The Gallery_A Reverse Harem Romance

by Mika Lane

  Damn if that Crane guy wasn’t a huge dickhead. Seriously, who comes to a meeting to drum up new business when they’re under investigation by the D.A. and brings their new girlfriend, particularly when he’s only left his wife days before?

  Who fucking does that?

  Sumner clapped me on the back, snapping me out of my reverie. “You look lost in thought, brother.”

  I stretched my neck and rolled my shoulders. “Si. It’s been a strange day. You know that financier, Devon Crane, from our meeting today? Had the nerve to refer to the wife he’d left just a week ago as a ‘nutbag’.”

  “The world is full of people who are not very simpatico. I think you know that as well as anyone,” Sumner said.

  I loved it when my friends used the Italian words I was always trying to teach them.

  And yup, I did know as well as anyone about the creeps of the world. All I had to do was take a look at my arms-dealer father and how he’d thought nothing of putting our entire family in danger.

  And I was curious to know if that woman we’d seen at the Hampton’s party really was as nutty as her husband said.

  If Crane was as full of shit as I knew he was, he was the nut for leaving her.

  Chapter 7

  AVRIL

  At four fifty-five p.m., I locked the gallery door, placed the be right back sign in the window, and returned to my office. At exactly five p.m., the phone rang.

  “Devon,” I said, stomach churning.

  “Av,” he replied.

  I was swirling in a volcano of emotions, ratcheting back and forth between sadness, humiliation, and downright hatred. I moved my office trashcan between my legs in case I needed to vomit.

  I forced myself to remain calm and cool. He wasn’t going to get the satisfaction of my freaking out.

  “I was glad to get your email. Thank you for suggesting we speak,” I said.

  “I figured it was about time. You know I’m with Dagney now, don’t you?”

  A knife in my chest would have been less painful.

  I held my chin high, even though nobody could see it. “I know that. I figured it out, Devon.”

  “Oh. I wasn’t sure you knew.”

  “Yup. I know,” I said simply.

  If he was waiting for me to yell at him, he would be waiting a long time.

  “Devon?” I asked.

  “Yes, Avril?”

  “Is there a reason you cut off the credit cards and emptied our joint bank accounts? I mean, do you think that’s fair, after you left me with no warning?” Okay, now my blood was starting to boil. I flicked on my laptop and looked at pictures of kittens.

  “Well, Av, don’t you think it’s time you started…you know, supporting yourself?”

  Stay calm. “If that’s your feeling, we could have talked about it. There might have been better ways to communicate that than just cutting me off without warning.”

  “You’re right. You’re right. It’s just that all the guys I know said to be careful, and that when you got the news, you’d try to clean me out.”

  “Glad to know your guy friends, who were probably also my friends at one time, advised you to leave me penniless,” I said.

  “Oh, come on, Avril, it’s not like that—”

  “It is exactly like that, Devon. The minute you turned your back on me, most of our friends did, too. And you know why that is?” I was getting pissed now.

  “Um…well…I didn’t know that—”

  “It’s because you have the money, Devon. Plain and simple. It’s not because they like you better. They like your money better.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that…look, you’re going to have to get a real job. No more fun at the gallery.”

  He did not just say that, did he?

  “Devon, we were married three years. We were in love. At least, I loved you. And now this. I don’t understand it. The courts are going to demand that you pay me, so why don’t you start now?”

  “There! I knew you were a gold digger,” he said. “And the limo is going away. You’re going to have to start taking the subway. Or even driving. Get a car.” This made him cackle.

  And he knew that one particular threat would hurt me like no other.

  “Devon, I can’t believe you would bring that up…”

  “Oh, really? Well, let me tell you something. You haven’t gotten behind the wheel of a car since your sister—”

  A buzzing sounded in my ears, increasing in volume. It was accompanied by white dots in front of my eyes.

  “—but I think it’s high time you got over that and started driving again.”

