Audrey stirred the hot chocolate with absorbed attention as though searching for life’s meaning in its mocha froth.
The presentation had gone over very well, Bruce had said with what seemed to be genuine appreciation, indicating that the investors were happy with the galleries’ profit margins. Once, she would have been buoyed by the praise, but not now. Once the production of exhibitions would have satisfied her creativity—she was good at it, there was no doubt—but increasingly, she came to realise that, in the end, she was merely an administrator of other people’s creativity. She was great at enabling their dreams, but not her own. The bigger problem was, she didn’t even know what her dreams were.
There had been a moment, a pause when the investors were discussing aspects of the new pro
