Second Chance Girl
Page 30
What? Had he remembered? Decided to come clean about faking not remembering? Was he going to tell her he was sorry, that it had been awful? Was the giraffe a mercy gift?
She picked up the piece of glass and handed it to him, then dug her keys out of her bag and opened the door. She would wait, she told herself. Let him say what he wanted to say before jumping to conclusions.
They went inside. Sophie sniffed around her living room, as if making sure no other dog had challenged her favorite guest-dog status, then made herself at home in an armchair. Carol took back the giraffe and placed it in the center of her small kitchen table where it would catch the light. She thought briefly about offering Mathias a drink, but the last time they’d had liquor, things had gone weird, so maybe not. She returned to the living room and sat at one end of the sofa. He remained standing.
“It’s about Millie,” he began, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets, then pulling them out.
“Do you want it back?” she asked. He’d said it was for her. Did he not mean for her to keep it?
“Not that one. The real Millie. I talked to Ronan. He’s going to donate a piece. Atsuko will hold a private event at the gallery. She’ll put out the word to collectors and make a night of it. The proceeds will go to Millie’s fund. It should be enough to buy the herd and get them here.”
He kept talking, but she couldn’t hear anything else. Not after those simple words—The proceeds will go to Millie’s fund. It should be enough to buy the herd.
She thought about her solitary giraffe who had no friends and how much better it would be when Millie was part of a family. She thought about the fund-raisers she’d been researching and how far she and Millie still had to go. It could have taken years, but here in one moment, with a few words, Mathias had changed everything.
She stood, then sat back down as her shaking legs refused to support her. “What? Mathias, are you sure?”
“That you can get that much? Yeah. Ronan’s work goes for a lot. He wants you to pick something out. Ask him which ones are the most rare. Those will go for the most.”
She blinked away tears. “No, I mean are you sure he’ll do this?”
“Yeah, he will.”
The truth slammed into her. “Because you asked him to,” she whispered, more to herself than him. “This is you, not him.”
“It’s his piece that will bring in the money you need.” His dark gaze settled on her face. “I should have thought of this a long time ago. It’s those damn cans. I’m tired of seeing them everywhere.”
She stood and crossed to him. There were no words, nothing she could say to express her gratitude. Still, she had to try.
“Thank you,” she said and instinctively reached for him.
In that moment, she wasn’t sure if she was going to hug him, kiss him or burst into tears. Before she could decide, he moved back and half turned away from her.
“You don’t have to thank me,” he said quickly. “I like watching Millie in the morning. It will be better when she has her herd.”
The words were friendly enough, the body language less so. She couldn’t fool herself any longer—he wasn’t interested in her that way. He never had been. Whatever had happened that night had been the result of too much alcohol. He was pretending to forget because if he admitted what happened, they would have to talk about it. He would be forced to answer questions and he didn’t want to hurt her feelings.
Humiliation over that night combined with happiness about the money for Millie. Maybe he’d really wanted to help or maybe he’d asked Ronan out of sex guilt. She didn’t want it to be the latter, but either way, she wasn’t going to say no. Not when giraffe happiness was on the line. As for her own battered feelings, she would deal with them when she was alone.
“Thank you,” she said again, careful to move away so he wouldn’t worry that she would attack him again. “You’re doing an amazing thing.”
“It’s Ronan, not me.”
“It’s you, but I’ll be sure to thank him, as well.”
They looked at each other, then away. Silence settled between them, creating an uncomfortable pause.
“I should get home so I can feed Sophie,” he told her. “Get in touch with Ronan. He’s expecting to hear from you. And Atsuko. She said she can pull this together pretty fast.”
“I will. You were great. Millie and I appreciate all that you’ve done.”
“No big deal.”
He walked to the door and whistled for Sophie. The beagle raced after him, her tail wagging.
Carol let them out, walked to the kitchen table and stared at the giraffe statue. It was still amazing and beautiful and practically alive. A gift from Mathias—perhaps a subconscious way for him to apologize for not wanting to have sex with her again. Not that he’d had sex the first time.
Her eyes burned, but she refused to give in to anything but happy emotions. Millie was getting a herd. That was what mattered. As for Mathias—he’d never been for her. She’d been silly to think otherwise.
