Chapter 7: The Exhibition

Mira adjusted the framed photograph of Hayden's phoenix for the third time. The lighting in the gallery hit it perfectly now, highlighting the vibrant colors against his skin. She stepped back, admiring her work among the other pieces displayed on the wall.

"Will you stop fussing?" Derek asked, coming up beside her with two champagne flutes. "Everything looks amazing."

"I'm not fussing," she protested, accepting the glass. "I'm making sure it's perfect."

"It's already perfect. You're just nervous." Derek clinked his glass against hers. "To Siren's Call finally getting the recognition it deserves."

Mira took a sip, the bubbles tickling her throat. The gallery was filling with people dressed to the nines. Chicago's tattoo scene elite mingled with collectors, journalists, and art enthusiasts. This exhibition was a big deal. Twenty of the top tattoo artists in the city were showcasing their work as legitimate art.

"Have you seen the feature wall yet?" Derek asked. "They put your botanical sleeve series front and center."

"Really?" Pride swelled in her chest.

"Really. Come see." He guided her through the growing crowd to the main wall where her series of three photographs showing a client's floral sleeve from concept to completion commanded attention.

"Not bad for someone who almost quit after the Max disaster," Derek said quietly.

"Don't remind me." Mira's mood darkened briefly at the memory of her ex. "Tonight isn't about that."

"You're right." Derek squeezed her shoulder. "Tonight is about celebrating how far you've come. And maybe about that corporate guy who can't take his eyes off you."

"What?" Mira whipped her head around, following Derek's gaze.

Hayden stood near the entrance, scanning the room. The sight of him made her heart skip. She'd never seen him in a suit before. The charcoal gray fabric emphasized his broad shoulders and tall frame. His usually tousled hair was styled for the occasion, and he'd shaved the stubble that had become familiar during their sessions.

"You didn't tell me you invited him," Derek said, his voice teasing.

"I didn't." Mira couldn't look away as Hayden finally spotted her. A smile spread across his face, transforming his normally serious expression. "I mentioned the exhibition during our last session, but I never expected him to come."

"Hmm." Derek's tone was knowing. "Well, I'm going to go charm that gallery owner from New York. You handle your admirer."

Before Mira could protest, Derek disappeared into the crowd, leaving her alone as Hayden made his way toward her.

"Surprise," Hayden said when he reached her, his voice warm. "You look incredible."

Mira glanced down at her simple black dress. "Thanks. You clean up pretty well yourself."

"The suit helps." He gestured around the gallery. "This place is amazing. I had no idea tattoo art could be presented like this."

"That's kind of the point," Mira said, feeling oddly proud to show him this side of her world. "Breaking down barriers between traditional art and tattoo art."

"Well, it's working." Hayden's eyes never left her face. "Which ones are yours?"

"Let me show you."

Mira led him through the gallery, pointing out her pieces. They stopped in front of the photograph of his phoenix, displayed prominently among her best work. The image captured the tattoo mid-completion, the vibrant colors emerging from mist along his shoulder blade.

"I didn't know you were including this," Hayden said, surprise in his voice.

"Is that okay?" Mira suddenly worried. "I should have asked. Your face isn't in it, and the consent form you signed at the beginning covered using images for display, but - "

"It's more than okay," Hayden interrupted. "It's an honor. I just didn't realize it was exhibition-worthy."

"Are you kidding? It's some of my best work." Mira studied the photograph alongside him. "The way the phoenix emerges from nothing instead of from flames or ashes gives it a unique perspective on transformation."

"That's exactly what I wanted." Hayden's voice dropped lower. "Something new being created, not just reborn from destruction."

Their eyes met, and for a moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the crowded gallery.

A woman's voice broke the moment. "Mira Bennett? I'm Julia Martin from Art & Ink Magazine. I'd love to ask you a few questions about your work."

Mira tore her gaze away from Hayden. "Of course."

"I'll grab us some more champagne," Hayden said, giving her space for the interview.

The next hour flew by quickly with introductions, conversations about her technique, and fielding interest from potential clients. Throughout it all, Mira remained aware of Hayden's presence in the room, his tall figure easy to spot as he studied the various artworks.

"Your phoenix piece is getting a lot of attention," Riley said, appearing at Mira's side with a plate of appetizers. Her apprentice had ditched her usual casual wear for a stylish jumpsuit. "Did you know your client was coming tonight?"

"No," Mira admitted, accepting an offered bite. "Complete surprise."

"A hot surprise in a tailored suit." Riley waggled her eyebrows. "And he hasn't stopped watching you all night."

"We're still client and artist, Ry." But even as she said it, Mira knew it wasn't entirely true anymore. Not after that night at the bar.

"For now," Riley said with a knowing smile. "Anyway, Derek says the gallery owner from New York is interested in featuring your work in their next exhibition."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. You're the star tonight, Mira." Riley nudged her side. "And hot suit guy knows it."

Before Mira could respond, she caught sight of a familiar figure near her botanical display. Her champagne glass nearly slipped from her fingers.

"Is that...?" Riley's voice trailed off.

"Max." Mira's stomach twisted. Her ex stood examining her work with a critical eye, a notebook in hand. "What the hell is he doing here?"

