Close Up by Erin McCarthy

preferred Sean’s smooth, low tones. It annoyed her to admit it, but on some level, she had been comparing every man in the past decade to Sean, whether she’d been aware of it or not.
    Seeing him again, kissing him, had made it all too clear they did have unfinished business.
    “I hope so, as well,” Ian said. “Raising money for cancer research is important to me.” He gestured with his glass to the food tables. “I’m not sure I’m sold on the concept of eating raw fish off strangers, but it’s splashy, and guests will have something to talk about.”
    “I’m sure they will.” June had insisted on the models. Kristine hadn’t been sure how the artist would feel about it, but she hadn’t been allowed an opinion on the subject. Personally, she had no interest whatsoever in pulling a tuna roll off another woman’s thigh and popping it into her mouth.
    Sean, on the other hand, clearly had no issue with it. He was standing between the two women taking turns pulling sushi from both. His hands were moving rapidly over them and he was loading his mouth as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks. Was he really that hungry or was he just packing it away as an excuse to linger over the models, who were naked except for a few pieces of strategically placed Bibb lettuce.
    Then she was annoyed with herself for even caring. Wasn’t that what had destroyed their marriage in the first place? She had been unable to believe that of all the women in the world, Sean had chosen her. Now they weren’t even together and she was jealous of the attention he showed two strangers? Ridiculous.
    June came out of the back, smoothing her chignon, her little black dress and pearls showing off her classic elegance. She was thin, fit and poised, her hair a stunning silver. A perfect example of how a woman could age gracefully. Her confidence and social graces always on display, June was the antithesis of Ebbe, and the woman Kristine sometimes wished she could be. June commanded respect and admiration from men and women alike, and Kristine wanted that for herself. But the reality was that she would never be organized, calm or a size two. The question was why did she always focus on that instead of the great things she was? There were different ways to be admired, skills she did possess, like resourcefulness, creativity and an abundant smile.
    It was time to embrace her awesomeness.
    That’s why she was back in Minnesota.
    “Time to open the doors,” June said. “Kristine, can you handle that, please?” Then June noticed the glass in her hand and frowned. Turning slightly so Ian couldn’t see her, she mouthed, “No drinking,” to Kristine.
    She should have known her boss wouldn’t approve. Since she was grateful June wasn’t blaming her for leaving the front door of the gallery unlocked, and thus allowing the vandal in, Kristine knew she couldn’t afford to have any more strikes against her. Nodding to acknowledge she understood, she set the glass down on the station set up for dirty dishes and glasses. “Sure, I’m happy to open the door.”
    As she was walking across the gallery, aware that she was underdressed, she heard June ask Ian in a puzzled voice, “Who is that woman in the caftan? Is she with you?”
    Kristine winced. She desperately wanted to turn around and see what her mother was doing, but she didn’t dare risk it. When she got to the front door, putting on a smile to greet the few people who were waiting on the sidewalk to enter, she chanced a glance backward. Then was damn sorry she had.
    Her mother was talking to Ian.
    Oh, no. No, no, no.
    The pit in her stomach grew to the size of a softball, and her cheeks flushed with the heat of mortification. Not to mention fear that she was sunk. This job was history because there was no way Ebbe was discussing the chilly weather they were having.
    Torn between opening the door and running back to grab her mother by the arm and drag her into the back room, Kristine concluded she