Love Me by Tiffany Patterson EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Tiffany Patterson
- Language: English
- Genre: Billionaire Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
I twist my key in the lock, anxious to get inside to open the
letter burning the palm of my hand. It’s from the National Institute of the
Arts. I recently applied for their creative small business grant.
I toss my bag and other belongings that I carry with me to work at my day
job as an art curator onto the table by my front door, then heel-toe my shoes
After shutting and locking my door, I just stare at the envelope in my
hands for a beat. The contents of this grant could determine my life’s next
It would mean finally having enough money to start the art gallery that
I’ve longed to open for years. A place to showcase women artists who
otherwise wouldn’t have the opportunity to get into a gallery.
As a curator in New York City, I know how hard it is to break into this
very exclusive world. At the upper echelons, it’s a space reserved for people
with at least a seven-figure net worth. More like eight figures, though.
I want to provide women artists who aren’t wealthy enough, come from
rough backgrounds, or aren’t worthy of being seen in the eyes of the larger
society, with a space to call their own.
I take a deep breath and rip open the letter like peeling off a band-aid. My
fingers tremble slightly as I unfold the letter.
My eyes scan the first few sentences.
“Ms. Richmond, though your application caught our attention,” I
mumble-read. “we regret to– Ahh!” I yell in frustration.
Without reading the rest, I crumple up the rejection letter and toss it
across the room.
It hits the wooden door of my apartment and bounces a little, landing a
few feet away.
Yet another disappointment in a string of disappointments.
Disgusted, I spin away from the door and head straight to my kitchen. I
uncork my favorite bottle of red wine and pour myself a glass. Before I take a
sip, though, I check my blood sugar numbers on my wristwatch.
I’m in a safe enough range that a few sips of wine won’t do any harm.
With a sigh, I down half of the glass. I desperately want to chug the entire
thing and then go back to the bottle for seconds.
Even after more than twenty years of living with type one diabetes, I have
moments where I wish it wasn’t such a damn factor in my life. The desire to
drown my sorrows in a bottle of alcohol is one of those moments.
Especially when I recall that my illness is why I’m currently single. My
stomach twists in a knot thinking about my ex.
But I shake my head and pull my emotions together enough to set the
half-filled glass aside.
I have a phone call to make.
Ms. McClure is the mother of the leading artist I want to feature in my
gallery. I promised to call her when I heard the news about the grant.
“Hello?” she answers on the third ring.
“Ms. McClure, it’s Monique Richmond.”
“Oh,” she blows out a breath, “perfect timing. I just put Mikey down for
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