"He writes for Tattoo Culture now," Riley said grimly. "Derek mentioned they were sending someone, but we had no idea it would be him."

Mira hadn't seen Max since their ugly breakup two years ago, when she discovered he'd taken credit for her designs in a major magazine feature. The betrayal had nearly ended her career before it really began, leaving her with trust issues and rigid professional boundaries.

"I need to talk to him," Mira said, handing Riley her glass.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"No, but I can't have him lurking around my exhibition." She smoothed her dress and straightened her shoulders. "I'll be fine."

Mira made her way across the gallery, her confidence wavering with each step. Max hadn't changed much. He had the same carefully cultivated artistic dishevelment, same annoying habit of tapping his pen against his lip as he studied artwork.

"I don't recall putting you on the guest list," she said when she reached him.

Max turned, surprise briefly flickering across his face before settling into a smug smile. "Mira. You look well."

"What are you doing here, Max?"

"Covering the exhibition for the magazine." He gestured to her botanical series. "Your work has evolved. More refined now."

"Cut the bullshit." Mira kept her voice low to avoid causing a scene. "You know you're not welcome anywhere near my art."

"Ancient history." Max waved his hand dismissively. "I've moved on. You should too."

"Moved on to what? Stealing someone else's designs?"

His smile tightened. "That was a misunderstanding."

"A misunderstanding?" Mira's voice rose slightly. "You took my sketches, claimed them as your own, and nearly tanked my reputation. That's not a misunderstanding, that's theft."

"Always so dramatic." Max sighed. "Look, I'm here to do a job. Feature the best work from the exhibition."

"Then I suggest you focus on the other nineteen artists," Mira said coldly. "My work isn't available for your articles."

Max's eyes narrowed. "You don't get to dictate what I cover."

"Actually, I do. The consent forms for using my images specifically exclude publications you're affiliated with." Mira hadn't actually included that clause, but Max wouldn't know it. "So unless you want legal trouble, stay away from my work."

"Everything okay here?"

Hayden's voice came from behind her, steady and calm. Mira turned to find him standing there, two fresh champagne glasses in hand, his expression polite but with a hint of steel beneath.

"Fine," Mira said quickly. "Max was just leaving my display."

Max glanced between them, his eyes lingering on Hayden's face with recognition. "You're the phoenix guy. The one in the photograph."

"Hayden Cole," he introduced himself without offering a hand to shake. "And you are?"

"Max Donovan. Art director for Tattoo Culture."

"Interesting." Hayden's voice remained pleasant, but his eyes hardened. "I believe I've seen your byline. Weren't you involved in some plagiarism controversy a couple years back?"

Max's face flushed. "That was a misunderstanding."

"Seems like you have a lot of those." Hayden stepped closer to Mira, not quite touching her but clearly establishing his presence in her corner. "I heard the gallery owner from New York discussing Mira's work earlier. Apparently, she's considering a solo exhibition. Would be a shame if someone from her past caused complications."

The implied threat wasn't subtle. Max's jaw tightened as he assessed Hayden, clearly recognizing he was outmatched in both size and influence.

"I'll be looking at the other displays," Max said finally, tucking his notebook into his jacket. "Good seeing you, Mira."

As he walked away, Mira let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "Thank you," she said quietly to Hayden. "Though I could have handled him."

"I know you could have." Hayden handed her one of the champagne glasses. "But you shouldn't have to, at least not alone. Not during your big night."

The simple support warmed her more than the champagne. "How did you know about Max?"

"Riley filled me in while you were being interviewed," Hayden admitted. "She was worried when she saw him approach you."

"Of course she was." Mira took a sip of champagne, gathering herself. "Well, that's enough drama for one evening."

"Agreed." Hayden gestured toward her botanical series. "Tell me about these instead. The detail is extraordinary."

Grateful for the change of subject, Mira launched into an explanation of the project, finding her professional confidence returning as she discussed her work. Hayden listened attentively, asking thoughtful questions that showed genuine interest rather than polite conversation.

As the evening progressed, they moved through the gallery together, discussing various artists' work. It felt surprisingly natural to have him by her side, as if they'd known each other far longer than the few months since he first walked into her studio.

"You know a lot about art for a tech executive," Mira observed as they studied a back piece displayed by another artist.

"My mother was a museum curator," Hayden explained. "I spent most of my childhood weekends in galleries and museums. Some of it stuck, I guess."

"You never mentioned that."

"You never asked." His smile was teasing. "Our conversations have been somewhat... limited in scope."

The reminder of their bathroom encounter brought heat to Mira's cheeks. "Fair point."

"I'd like to change that," Hayden said, his voice growing serious. "After the final session, I mean. Get to know you beyond the studio."

Before Mira could respond, Derek appeared at her elbow. "Sorry to interrupt, but the gallery owner wants to speak with you. Privately."

"Now?" Mira asked.

"Now. She's leaving soon for another event." Derek gave Hayden an apologetic smile. "Mind if I steal her for a bit?"

"Not at all." Hayden stepped back. "I'll be around."