  I’d never heard his voice so cruel.

  Oh, god. He hit the one spot in my heart that crippled me. My hand shook so violently that when I went to swipe my phone closed, it flipped out of my hand and skittered across the desk and onto the floor.

  The buzzing and white lights exploded in my head, and I grabbed my office trashcan just in time to be sick. My shoulders shook from convulsions, following by a heaving in my chest. The sobs came again, and this time, it seemed like they’d never stop.

  I lifted my head toward a rattling at the gallery’s front door and pushed myself up from my chair. I lumbered across the room like I’d been run over by a truck.

  “Av, let me in!” Blu’s muffled voice shouted.

  I unlocked the door, and he slipped inside, locking it behind himself.

  “Baby, I’m so glad you called me.” He grabbed my arms and led me back to the office.

  I was no longer crying, but I couldn’t stop shaking.

  “Are you cold, sweetie? Here, put this shawl around your shoulders. I’m gonna make some tea. You want some tea?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So what happened?” he asked, after he’d put the kettle on.

  Thank god for gay boyfriends. I already felt tons better just having him there. And his turquoise bow tie was just perfect with his red hair.

  “Well, it was the first time we’d spoken since he left. He brought up my sister, just to be mean. Threw it all right in my face.”

  “Oh, that bastard! I’m so sorry.” He was one of the few who knew the story of Lisette.

  I sipped my tea.

  “I know. It just threw me for a loop. Especially the way he said it. It was so vicious. Actually, beyond vicious. I had no idea I was married to such a brutal man. God, I feel so stupid.”

  “You know, sweetie, people surprise me every day.” Blu waved a hand in the air. “That’s all I can say. Now, how ‘bout we get you up and get a little dinner in your belly?”

  “Thank god I have you, Blu.”

  “Don’t thank me. I’m sure I’ll be crying on your shoulder one of these days, myself.” He bundled me into my light Fall coat, and we walked under the streetlights to the little Italian joint on the corner.

  Three glasses of wine and a giant plate of pasta later, and I was feeling much better. What a fool I’d been, avoiding carbs all that time.

  Blu leaned across the table. “I may have a solution to your financial situation. At least temporarily. It could help you with your cash flow.”

  My heart jumped. If I had to give up the gallery along with my marriage, well, that would be way more than I could take.

  “Seriously? What are you thinking?”

  You never knew what Blu had up his sleeve. He was a wheeler and dealer of epic proportions.

  “So.” He lowered his voice and glanced around. “You know how I’m involved with party promotions?”

  “Yeah. What about it?” I took huge mouthful of pasta. I didn’t usually take huge mouthfuls of anything, but after that day, I felt entitled.

  I’d watched my weight so carefully over the years, I’d forgotten what pasta even tasted like. Fuck those skinny, Birkin-carrying bitches. Pasta was good.

  “The parties I promote are sex parties, Av.” He stared at me like he was waiting for my head to explode.

  I shrugged “I thought it was something like that. You
know, part of your gay secret life you never tell me about.”

  “You kidding?” he said with a huff. “All along, you thought I was up to something…shall we say unconventional…and you never said anything?”

  Was he offended I’d not called him out? I figured he’d tell me if and when he wanted to.

  “I respect your privacy, Blu. Didn’t want to pry. I know the gay community has a different way of mixing and mingling.”

  Did I just say that? He had a funny look on his face. One I’d not seen before.

  “Yeah, well, the parties I’m talking about are a bit different than what you thought.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  Not sure I wanted to hear about them, but on the other hand, I was morbidly curious.

  “They’re not the gay parties you think they are.”

  Oh. “What are they then? I mean, are you into kiddie porn? Please say no, Blu.”

  “Av! Give me a fucking break. That’s gross. The parties are not gay. They’re straight.”

  I laughed. “What are you doing at a straight sex party, for god’s sake?”

  “I organize them. I don’t have sex at them. I have a team of guys I work with, and we host them for the city’s elite. Very exclusive. Very expensive.”