She dug out her cell phone and pushed a couple of buttons. When her father answered, she drew in a breath. “Dad, you’ll never guess what just happened. It’s about Millie. She’s getting her herd.”
* * *
CAROL WAS USED to being around stylish women. Her sister dressed really well and had a talent for taking an outfit from ordinary to amazing with a bit of ribbon and a couple of buttons. But when compared to the woman who ran the gallery, Violet was just an amateur, while Atsuko was a grand master.
The fifty-something gallery owner favored Asian inspired outfits. Today’s magazine-worthy ensemble featured slim black pants and a deep red embroidered jacket with a mandarin collar. Her hair was sleek, her makeup perfect. Normally Carol was completely comfortable with her sensible work look, but in the gallery and around Atsuko, she felt the tiniest bit frumpy.
“I’m so sorry,” Atsuko told her. “I’m an idiot. I should have thought of approaching Ronan myself months ago. It’s the perfect solution.”
“For me. I’m less sure about how Ronan feels.” Not that she was going to push her luck by asking. Mathias had gotten his brother to agree to the donation. She was going to take it and run, so to speak. If Mathias was acting out of sexual regret guilt, that was perfectly fine with her.
Okay, not fine, exactly. In truth, she was still humiliated by the thought, but she would get over it. At least Millie would live a happy life. That was far more important than any shame Carol might be dealing with.
“Ronan has an entire storeroom of pieces I’ve tried to talk him into selling.” Atsuko smiled. “I’m glad one of us was able to get him to sell one of them. The collectors are going to be salivating. I’ve spoken to your father and we’re going to coordinate publicity. As soon as you decide which one you want, I’ll get it photographed and put out the word. We’re going to have a lovely event.”
Carol was less sure about picking out a piece of art but she figured she would simply ask Ronan his opinion. While she’d never had much contact with him beyond casual hellos, Nick and Mathias were both nice guys. Ronan couldn’t be all that different than his brothers.
“I’m so excited,” Atsuko continued. “This is going to be an evening to remember.”
“I hope so. Thank you for hosting the event. I really appreciate it.”
She picked up the piece of glass and handed it to him, then dug her keys out of her bag and opened the door. She would wait, she told herself. Let him say what he wanted to say before jumping to conclusions.
They went inside. Sophie sniffed around her living room, as if making sure no other dog had challenged her favorite guest-dog status, then made herself at home in an armchair. Carol took back the giraffe and placed it in the center of her small kitchen table where it would catch the light. She thought briefly about offering Mathias a drink, but the last time they’d had liquor, things had gone weird, so maybe not. She returned to the living room and sat at one end of the sofa. He remained standing.
“It’s about Millie,” he began, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets, then pulling them out.
“Do you want it back?” she asked. He’d said it was for her. Did he not mean for her to keep it?
“Not that one. The real Millie. I talked to Ronan. He’s going to donate a piece. Atsuko will hold a private event at the gallery. She’ll put out the word to collectors and make a night of it. The proceeds will go to Millie’s fund. It should be enough to buy the herd and get them here.”
He kept talking, but she couldn’t hear anything else. Not after those simple words—The proceeds will go to Millie’s fund. It should be enough to buy the herd.
She thought about her solitary giraffe who had no friends and how much better it would be when Millie was part of a family. She thought about the fund-raisers she’d been researching and how far she and Millie still had to go. It could have taken years, but here in one moment, with a few words, Mathias had changed everything.
She stood, then sat back down as her shaking legs refused to support her. “What? Mathias, are you sure?”
“That you can get that much? Yeah. Ronan’s work goes for a lot. He wants you to pick something out. Ask him which ones are the most rare. Those will go for the most.”
She blinked away tears. “No, I mean are you sure he’ll do this?”
“Yeah, he will.”
The truth slammed into her. “Because you asked him to,” she whispered, more to herself than him. “This is you, not him.”
“It’s his piece that will bring in the money you need.” His dark gaze settled on her face. “I should have thought of this a long time ago. It’s those damn cans. I’m tired of seeing them everywhere.”
