Leading Us

8. The opening

Chapter Eight: The Opening

The night of Maya’s exhibition opening arrived faster than she could have anticipated. The weeks leading up to it had been a blur of preparations, meetings with Elena, and long hours in her studio as she put the finishing touches on her work. The pressure was immense, but Maya pushed through, determined to make the exhibition a success.

Now, as she stood in the middle of the gallery, surrounded by her paintings and the murmur of an expectant crowd, Maya felt a mix of pride and anxiety. This was the culmination of everything she had worked for, but it was also a moment of vulnerability—her art, her heart, laid bare for all to see.

The gallery was buzzing with excitement. People from all walks of life—art collectors, critics, fellow artists, and socialites—milled about, admiring the pieces on display. Maya’s series was the centerpiece of the evening, and the response so far had been overwhelmingly positive. Compliments flowed freely, and several potential buyers had already expressed interest.

But despite the success, Maya couldn’t fully relax. Her nerves were on edge, heightened by the anticipation of seeing Adrian. She hadn’t heard from him since the night at Isabelle’s estate, but Elena had mentioned that he planned to attend the opening. The thought of facing him again, in such a public setting, made her stomach twist with anxiety and something else—something she wasn’t ready to name.

“Maya, darling!” Isabelle’s voice cut through the crowd, drawing Maya’s attention. The art dealer appeared at her side, elegant as ever in a sleek black dress. “You’ve truly outdone yourself. The gallery looks magnificent.”

“Thank you, Isabelle,” Maya replied, forcing a smile. “I couldn’t have done it without your support.”

“Nonsense,” Isabelle said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Your talent speaks for itself. I’m just here to help the world see it.”

Maya nodded, though she couldn’t shake the sense of unease that always accompanied Isabelle’s praise. There was a calculating edge to everything Isabelle did, a sense that she was always three steps ahead of everyone else. But tonight, Maya couldn’t afford to dwell on it. She had to focus on her guests, on making a good impression.

As Isabelle moved on to greet other attendees, Maya took a deep breath and scanned the room. The gallery was packed, and she could see familiar faces from past events, along with several new ones. But there was one face she was searching for, even though she wasn’t sure she was ready to see it.

And then, as if her thoughts had conjured him, she spotted Adrian.

He was standing near the entrance, engaged in conversation with a small group of people. He looked every bit as striking as she remembered—tall, broad-shouldered, with that air of confidence that seemed to draw people in. But it was his eyes that caught her, even from across the room. When they locked onto hers, the rest of the gallery seemed to fade away.

Maya’s breath hitched, and for a moment, she was frozen in place. The intensity of his gaze, the memory of their last encounter, flooded her senses. She knew she needed to focus on her exhibition, but the pull toward Adrian was undeniable.

As if sensing her hesitation, Adrian excused himself from the group and began making his way toward her. With every step he took, the tension in Maya’s chest tightened. She wanted to turn away, to find some excuse to avoid this confrontation, but her feet refused to move.

“Good evening, Maya,” Adrian said as he reached her, his voice low and smooth.

“Adrian,” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady. “I’m glad you could make it.”