Page 62 of Flirting with Forever

Anastasia shuffled through files on the table, slipped on a bright red pair of half-moon glasses, gave her sister a look suggesting that despite the amateurishness of Cam’s prework, she had been able to create a silk purse out of a sow’s canvas and deliver an actual seventeenth-century masterpiece to the collection. “I did manage to get both buttoned down, which was a relief, for there were a number of egregious holes in the history.”

Cam rolled her eyes. Anastasia made it sound as if Cam had found it at a garage sale and was trying to sell it herself for beer money. “Yes, I’m certain the Hermitage has a number of performance areas on which they need to be working. I hope the entry in Catherine the Great’s diary sufficed.”

The side of Packard’s mouth rose. “Perfect. Ball wants to sign the papers the night of the gala.”

Anastasia refolded her glasses and snapped them into a Chanel case. “If you have anything you’d like for me to tell him, let me know. I’ll be seeing him tonight.”

Cam made a private growl and was grateful she did not have easy access to a rolled-up broadsheet. One of the disadvantages of having every evening full was losing the ability to cultivate your favorite donors.

Packard rose. “Cam, can you hang back for a minute?”

Jeanne gave her a look, pushed the coffee cup in her direction, and exited with the rest of the team.

“What’s up?” Cam said.

Packard was filing papers into his briefcase. “I just wanted to tell you the board is very pleased. The painting, of course, is a feather in your hat, though to be fair, that is the sort of thing they’d expect any curator to do. But your book is actually of more interest than I would have expected.”

“Really?”

“Of course, the academic books will always look good on a CV. There’s no denying that, but there are a few board members who have been talking about the value of the PR, and that’s something one doesn’t see with an academic book. Will you be able to do the interviews and signings, that kind of thing?”

“Absolutely.” In fact, her editor had been very excited and just last week had slipped a story in Publishers Weekly—“Art historian Campbell Stratford will turn the art world on its ear with her upcoming ‘fictography,’ The Girl with a Coral Earring”—that mentioned the museum and her position there.

“Good. Keep it up. Keep it positive. Keep getting the word out about the Carnegie. Can I tell them that’s part of your plan?”

“Sure. Definitely.”

Packard shut the case and paused. “What about Jacket?”

Cam shuffled a little. Being connected with an artist had always been a tad uncomfortable when it came to museum politics. Jacket had been willing to help whenever he could, but it would be unethical, unfair to him, and just plain weird for her to promise that he’d do anything. “What do you mean?”

“He’s back, yes?”

“You should know. You invited him.”

Packard laughed. “Yes, he was kind enough to do a piece for the show. But I think it would be in your best interest for me to let the board know if Jacket is going to be a permanent addition to Pittsburgh.”

Well, the question was about as opaque as he could have made it. Nonetheless Cam felt her cheeks grow warm.

“Yeah, um, we’re exploring the topic.”

“I apologize. I know the topic’s uncomfortable. Hell, it’s uncomfortable for me to ask. But if you happen to come to a decision in the two weeks before the next board meeting, please let me know. It’ll help.”

“Ugh.”

“I know, I know. What can I say? That’s how the world works. On a personal note, however, may I add that I’d love to see you happy.”

“I’m noticing you’re not saying, ‘I’d love to see you with Jacket.’”

“I’m the father of four daughters. I would never presume.”

Now Cam laughed. “Thanks, Lamont.” She spotted Jeanne at the door, pointing at her and miming a telephone. “I gotta run. I’ve got a call.”

“Tell Jacket I appreciate the help.”

Cam hurried to the hall.

“It’s your agent,” Jeanne said. “She says it’s important.”