Venus in Love (11 page)

*

Lee arrived at the office early for a couple of reasons. The first one was because she had a busy day of original and rescheduled meetings, and the second was in the office next door. She knew that today, Morgan was going to meet her, and she wasn’t sure that things would go well. Actually, she was almost certain that things were going to get rough. According to Alex, Morgan had jumped in with both feet the day before and had been working steadily in her office all morning. Lee was excited to see what plans Morgan already had, but more importantly, she was excited to simply see her. Lee stuck her head out of her office and asked Alex how things were going.

“Uh…fine. Why?”

“Has everyone gone to lunch?” As Lee asked the question, the elevator dinged, and Lee quickly stepped back into the office but kept Alex in her sight.

Alex looked strangely at Lee and then to the elevator.

Alex stood, “Mrs. Dencourt. Good afternoon, ma’am. I was not expecting you today. I’ll clear Lee’s calendar.” Alex grabbed the schedule.

“Alex, sweetheart, no. I’ll only be a moment. Is she in?”

Before Alex answered, Lee appeared in the doorway, clearly composed and with none of the awkwardness from moments before. “Mother, come in.” Lee had felt like her heart would pound out of her chest for hours already. She was nervous and jumpy and really should have bathed in an antiperspirant.

After showing her mother inside the office, Lee asked Alex again, “Is
everyone
at lunch?”

“Um…yes, ma’am, I believe so.”

Lee hugged her mother. “Hello, Mother. What brings you here today?”

“Tuesday brunch is at The Fourth Estate at the National Press Club with the Art Guild. You know, if they’re going to keep asking for money, I’m going to make them commute to me instead of the other way around.”

“Certainly sounds reasonable. Would you like anything? Coffee? Tea?” Lee asked as her mother sat in one of the high-back guest chairs.

“Tea sounds lovely, darling. Thank you”

Lee opened the side door and stepped across the hall to the break room. It was more of a coffee nook with an espresso maker and refrigerator. She made two mugs of tea and crossed back to her office. She handed one of the steaming cups to her mother and stepped back to lean her hips on the edge of her desk.

Lee continued the conversation that her mother began before the tea request. Lee sat listening and laughing at her mother’s rant. Her mother was hardly as tough-skinned as she wanted everyone to think, and although she talked a big game, she always did what was best for the majority involved and not just herself. As Lee continued to indulge her mother’s ranting, a movement to her right caught her attention, and Lee looked over at the door she had forgotten to close behind her.

Lee lurched forward off her desk so quickly that the hot tea sloshed out of her mug and over her hand, but it wasn’t the burn that caused her to gasp. It was Morgan, and the glaring look she gave Lee from the doorway.

*

Earlier, Morgan had gone down to the cafeteria for lunch. She needed a break. After Morgan ate her lunch, she politely conversed with a few employees who would actually acknowledge her. Several other staff members were huddled together at a table in the corner whispering and eyeing her snidely. It wasn’t anything that Morgan hadn’t experienced during her first few weeks at the Louvre, however this time it was different. She was the boss now. Although, she was sure that was exactly the problem.

When she’d finished, she headed back to her office. She had hoped to run into the director prior to their scheduled afternoon meeting. Yet, when she returned the door to Ms. Dencourt’s office was still closed.

Alex was on the phone but gave her a quick nod when she exited the elevator. Morgan smiled in response. She really liked Alex. As she made her way down the hallway, she heard conversation coming from an unexpectedly open door of the director’s office. Morgan thought this was a convenient opportunity to peek in and introduce herself.

Before she reached the door, she recognized an eerily familiar voice. It couldn’t be. As she looked into the office, her stomach leapt into her throat. It was…it was her.

Lee was leaning causally on the front of a large mahogany desk holding a coffee mug. Morgan stood frozen in the doorway pleading with her brain to make her feet move. What was she doing here? Lee was so comfortable and confident in the director’s office, it reminded her of when she had seen her coming out of Director Foillot’s office in Paris.

Before she could slip unnoticed out of the doorway, Lee looked over and straight into her eyes.

*

“Morgan!” Lee called. But Morgan had freed herself from her paralysis and turned toward her office. “Morgan, wait!” Lee moved swiftly toward a retreating Morgan.
Dammit, this was not the way it was supposed to happen.