  “Why aren’t you running gay parties?” I asked.

  “You’re still stuck on that?” He rolled his eyes. “Because there are tons of gay sex parties. The money is in the straight parties. There aren’t as many of them, and the really nice ones are hard to come by. And we can charge a shitload for them.”

  Geez. A whole world out there I was unaware of.

  “Okay. So how does this involve me and my pathetic money situation?”

  “Well, Av,” he said. “What would you say to using the gallery for a party or two? We’re needing a new location. It could be very lucrative for you.”

  The waiter brought two tiramisu. One for each of us. My days of having one little bite of someone else’s dessert were over.

  “Oh, c’mon. I can’t have a sex party at my gallery,” I laughed. God, that was some good tiramisu. It was all I could do to not moan out loud.

  “No? Why not?” he asked. “The place sits empty six nights out of the week. Or more.”

  “What if something gets damaged?”

  “It’s a sex party, not a keg party. We have security, and anyone who gets out of hand is sent on their way. And we have a cleaning crew come in afterwards. They put all our furniture back in storage until the next party.”

  He was serious. Unbelievable.

  “What do you mean, furniture?”

  “Well, what do you think the people fuck on? The cold, hard floor?” He rolled his eyes so hard, I wondered how they didn’t pop out of his head.

  He could be awfully touchy.

  “Well, I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it. I mean, do you bring in a dozen beds or something? How would I know what people fuck on at sex parties?” Now I was getting pissy.

  A few heads turned our way. Shit.

  He rolled his eyes again. Apparently, he’d had no idea that I, his best friend, was such a total dumbass. He sighed deeply, pushed to the brink of his patience.

  He spoke very slowly and quietly, as if lecturing a naughty little kid. “We bring in cushy sofas and tufted mattresses. The finished look is kind of bohemian and harem-ish, with floaty fabrics, rugs, sumptuous materials, giant floor cushions. That sort of thing.”

  I guess if I were going to a sex party, I’d want it to be kind of nice.

  Now, it was my turn to lower my voice. “And are people just having sex…everywhere? Like a giant orgy?” While it all sounded awfully bizarre, thinking about it left me... Well, never mind. I didn’t need to be thinking of things like that when I’d probably never be having sex again.

  “No! People come in with partners, or women come alone—men can’t come in by themselves, they must have a date—some people keep to themselves, and some hook up with others. It’s really whatever you want, so long as it’s all consensual.”

  “Can you just hang out and watch?” I had to admit, and maybe it was from the wine I’d just drunk, that something about having sex in public sounded kind of hot.

  Blu called the waiter over and ordered after-dinner drinks. I’d have to fast for days after this meal to fit into my wardrobe. The skinny bitches in Pilates called them their hungry days. Like a wrestling team, they’d starve themselves until they made weight.

  “Yeah, you can watch as long as you’re not creepy about it. Anyway, what do you say? You could make a lot of money letting us use your space.” His face lit up in with a hopeful smile, revealing the gap between his teeth that I loved so much. That, coupled with his red hair and freckles, gave him a deceptively innocent air. Especially now that I knew he ran freaking sex clubs.

  And that he wanted to hold them in my gallery.

  I’d do anything for Blu. I really would. But a sex party? In my art gallery?

  “Yeah, I don’t think so. I can’t risk it.” I took one more bite of my dessert and put my fork down. I had to stop. I scooted my plate toward Blu. He’d finished his own, already.

  “Shit, Av, did it occur to you that this might bring you some new art collectors? I’m serious, our vetting process eliminates all but the city’s highest rollers. These people buy art. Lots of it, for lots of money.”

  Um, no, I had not considered that.

  How stupid was I?

  He continued his sales pitch. “See? This could be beneficial to you in more than one way.” He pushed my tiramisu back toward me, and handed me my fork, as if that would sway my decision.

  My resolve was melting, dammit.

