Page 106 of Tears of Ink

“Hi Damien, it’s Faith Hitchin. I was calling to see if you’d managed to move any of my pieces?”

“Oh Faith, so thrilled you called.” Damien’s voice is high and rings like he’s singing.

“Really, why?”

“We need more sculptures from you.”

“More? But I gave you five.”

He squeals a little and his hands reverberate in a clap in the background. “I know. We sold all of them about two months ago. I did put a call in to Gerard Steers, but he obviously didn’t pass the message on.”

“No, he didn’t.” Why the hell hadn’t he told me? Two months ago? Then I would never have taken this job. I could have escaped the painful drama that’s unfolded around me.

But then I wouldn’t have met Eli… My chest squeezes again, and it hurts more than I can bear.

“Okay.” I scrabble around in my head to try to think clearly. I can’t believe they’ve sold them. Not to undermine my own work, it’s totally kick ass, but Whitlocks are well known—they have a huge clientele, all who know what they want.

Would someone want my work over the others? Wow.

“I’m doing an installation at Bowsley Hall. I won’t be able to get anything to you by the end of the summer. Hopefully, they might be able to let me sell some of this on after it’s finished.”

“That’s a great idea. It would be fantastic publicity for us and them.”

His response causes me to pause for thought. “You know Bowsley Hall?”

“Yes, of course, the Faircloughs.”

Was there anywhere the influence of this family didn’t reach?

Then I remember back at The Ritz, the first day I met Elijah when he looked like he’d fallen off the cover of GQ Magazine in his navy suit, but had a major stick stuck up his arse. ‘Yes, I’ve bought a few bits from there’.

“Would you like to come to the summer ball? You could see the exhibitions and hopefully if you like them make first bid for them?”

“What a wonderful idea. I’ll get Elena and Frances to ring Bowsley and express our interest.”

I pause and take a deep breath. “So, you want more then?”

“Darling, yes, of course. Frances wants to talk to you about an exhibition here at the gallery, maybe when you’ve finished swanning around with one of the richest families in the country you will come by, so we can talk?”

One of the what?

My hands shake holding the phone and I mutter a distracted goodbye, telling Damien I’ll hopefully see him at the ball.

No one told me they were the richest family in the country? What, richer than the bloody Queen? Seriously, that can’t be right?

Does it matter?

One thing is making more and more sense by the minute. I can totally understand why Jennifer forced Eli and I apart. Him and I, things like that just aren’t meant to be outside the pages of a fairy tale.

And I know why he said it could never be anything, and why he was able to walk away like it was nothing.

But then what about what Abi said?

What about the fact I can’t stop thinking about him, and it hurts so bad I don’t know what to do with myself?

What about the fact I’ve broken my one true rule and now it cuts so deep I no longer want to breathe, because I know what Elijah did in that hotel room in Brighton. He made me love him.

Tears burn my eyes just as my phone vibrates right on time.