fact that you lost Faith, which led her to me, I love chocolate. Faith and I ate that shit up.” He glances at me. “Didn’t we, sweetheart?”
Considering Macom looked at me like he wanted to lift my skirt, clearly baiting Nick, I don’t so much as miss a beat. I look from Nick to Macom. “Yes, thank you. The chocolate and the flowers were lovely. And it was unexpected considering our last communication.”
Macom’s lips twist wryly. “That was interesting, but something tells me this night will be as well.” He glances at Josh. “I need you at the stage in forty-five minutes.” And on that note, he leaves.
Josh exhales. “Holy hell. Let that be it. Awkward, fucked up, but done.” He pins me in a look. “Head to the second level. That entire floor is the party. At eight o’clock there will be a ceremony, at which time they will announce the top new artists of the year. And I’d tell you that might be you, but I won’t see your work until I walk up those stairs.”
“It’s displayed tonight?” I ask, suddenly anxious.
“Some of it. Each year, the show’s top two executives pick the top three pieces for each artist. No one is allowed to see those picks in advance.”
“Isn’t Macom a part of the board in some way?” Nick asks.
“He is,” Josh says, “but his role is more public show than anything. He didn’t get a vote on entries and he didn’t get a vote on the winner that will be announced tonight. He does most likely know the winner, as he’s presenting the award. Which unfortunately, means it’s not Faith. If it were, he’d have told me.”
I didn’t even know about the award. I didn’t hope to win, but that announcement still cuts.