When Lee reached the hallway, Morgan was standing still, her back toward her. “Morgan, please. Let me explain. Please.” Morgan turned around. Looks of confusion and disbelief warred on her face. Lee moved closer to Morgan. “It’s good to see you. There’s a lot I need to say to you. Will you please come back to my office with me?”

“Your…what?”

“Yes, my office. Please.” Lee nearly begged with the last word.

Morgan merely nodded and followed Lee into the other room.

*

Morgan followed Lee and stopped just inside the office where an older woman stood looking at each of them curiously.

“Morgan Blake. This is Mrs. Clara Dencourt, my mother. Mother, this is Ms. Morgan Blake, the new head curator.” Mrs. Dencourt rose from her chair and held out her hand toward Morgan.

Morgan lightly shook the gentle hand. It reminded her of Lee’s firm and equally gentle hand the first time they had officially met. She shook the memory from her mind. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Dencourt.”

“Likewise, Ms. Blake. Welcome to our beloved gallery. I have heard wonderful things about you and your exceptional talent from Ainsley,” she said sincerely.

“I’m not certain how much she may even know about me, Mrs. Dencourt.” Morgan was still incredibly unsettled by this turn of events.

“Well, my dear. I know only what I’ve seen on your curriculum vitae, and while it is lacking much of what I would expect for a position of this level, Ainsley is an exceptional judge of character. If she believes that you possess the talent and requirements to perform the job, as the director, it is within her purview to retain you. Regardless of my opinions on the subject. I have faith in her faith.” She turned to Lee. “Well, I must be going. Again, it was lovely to meet you, Ms. Blake.”

Morgan felt like she’d been punched in the gut, twice.

Lee asked Morgan to have a seat before she walked her mother out, but Morgan had no intention of sitting. She was far too on edge to relax.

Was this some sort of cruel joke? Was it some power play by Lee to show Morgan how much better off she was, or was it some grandiose way for Lee to make an apology? No matter what the reasoning, Morgan was not comfortable with the feeling that she was a pawn in some game.

“I knew it. I knew this was too good to be true. How could I have actually thought that the Dencourt Gallery was interested in me for my abilities? I have no experience, and clearly your mother thinks you’ve made a terrible mistake, and I’m almost inclined to agree.” Morgan mumbled to herself as she paced near the window and stared blindly at the buildings in the distance.

“Because it’s true, and I haven’t made a mistake, a voice said from behind her, but Morgan didn’t turn around.

“You’re a brilliantly gifted woman. I have seen your work and your passion for it. I knew the moment I met you that you were everything I—this gallery—needed.”

Morgan finally turned around and looked at Lee. “How could you possibly know that? You knew me for two days. Two ridiculous days!” She was getting angry and did little to control the volume of her voice.

“Morgan, those two days were wonderful. I’m so sorry for what I did. There is no excuse for how I left things. I—”

“Is that what this is?” Morgan motioned around her. “Some kind of apology? It seems a little extravagant for slipping out of town without a word, even if it was on the most important night of my life.”

“Morgan, No—I mean I am apologizing. I am sorry. But I needed a curator, and you’re the best that I’ve ever met, and—”

“No, Lee, or Ainsley, or Ms. Dencourt—whatever. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I let myself believe that this was some miracle opportunity for me. My chance to finally prove myself to people…people like you.” Morgan made her way to the door.

“Morgan, please stop.” Lee did beg this time.

Morgan looked into Lee’s eyes and then quickly away. “Look, I just don’t think that this is going to work out, Ms. Dencourt. I’ll clear my things from the office and be on my way.” Morgan stepped quickly into the hall and toward her office.

“Shit…shit…shit.” Lee sprinted after her. Everything was unraveling faster than she had expected.

Morgan was gathering a few personal items into her briefcase when Lee came in.

“I understand you’re mad,” Lee said.

“Mad? Ha, you haven’t seen me mad. This is, well, honestly, this is embarrassment and humiliation, and it’s how I deal with it,” Morgan said as she closed her case and brushed past her.

Lee grabbed her arm, and Morgan felt a jolt of electricity run through her. Lee must have felt it too because she let go as if she had been burned.

