NOVEL NEXT Chapter 12: The Gallery Dream
Cora stood in the middle of her soon-to-be art gallery, a paintbrush in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. The space was coming together beautifully—exposed brick walls, polished hardwood floors, and large windows that flooded the room with natural light. It was everything she'd dreamed of, and yet…
"Miss Hayes?"
Cora turned to see a young man in a suit standing in the doorway, his expression polite but slightly condescending.
"Yes?" Cora said, setting her coffee cup down on a nearby table.
"I'm with the city's art council," the man said, stepping inside. "I'm here to inspect the space for your gallery opening."
Cora forced a smile, though her stomach was in knots. "Of course. Let me show you around."
As she led the man through the gallery, she could feel his eyes scanning the space, his expression unreadable.
"It's… unique," the man said finally, his tone carefully neutral.
Cora's smile faltered. "Unique?"
"Yes," the man said, nodding. "Very… eclectic."
Cora felt a flicker of frustration, but she quickly masked it with a polite smile. "Thank you. I wanted the space to reflect the art—bold, unconventional, and full of life."
The man nodded, though his expression was still skeptical. "And the artists you've chosen to feature… are they… established?"
Cora's jaw tightened. "They're incredibly talented. Some of them are just starting out, but their work speaks for itself."
The man raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "I see. Well, I'll be sure to include all of this in my report."
Cora forced another smile, though her hands were clenched into fists at her sides. "Thank you. I appreciate your time."
As the man left, Cora let out a long breath and collapsed onto a nearby stool.
"Jerk," she muttered, running a hand through her hair.
The rest of the day was a blur of meetings, phone calls, and endless paperwork. By the time Cora finally left the gallery, she was exhausted and frustrated.
As she walked home, her mind was racing. She'd poured her heart and soul into this gallery, but no one seemed to take her seriously. To them, she was just a billionaire's daughter playing at business.
"It's not fair," Cora muttered, kicking a pebble down the sidewalk.
But as she turned the corner and saw Jace's penthouse in the distance, she felt a flicker of determination. She wasn't going to let anyone—not the art council, not her family, not anyone—stand in her way.
That evening, Cora found herself lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. Her mind was racing, and she couldn't shake the frustration of the day.
"Get it together, Cora," she muttered, rolling over and burying her face in the pillow.
But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop thinking about the gallery, the art council, and the endless stream of people who didn't believe in her.
As she lay there, her thoughts drifted to Jace. He'd been so supportive, so understanding. Maybe… maybe she could talk to him about it.
Cora groaned and sat up, running a hand through her hair. This was bad. Really bad.
The next morning, Cora woke up feeling like she hadn't slept at all. She dragged herself out of bed and into the shower, trying to shake off the lingering frustration.
By the time she got dressed and made her way to the kitchen, Jace was already there, looking annoyingly put-together in a crisp suit and perfectly combed hair.
"Ready for the big day?" he asked, his tone dry.
Cora groaned and poured herself a cup of coffee. "Not even a little."
Jace chuckled and handed her a plate of toast. "Eat something. You're going to need your strength."
Cora took the toast and nibbled on it, her stomach in knots. "What if this goes horribly wrong?"
"It won't," Jace said, his tone firm. "We've got this."
Cora sighed and nodded, though she wasn't convinced.