Chapter 3

Tara's POV

"You look stunning tonight." Gordon's voice was low, rough, stripped of any pretense.

"Stop it. There are people right outside." Mandy laughed and pushed him back. "What if Tara sees us?"

"So what if she does?" He let out a quiet laugh and pressed her against the door. "She's just a sweet little preschool teacher. What does she know about any of this? This whole gallery night is just a toy to keep her happy. You're the one who stands beside me when it actually counts."

The sound of fabric shifting in the silence of the corridor felt unbearably loud.

I stood outside that door, my nails cutting into my palms, leaving marks in the skin.

A sweet little preschool teacher.

So that was all I was to him. My work, the things I loved, the person I was. Nothing more than a pet he kept around for amusement.

I breathed in slowly, turned away from the door, and walked back into the gallery.

The closing event of the evening was a charity auction.

The final item was a painting called Starry Night, made by one of my students, a little boy on the autism spectrum. He had worked on it for a full month. I had been planning to buy it myself and give it back to him as a gift, a way of telling him how proud I was.

Opening bid: a hundred thousand dollars.

I raised my paddle. "Five hundred thousand."

The moment the words left my mouth, a clear voice rang out from the front row. "One million."

I turned. The paddle belonged to Mandy.

She looked back at me over her shoulder, a small, deliberate smile on her face.

I kept my expression neutral and raised my paddle again. "Two million."

"Three million." Mandy didn't flinch.

The room had begun to murmur. The atmosphere shifted into something uneasy.

I was about to raise my paddle again when a warm hand closed around my wrist.

Gordon had reappeared at my side. He leaned in close and spoke quietly. "Let it go, sweetheart. It's just a kid's drawing. It's not worth this."

I looked at him steadily. "It's my student's painting. It means a great deal to me."

I pulled my wrist free and started to lift the paddle. Gordon reached past me and signaled the auctioneer directly.

"Three million. Put it on my account."

The room erupted.

In front of everyone in attendance, he had outbid his own partner on a painting she wanted, and handed it to another woman.

Mandy walked to the stage, accepted the painting, and smiled with complete satisfaction. "Thank you for your generosity. I'll hang it in my office, a daily reminder of the importance of giving back."

I sat in the audience and watched the two of them on that stage. My stomach turned.

Gordon looked back at me. His voice was gentle but carried an edge that left no room for argument. "Mandy's been running a charity campaign that needed a centerpiece. That painting is perfect for it. If you want something like that, I'll have the boy paint ten more for you tomorrow."

I looked at the complete reasonableness on his face and let out a small laugh. "Sure."

I didn't argue. I gave him a quiet smile instead.

After the auction ended, Gordon reached for my hand. I moved away before he could take it.

"I'm tired. I want to head home." I walked to my car without looking back.

The following morning, the preschool's official social media account was flooded with hostile comments and coordinated attacks.

Mandy had posted a photo of Starry Night on Instagram with the caption: "Sometimes what looks like generosity is really just a performance. Some people will compete with those who are genuinely doing good just to keep up appearances."

The replies were vicious, calling me manipulative, a bully hiding behind a charitable image. Some users had dug up the school's address and were threatening to show up in person.

Our director was beside herself, begging me to find a way to make it stop.

I called Gordon.

"Have you seen what's happening online?" I asked, keeping my voice level.

He sounded drained on the other end. "Tara, she just posted something on a whim. She wasn't targeting you. People are reading too much into it."

"So what do you think I should do?"

"Post a statement on the school account. Apologize. Say it was a misunderstanding at the auction. I'll get the content taken down."

The anger that hit me was almost funny. "You want me to apologize?"