twenty years old and in their first managerial role ever. They were a bit of an anomaly here, even more so than Noah. Noah had liked them from the moment he first met them.
“Hey, Noah.” From the way they said it, Noah knew they had a request.
“Hey. Join the line of requests,” Noah teased, sitting up straight and gesturing for them to sit down.
“Actually, wanna come to the restaurant? I'll treat you to a drink and supper while I proposition you,” Jay teased.
Noah laughed. The restaurant sometimes displayed art that the gallery had to sell after local exhibitions. It was a friendly working relationship, and he liked the sound of food and drink. “Sounds fair.” It didn't take long for him to shut down his computer and close up his office.
“How's that hockey... league... going, then?”
“Oh, Jesus, I thought you were gonna ask about the hockey exhibit,” Noah admitted in an undertone. Jay laughed. “The league's good, I think. Haven't had much time to think about it lately.”
“I won't ask about the exhibit,” Jay teased. “I saw both the ads in the paper. Nicely done.”
Noah raised his eyebrow. “Did they run them next to each other?”
“You didn't buy a copy of the paper?”
“Oh, I was a bit jaded,” Noah admitted. “I figured they'd make it sound boring.”
“Come prepared to discuss symbolism at seven-thirty?” Jay grinned. “Yeah, that does sound a bit boring. Nah, both the write-ups were pretty good.”
Noah ordered his usual without even thinking about it as they reached the restaurant bar. “So,” Noah said, straightening up and turning on his stool once he had his cherry cocktail. “Hit me with it.”
“We're planning this... charity event.”
A smile tugged at Noah's lips. “Uh huh?”
“We've already got someone running it, don't worry. One of my good friends is the manager. But we need someone to help us source art and liaise with local artists. Since I took over, I haven't been in touch with a lot of the older painters. I only know the hip young zine-makers...”
Noah nodded. “Are we talking donations?”
“Maybe. We have a small budget. We're splitting the proceeds – a token artist's fee for each painting sold, with most of the proceeds to charity.”
“They'll donate all the profits,” Noah told Jay with a shake of his head, sipping his drink. “That's not a problem. If the charity's good.”
“A new local homelessness initiative. We're fundraising over the summer, hoping to get a fund accumulated before the winter. Last winter was...”
“Nasty,” Noah agreed, the corners of his lips falling. That had been a rough winter. “That's a good idea. It's a proper charity? Registered?”
“Yes.”
“Then that shouldn't be a problem. We can do tax rebates, but even without that, they'll do it for good exposure. It has to be good, though. A brochure with links to everyone's website and portfolio is a start.”
“Does that help a lot?”
“Oh, yeah. Our statistics tell us sixty percent of art buyers we track end up buying more artwork in that style. Twenty percent look for that artist again.”
Jay blinked a few times. “Oh. That's – that's precise.”
Noah grinned as his food arrived. “It's my job.” As he ate, he delved into the details, making sure Jay had a good idea what to expect from the exhibition.
By the time he was on his way home, Noah's heart was light. In the five months since moving here, he hadn't felt like he'd made many friends who appreciated who he was. The hockey guys were great, but so straight. Jay had always been friendly, though. With the possibility of dating Cameron, things were looking up.
Even the light misty rain couldn't dampen Noah's spirits. He threw back his hood to let it cool his face as he strode home to cook supper for himself.
Chapter 13
Cameron
“Hello? Is this Cameron Riley?”
From the moment Cameron answered his cellphone, he was suspicious. The man's voice sounded even and crisp, just
Sharon Kleve, Jennifer Conner, Danica Winters, Casey Dawes