  “Do you think I could maybe check out one of the parties? Just to see what they’re like?” I mean, what was the harm?

  He slammed his hand on the table. “Now you’re talking, baby. I’ll take you to one.”

  My mind immediately flew to the all-important question of what I would wear. Normally, I’d feel free to go out shopping, but with Devon cutting me off, well it looked like I’d be making do with what was currently hanging in my closet. I actually might not be able to shop for a while, when I stopped and thought about it.

  So I pushed the tiramisu back to Blu. I wasn’t taking any chances on my clothes not fitting. At least until I knew I could shop again.

  I leaned toward him with my hands folded under my chin. “Tell me more.”

  Chapter 8

  ASH

  Another drag-ass day at the office. The previous night’s party had come off without a hitch, and I’d stayed out way too late. The cute blonde waitress from the Hamptons party had come, and boy, was she hot. When she got a load of how sexy the club vibe was, she could hardly keep her hands off us guys. The place did that to some women. It was like something in them became unleashed—what, I don’t really know, but I sure liked being the lucky beneficiary.

  I’d just downed another cup of crappy office coffee, and now, my heart was racing. My doctor had told me to stay away from the stuff, but like most people, I’d never get through a day without it.

  Sumner and Smith barged into my office.

  “Hey, guys, thanks for knocking,” I said. Sumner towered over Smith, and with the height disparity between them, they looked like something out of a comic book.

  But Smith made up for his challenge in the height area with a big mouth. He burst out laughing. He could be an ass that way. “Dude, I live in hopes of catching you with some chick bent over your desk, or maybe just your pecker in your hand. That would be awesome.” He threw his head back and laughed some more.

  “Smith, I didn’t know you wanted to see my dick so badly. All you had to do was ask.” I stood and made like I was unzipping my pants.

  “Kidding, dude! Keep your pants on,” he said, the smile fading from his face.

  I settled back into my desk chair. “That’s what I thought. So what you guys up to, anyway? To what do I owe the pleasure of your bar
ging into my office unannounced?”

  “Damn, Ash, quit with the diva bullshit. You walk into our offices all the time,” Smith said.

  He was a fairly recent addition to the firm, and while there had been some reservations about him, he had a great track record. But he was also annoying as hell.

  “Yeah, but I knock first, jerkoff,” I said.

  Sumner interrupted our bickering. “All right. What are we going to do about Crane Enterprises?”

  Huh?

  “I hadn’t thought there was anything to do with them after Gio booted Devon Crane out of our offices,” I said.

  “Well, it seems he’s not quite done with us. He sent over a prospectus and has requested another meeting,” Smith explained.

  I leaned forward on my desk, speaking slowly and clearly. “Guys, he’s under investigation by the D.A.”

  Sumner threw his hands up. “C’mon, Ash. You know the D.A. is investigating people all the time. It doesn’t make him guilty.”

  “Fair enough. But Gio didn’t like the guy. Said he was a scumbag. For Christ’s sake, he kicked him out.”

  “Since when do emotions rule our decisions around here?” he asked, arms crossed.

  I sat back in my chair. “I know what you’re saying. I really do. But something about this guy feels bad.”

  “Okay. What do you say to a bit of analysis on the deal? And then we can discuss whether or not we like him,” he said with a nod toward Smith. Analysis was Smith’s specialty, and I had to hand it to him, he was damn good at it.

  “Yeah, whatever. Give it a shot,” I said.

  My cell rang and when I saw it was Blu, most likely calling about Kink Lab business.

  “Hey, Blu,” I said.

  “Hey, girl,” Blu said in his favorite I will convert you if it’s the last thing I do tone. “Good news. I may have found a solution to our location problem. I didn’t get to tell you about it last night because we were so busy.”

  “Yeah? What’s the solution?”

  “Well, my best friend, Avril Crane, has a fabulous gallery in Soho that she’s considering letting us use for Kink Lab.”