As Derek led her away, Mira glanced back to see Hayden watching her go, his expression unreadable. The meeting with the gallery owner was brief but promising. It was a serious discussion about featuring Mira's work in New York, potential commission opportunities, and talk of a solo exhibition next year.

By the time Mira finished, the gallery had begun to thin out. She searched the remaining crowd for Hayden, finally spotting him near the exit, talking with Riley. Whatever Riley was saying had Hayden laughing, his usually serious face transformed by genuine amusement.

The sight made something twist in Mira's chest. Not jealousy, but a realization of how much she wanted to be the one making him laugh like that. How much she wanted to know him beyond their professional relationship and that one heated encounter.

As if sensing her gaze, Hayden looked up, his smile softening when he caught her eye. He excused himself from Riley and made his way to Mira.

"How was your meeting?" he asked.

"Amazing," Mira told him about the New York opportunity, excitement bubbling through her voice.

"That's incredible, Mira. You deserve it."

"Thank you for coming tonight," she said impulsively. "It means a lot."

"Wouldn't have missed it." Hayden glanced at his watch. "The reception seems to be winding down. Have you eaten?"

Mira realized she'd been too nervous to manage more than a few canap�s all evening. "Not really."

"There's a place not far from here. Nothing fancy, but they make fantastic food," Hayden suggested. "We could grab dinner. If you want."

Mira thought for a moment.

"Just food," Hayden added, reading her hesitation. "No expectations."

Riley caught Mira's eye across the room and mouthed "Go!" with an exaggerated thumbs-up.

"I should stay until the end," Mira said reluctantly. "But after that... dinner would be nice."

"I'll wait."

The final half hour of the reception passed in a blur of goodbyes and congratulations. Derek assured Mira he and Riley would handle the final details with the gallery, practically shoving her toward the door.

"Go celebrate," Derek insisted. "You earned it."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." He lowered his voice. "And if celebration happens to include tall, dark, and corporate over there, even better."

Mira rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress her smile. "It's just dinner."

"Sure it is." Derek kissed her cheek. "Have fun."

Hayden waited by the door, his suit jacket draped over his arm in the warm gallery. As Mira approached, he straightened, a smile spreading across his face.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Ready."

Outside, the night air was cool after the packed gallery. Hayden guided her with a light touch at the small of her back, the simple contact sending sparks up her spine.

"My car's this way," he said, gesturing down the street. "Unless you'd prefer to walk? The restaurant's only a few blocks."

"Walking sounds good." Mira needed the fresh air to clear her head.

They strolled side by side, close but not quite touching.

"So," Hayden said after a comfortable silence, "did you always want to be a tattoo artist?"

Mira shook her head. "I was studying fine arts, planning to go into graphic design. Safe career path, decent money."

"What changed?"

"My college roommate wanted a tattoo but couldn't afford it. I designed it for her, went with her to the shop." Mira smiled at the memory. "The artist said my design was good enough that I should consider apprenticing. At first I thought he was joking, but the idea stuck with me."

"Took a risk on something unexpected," Hayden observed. "Seems to be a pattern with you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's a compliment," he assured her. "Not many people have the courage to change direction when something calls to them."

"Like leaving a hedge fund for sustainable tech?" Mira asked, remembering his story.

"Exactly like that." Hayden guided her around a corner. "Sometimes the unexpected path is the right one."

Their eyes met briefly, the double meaning hanging between them. Mira felt a rush of warmth that had nothing to do with the evening temperature.

"Here we are," Hayden said, stopping in front of a small restaurant tucked between two larger buildings. Through the window, Mira could see candlelit tables and a cozy interior.

It looked intimate. Romantic.

"This isn't what I was expecting," she admitted.

"Too much?" Hayden asked, suddenly uncertain. "We can find somewhere else."

"No, it's perfect." And strangely, it was. Despite their agreement to wait, despite her professional boundaries, this moment felt right. "Let's go in."

Hayden held the door for her, and as Mira passed him, their eyes met again. The hunger she saw there matched her own, and had nothing to do with food.

"Table for two?" the host asked.

"Yes," Hayden answered, his gaze still locked with Mira's. "Somewhere private."

The host led them to a secluded corner booth, partially hidden from the rest of the restaurant by a decorative screen. Mira slid in, and instead of taking the seat across from her, Hayden settled beside her, close enough that she could feel the heat of his body.

"Is this okay?" he asked quietly.

Words failed her. The carefully constructed timeline they'd agreed to seemed suddenly arbitrary, a pointless delay when what they both wanted was right here, right now.

Mira made her decision. She leaned forward, closing the distance between them, and pressed her lips to his.

Hayden responded immediately, one hand coming up to cup her face. The kiss was gentle at first, a question more than a demand. But when Mira's hand landed on his thigh, the restraint between them shattered.

The kiss deepened, months of tension and two weeks of waiting pouring into the contact. His tongue traced the seam of her lips, seeking entrance which she eagerly granted. The taste of champagne lingered between them, sweet and intoxicating.

When they finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, Hayden rested his forehead against hers.

"What happened to waiting until after the final session?" he asked, his voice rough with desire.

"I'm tired of waiting," Mira admitted. "Aren't you?"