Chapter 7 - Gossip & Jealousy
647 Words
By midweek, Ava could feel it - the subtle shift in the air around her at the restoration studio.
It wasn't just Martin's suddenly polite attentiveness, or the fact that her coworkers lingered longer in conversation than usual when she entered the room.
It was the eyes. The glances they thought she didn't notice. The curiosity sharpened with something more dangerous - envy.
She had learned long ago that the art world, for all its delicate strokes and gilded frames, had teeth. People smiled with their lips and calculated with their eyes.
***
The latest painting from Damien's collection sat before her on the easel, a tempestuous scene of a ship braving a violent storm. Ava lost herself in the patient, careful cleaning of the piece - at least until a voice came from the doorway.
"Must be nice," drawled Elise, one of the junior restorers, leaning against the frame.
Ava glanced up. "What must be nice?"
"That," Elise gestured toward the painting. "Getting an exclusive project from the Damien Cross himself. And him visiting you personally? Twice now, if I'm counting right."
Ava kept her expression neutral. "He's a client. Martin assigned me this job."
"Hmm," Elise smirked faintly, pushing away from the door. "Clients like him don't just 'assign' themselves. I'd watch out if I were you. The last girl who got close to him didn't exactly walk away unscathed."
The comment lingered after she left, like the sour aftertaste of bad wine.
***
By the afternoon, whispers began to prick at Ava's ears in the shared office. Her name, Damien's name, and words like *hotel*, *deal*, and *why her?* tangled in half-heard sentences.
It was a small network here - collectors, galleries, and the restorers who knew whose hands made or broke fortunes. If they even suspected something personal between her and Damien... it could ruin her credibility before she'd even built it.
She packed up quietly that evening, her mind buzzing with a hundred uncomfortable possibilities.
***
That night, her phone rang just as she was helping Lena with her evening tea. She stepped into the hallway to answer.
"Tell me," Damien's voice came low but amused, "why I'm hearing that the art scene's buzzing about us?"
She stiffened. "You're hearing it too?"
"Of course. Ravenhurst's society runs on gossip. And it seems certain people want to know why I'm so... invested in a young restorer I met at an auction."
Ava bristled. "You *are* invested. You hired me."
"I could hire anyone in the city," Damien's tone softened, "but I chose you. That's what's making them nervous - especially my competitors."
She could hear the faint clink of glass on his end, maybe pouring himself a drink.
"Does one of those competitors have dark hair, smug grin, and thinks he owns every room?" she asked, recalling a flash of a man she'd seen Damien with briefly at the auction.
Damien chuckled - a sound equal parts warning and amusement. "Ah. You mean Victor Moretti. He's been circling my business for years, looking for an opening. Don't let his charm fool you - he's a vulture."
Ava frowned. "And you think he's watching me now?"
"I *know* he is," Damien said. "And that means you need to be careful. People like Victor will use anything - or anyone - to get to me."
There it was again - the reality that their connection, whatever its nature, wasn't happening in a vacuum. Every eye in their world had begun turning towards her.
And not all of them were friendly.
***
After the call, Ava stood in the dim hallway, Lena's soft humming from the next room barely grounding her. She thought she had stepped into Damien's world for a single night - but Ravenhurst's undercurrents were pulling her deeper, and now there were sharks in the water.
The question was... who would strike first?
- Writer