“Don’t go, Morgan,” Lee said as she looked into Morgan’s eyes.

“Lee…” Morgan lost her words as she stared back at Lee.
Don’t get lost in those eyes, Morgan.
Morgan looked away, and searched the room for something, anything, else to look at.

“Have dinner with me. Give me a chance. If after you still don’t think this could work, then you can go.” Lee positioned herself directly in front of Morgan.

“Lee…I….” Morgan tried to decline.

“Please. Dinner. That’s it. We’ll talk.” Lee looked at her with a pleading gaze.

“Lee, I just don’t….” Morgan’s resolve was fading quickly against her inner struggle to maintain it. The look in Lee’s eyes could so easily have been mistaken for desire. That was the problem. She had to get away.

“Thank you!” Lee stated before Morgan could actually say no. “I should be out of my last meeting by five. Is that okay?”

“Five is fine. Actually, if you don’t mind, I’m going to take off. I need to get some things straight in my head, but I’ll meet you in the lobby at five.”

“Okay. I understand. Five, in the lobby,” Lee agreed hesitantly.

“Until then.” Morgan nodded and made her way to the elevator. She felt Lee watching her but she refused to look back.

Morgan paced through her apartment. What was she going to do? This was the job of a lifetime. She knew it was all too good to be true from the moment she got the call from Alex. She had told her mother it wasn’t cosmic destiny, and it turned out that couldn’t be truer. Why would Lee go through all this trouble to bring her here, give her a position, find her a luxury apartment, and pay for her moving expenses? It all just seemed so extravagant and overboard for an apology, and she was sure that Lee wouldn’t sacrifice the future of her gallery with such an irresponsible act. After all, the Dencourt already had someone fully capable of filling the position without going outside or out of their way.

Morgan was more than educated for this position. Granted, it should have taken her at least ten to fifteen years of progressive museum work in order to get there. She was top of her class at the Yale School of Art, and the only American intern at Ecole de Louvre. She also had three of the most prestigious mentors and references in the art world. She could do this job, and she wanted this job more than anything she’d ever wanted in her life. Except for those two days in Paris when she found herself wanting nothing more than to hold and be held by Lee.

“Damn you, Ainsley Dencourt!”

The problem was that Morgan didn’t know now what or who she wanted more. If she quit, she’d not only be giving up the job, but she would also be giving up Lee. But if she kept the job, would she be doing it for the opportunities it held or because she couldn’t let herself walk out of Lee’s life? She needed to talk to someone. Dr. Melbeau was not an option, and her mother would only offer a supportive ear. She needed rational.

“I need to call Freddy.”

*

Lee sat in her office with her head in her hands. Honestly, she wasn’t sure that Morgan would even return. Lee had fought against every urge to grab her and hold on for fear that she would never see her again. Although it went as roughly as she had expected, part of her had hoped Morgan would be overjoyed to see her and thank her profusely for the opportunity. Lee knew Morgan had once thought of her as a spoiled rich kid gliding through life and school on name and money. Once upon a time that had been entirely true, but was now any different? Lee had manipulated Morgan into taking this position, but why? Why had she gone above and beyond to ensure that she offered an opportunity that no reasonable person would refuse? Lee had walked out on her, yes.

But they’d only really known each other a day, and it wasn’t like Lee owed her such an extravagantly devised apology. Lee knew what her gallery needed in order to progress, and when she needed to find a curator, she could think of only one person that she wanted to fill the spot. It was a risky decision and one she knew she would hear about for the next six months, if Morgan stayed. Lee needed to convince her to stay, and she had only a few hours to do it.

“Alex!” Lee yelled instead of using the intercom.

Alex arrived within a second, flinging the door open without a knock. “Oh my God, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

Lee looked up at Alex’s concerned face and laughed. “You look like someone just terrified you.”

“Uhh…someone just did! Why are you screaming?”

Lee chuckled. “Sorry. That was a little out of character.” Lee saw the panic in Alex’s face. Alex had worked at the gallery long enough to know that the Dencourts liked things rigid, organized, and predictable. This situation wasn’t any of those things, and the problem was that Lee was enjoying it.