Page 43 of In the Frame

“May I see your paintings at some point?”

I stare at him as if he’s asked me round to his home on the moon or who knows what. “You want to see my paintings?”

“Yes. I would.”

My instant reaction is a grimace. A rising dread. I shake my head, sliding my hands into my pockets after setting my wineglass down. “I don’t know. We’ll see.”

“What? Aren’t they good paintings?” Florian frowns, looking concerned, and oblivious to the fact that he’s carved open an old wound in my chest. Me and Imposter Syndrome are best friends. “I assume they’re good paintings⁠—”

Coughing for a double diversion, my eyes tear slightly. “They’re fine. Not like Sotheby’s. Also, I don’t know if seeing my art counts as fake boyfriending behavior in the rules. And—let’s get some water.”

At last, Florian takes the pointed hint, and we descend the mezzanine into the heart of the party on the main floor with a couple of hundred of Caden’s and Paul’s family and friends. The room is moodily lit for maximum drama, people dancing at one end of the hall on the packed dance floor. Others sit at the long tables that run through much of the hall. There’re people loitering at the bar, and we join a queue for water.

And then, once watered, before I lose my nerve, I turn to Florian. “Wanna dance?”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Florian, it turns out, is a great dancer. Which is something I didn’t expect. But he’s more relaxed now. I can’t say I’m a brilliant dancer, but I definitely have enthusiasm on my side and my friends around me. And, well, Florian. We’ve both ditched our suit jackets and rolled up our sleeves, and we’re having a great time on the dance floor. His expression’s eased, and he actually looks like he’s having fun.

When we finally stop for more water, we meet Noah and Raheem at the bar, and I make introductions all around.

“Florian, these are my friends Noah and Raheem from uni. Florian’s my date for the night,” I explain. They already looked intrigued when they spotted us approaching, and they’d probably talked to Paul or Caden or both. At dinner, they were further down the long table, and though I caught Noah looking curiously at us, he was too far away to talk to.

“Great to meet you,” Raheem says smoothly, all charm as he shakes Florian’s hand. Noah follows suit.

“The pleasure is mine. I’m glad to meet Matty’s friends tonight and celebrate Paul and Caden.” Florian’s just as smooth.

By some miracle, I keep from looking surprised, even though I am. He’s definitely putting up a great fake-boyfriend effort. He sounds genuine. First my art, now my friends. Heady stuff, but it’s not real. We have a deal, after all, and he’s following through on our plan.

Noah looks amused. “Having fun?” he asks us.

I grin and nod. “Yeah, totally. It’s great to see everyone again. And for Paul and Caden, of course.”

“Well, we’re glad to see you, especially after your life in the big city,” Noah says. He can’t quite keep the open curiosity from his face as he studies Florian. “And it’s the first time we’ve met any of Matty’s London friends.”

“It’s the first time I’ve met any of Matty’s Brighton friends,” Florian acknowledges in kind. I’m starting to feel like I’m the topic of too much scrutiny.

“Let’s not make this weird, guys,” I say lightly, slipping my hand into Florian’s. His fingers tighten around mine. A shiver ripples up my spine at his touch.

“Just a little weird, please?” Noah teases me. “It’s been too long. Matty’s been very mysterious about what he’s been up to in London since he left Brighton.”

“Nothing too exciting other than trying to get myself set up in London. It’s harder than I thought it would be,” I confess. “But I have a job at a bar, at least, so that’s something.”

“What have you been painting?” Raheem asks curiously. “With all those London galleries, you must have so much inspiration. And a chance to get to know people.”

I cough, glancing away. “I haven’t been painting yet. I’ve been busy.”

Florian squeezes my hand again and comes to my rescue. “Matty went with me to an art auction, where he gave me excellent insights into the art.”

“I swear you could have found out the same stuff in the catalogue,” I protest, but I can’t help but smile at Florian. And it’s true he’s been involved in the first real art thing I’ve done in London.

“It’s not the same.” Florian shakes his head, also smiling. His gaze catches mine, and my face warms ever so slightly under his attention. The way he looks at me right now is as if I’m the only other person in the room with him. Like I’m special. Noteworthy.

I make myself look away, drawing in a slow breath before I recover. “Yeah, I’m moonlighting as an art consultant now,” I quip.

“Not bad work if you can get it,” Noah agrees, nodding. “That’s really great.”

“And you’re both artists too?” Florian asks.