Kate James - A Priceless Find

She wasn’t his type. He wasn’t interested in a relationship, even if she was. And she wasn’t available, anyway.

He’d get a good night’s sleep and talk his theory through with Colin on Monday.

But try as he might, he couldn’t get Chelsea out of his thoughts.

CHAPTER FIVE

CHELSEA SAID GOODBYE to Sharon Robinson, the third-grade teacher at Camden Falls Public School, and the kids in her class for whom she’d conducted a tour of the gallery that morning. Chelsea loved kids and loved teaching them about art. Their insatiable curiosity and the way they saw everything so differently from adults never ceased to amaze and inspire her. She was always more than willing to organize and run the tours, but that didn’t mean the kids’ limitless energy didn’t take a lot out of her.

Still, when the time was right, she wanted to have kids. A number of them.

She’d have to work on her stamina, though, she decided.

Chelsea was glad the showroom was empty so she could have a well-earned lunch break. Deborah was off today, but Tina could keep an eye on things and Joel was due back from the Nightingale estate auction anytime now. Then he could attend to any walk-ins, although that wasn’t his favorite task.

Grabbing her sandwich, a bottle of water from the fridge in the lunchroom and one of the fashion magazines Tina habitually left on the counter, she sank down in a chair. She flipped the magazine open to a random page and had barely unwrapped her sandwich when she heard footsteps in the corridor. She glanced up to see Joel lean against the doorjamb. He’d crossed his legs at the ankles and tucked his left hand in his pants pocket.

It was his GQ look, as Chelsea used to think of it. She knew it to be contrived.

“How was the tour?” he asked.

Chelsea smiled. “Great kids. As entertaining as always.”

“Any damage?”

“Oh, Joel! Can’t you forget about that one isolated incident?” She didn’t bother to hide her irritation. “That incident was more than a year ago, and you make it sound as if it was malicious. The poor kid tripped on his shoelace and, thankfully, fell against a promotional banner rather than a display case or stand. There was no harm done. And to answer your question, no, there was no damage today.”

His glower persisted and caused her to look away.

“I’m sorry. That was unwarranted,” he finally conceded, drawing her gaze back to his. “The children’s program is important to my grandmother and therefore the gallery. You’ve always been terrific with the kids. And since you handle it, I don’t have to be involved. So, I’ll apologize again.”

“Apology accepted.” As far as Chelsea was concerned, the discussion was over. She finished unwrapping her sandwich, but she could feel Joel’s eyes on her and looked up again. The expression on his face was inscrutable and made her uncomfortable. Looking down, she took a bite of her sandwich.

“Chels, have dinner with me tonight.”

The invitation, unexpected and spoken so softly, had her glancing at him with astonishment. It reminded her of his odd behavior the evening of the exhibit and auction, and made her wonder what was going through his mind.

Joel was still leaning casually against the doorjamb, his blond hair tousled, a playful smile spread across his face. The dimple she’d once found so sexy flickered on his right cheek.

“C’mon, Chels,” he said when she hesitated. “For old times’ sake. What do you say?”

For a moment—just one moment—she was tempted to say yes. The boyish grin had always drawn her in and she hadn’t been on a date since...well, since she and Joel had stopped seeing each other. But then she thought about some of the reasons she’d broken it off with him.

At first, he’d made her feel special. But by the end of their relationship, she felt he’d lost interest in her. There always seemed to be other priorities, and she’d begun to feel like an obligation.

Chelsea considered herself relatively easygoing and flexible, but she couldn’t be in a relationship in which she wasn’t valued.

Remembering how it had been between them when they’d first started dating, she felt a twinge of sadness over what they’d lost, but was careful not to let it show. She didn’t want to inadvertently encourage him. “Sorry, Joel. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

He straightened. “Have it your way.”

She wasn’t sure if it was disappointment or anger that sparked in his eyes before he turned and stalked away.

Well, that was fun. She sighed. This was justification for why she tried to avoid workplace romances. If they didn’t work out—which in her experience was usually the case—it could be awkward. She thought back to the easy friendship she and Joel had shared before they began dating. She wished they could recapture it but suspected that was unlikely, at least in the short-term.

As much as she regretted how everything had turned out between them, she hoped again that her relationship with his grandmother would remain unaffected. Not only did she like Mrs. Sinclair, but ultimately it would be Mrs. Sinclair’s decision whether to give her the curator position once Mr. Hadley retired. Joel had made it clear that he wasn’t interested in running the gallery, so it was either promote her or Mrs. Sinclair would have to go outside the organization to hire someone.

Chelsea didn’t want to lose Mrs. Sinclair’s friendship—or the opportunity to be the next curator.

No dating people in the workplace ever again! she resolved as she took another large bite of her sandwich.

When Tina called her from the lunchroom doorway, she wondered if she’d ever get a chance to finish her lunch.

“Sorry to interrupt, but Mr. Anderson is here and would like to talk to you about the Babineux.”

Chelsea put her sandwich down and dabbed at her mouth with her napkin, careful not to smear her lipstick. “He didn’t have an appointment, did he?”

“No,” Tina assured her. “But as you know, he does most of his buying on the spur of the moment.”

“Yes, that’s true. Please tell him I’ll be out in a second.” Chelsea rewrapped the rest of her sandwich and stuck it back in the fridge. Looking in the mirror behind the door, she rubbed off a smudge of lipstick with her index finger.

Mr. Anderson was standing in front of the Babineux when she walked into the showroom. His back was to her, his head slightly tilted. He had a sparse frame, was shorter than average, and was impeccably dressed and groomed, as always. Chelsea had often thought that for the price of one of his elegant suits, she could’ve paid the rent on her apartment for at least a month.

“Mr. Anderson,” she said as she approached. “It’s nice to see you so soon.”

He spun around and smiled. “Chelsea, my dear, how are you?”

“I’m fine, thank you.” She glanced at the painting. “I thought it would be only a matter of time before the Babineux graced your walls. Is this the day you make it yours?” she asked.

“Yes, I think it might be. I hadn’t planned to stop in today, but I was in the area with a few minutes to spare.” He grinned and spread out his hands. “I couldn’t resist. I suppose it’s meant to be.”

“That’s what I thought, too! Shall I get the paperwork?”

He stroked his chin as he considered the painting. “Why not? Let’s do it!”

Chelsea felt like doing a fist pump, but knew it would be unseemly. The commission on the sale would cover a brake job and new tires for her car. Both were very close to becoming a necessity. “Please have a seat in the sales office. Would you like a cup of coffee? A glass of champagne, perhaps?”

“As delightful as champagne sounds, it’s too early in the day for me. Let’s make it a coffee, and we’ll both have a glass of champagne when I come to pick up the painting.”