Scott’s POVThe meeting room felt a bit uncomfortable the moment Laurent walked in. Tall, confident, with that lovely French accent and sharp suit that screamed luxury, rich people sure do know how to show off. He smiled at me like I was the only person in the building.“Scott,” he said, voice warm as he shook my hand a second too long. “I’ve been looking forward to this but as a private session. Your vision is… captivating.”I smiled professionally, ignoring the way his eyes lingered on my lips. Someone had clearly told him I was gay. The flirting started subtle, compliments on my “artistic hands,” light touches on my arm when pointing at sketches, low laughs at my jokes. I stayed focused, talking about art in general, my belief, and the exhibition flow, but my cheeks warmed anyway. It felt good to be seen. To be wanted. Not hidden like Elliot kept me.“You mean this was supposed to be a private meeting?” I was surprised. I was too excited to read the memo carefully. “Yeah, I asked
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