She stood and crossed to him. There were no words, nothing she could say to express her gratitude. Still, she had to try.
“Thank you,” she said and instinctively reached for him.
In that moment, she wasn’t sure if she was going to hug him, kiss him or burst into tears. Before she could decide, he moved back and half turned away from her.
“You don’t have to thank me,” he said quickly. “I like watching Millie in the morning. It will be better when she has her herd.”
The words were friendly enough, the body language less so. She couldn’t fool herself any longer—he wasn’t interested in her that way. He never had been. Whatever had happened that night had been the result of too much alcohol. He was pretending to forget because if he admitted what happened, they would have to talk about it. He would be forced to answer questions and he didn’t want to hurt her feelings.
Humiliation over that night combined with happiness about the money for Millie. Maybe he’d really wanted to help or maybe he’d asked Ronan out of sex guilt. She didn’t want it to be the latter, but either way, she wasn’t going to say no. Not when giraffe happiness was on the line. As for her own battered feelings, she would deal with them when she was alone.
“Thank you,” she said again, careful to move away so he wouldn’t worry that she would attack him again. “You’re doing an amazing thing.”
“It’s Ronan, not me.”
“It’s you, but I’ll be sure to thank him, as well.”
They looked at each other, then away. Silence settled between them, creating an uncomfortable pause.
“I should get home so I can feed Sophie,” he told her. “Get in touch with Ronan. He’s expecting to hear from you. And Atsuko. She said she can pull this together pretty fast.”
“I will. You were great. Millie and I appreciate all that you’ve done.”
“No big deal.”
He walked to the door and whistled for Sophie. The beagle raced after him, her tail wagging.
Carol let them out, walked to the kitchen table and stared at the giraffe statue. It was still amazing and beautiful and practically alive. A gift from Mathias—perhaps a subconscious way for him to apologize for not wanting to have sex with her again. Not that he’d had sex the first time.
Her eyes burned, but she refused to give in to anything but happy emotions. Millie was getting a herd. That was what mattered. As for Mathias—he’d never been for her. She’d been silly to think otherwise.
She dug out her cell phone and pushed a couple of buttons. When her father answered, she drew in a breath. “Dad, you’ll never guess what just happened. It’s about Millie. She’s getting her herd.”
* * *
CAROL WAS USED to being around stylish women. Her sister dressed really well and had a talent for taking an outfit from ordinary to amazing with a bit of ribbon and a couple of buttons. But when compared to the woman who ran the gallery, Violet was just an amateur, while Atsuko was a grand master.
The fifty-something gallery owner favored Asian inspired outfits. Today’s magazine-worthy ensemble featured slim black pants and a deep red embroidered jacket with a mandarin collar. Her hair was sleek, her makeup perfect. Normally Carol was completely comfortable with her sensible work look, but in the gallery and around Atsuko, she felt the tiniest bit frumpy.
“I’m so sorry,” Atsuko told her. “I’m an idiot. I should have thought of approaching Ronan myself months ago. It’s the perfect solution.”
“For me. I’m less sure about how Ronan feels.” Not that she was going to push her luck by asking. Mathias had gotten his brother to agree to the donation. She was going to take it and run, so to speak. If Mathias was acting out of sexual regret guilt, that was perfectly fine with her.
Okay, not fine, exactly. In truth, she was still humiliated by the thought, but she would get over it. At least Millie would live a happy life. That was far more important than any shame Carol might be dealing with.
“Ronan has an entire storeroom of pieces I’ve tried to talk him into selling.” Atsuko smiled. “I’m glad one of us was able to get him to sell one of them. The collectors are going to be salivating. I’ve spoken to your father and we’re going to coordinate publicity. As soon as you decide which one you want, I’ll get it photographed and put out the word. We’re going to have a lovely event.”
Carol was less sure about picking out a piece of art but she figured she would simply ask Ronan his opinion. While she’d never had much contact with him beyond casual hellos, Nick and Mathias were both nice guys. Ronan couldn’t be all that different than his brothers.
“I’m so excited,” Atsuko continued. “This is going to be an evening to remember.”
“I hope so. Thank you for hosting the event. I really appreciate it.”
