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I need, cowboy or no cowbo y. Maybe Big Sky country will kick-start my life into new and fabulous directions.
    And maybe my dream was some weird, random premonition. Like I’d become a seductive psychic whose stars were suddenly aligned or something. I laugh this off but at the same time, in some defiant little recess of my mind, I decide to go with it. An unfamiliar thread of optimism and excitement colors my outlook in a way that makes the humid, overcast day seem brighter. Sultry and thick with possibility. Like the dream.
    Get a grip , Ell e, I scold myself.
    The gallery phone rings and Powers answers it, then disappears into the back office to talk. Astrid ’s looking at me with a soulful expression I can’t quite read. She shoots a quick look towards the office door, which is now closed. “Elle,” she says earnestly, like she’s been planning what she’s about to say for a while. “We both know the only reason I get to keep my job is because I’m sleeping with the boss.”
    I silently agree with her but don’t say so. I want to hear where Astrid’s going with this.
    “You’re really good at this job, Elle,” she says. “ Really good. You’ve got a killer eye for this shit, and I mean that. Every artist you find sells for much higher prices than either my picks or Powers’s – and every single one of the exhibitions you’ve curated has completely sold out, with crazy-ass profits . Rain Ransom was your discovery. You found her painting on that obscure website last year , remember? Powers reeled her in but it was you who found her.”
    I’d had these thoughts myself, of course. I ’d even played around with the idea of asking for a raise at one point. Now that I’d basically been fired I guess there wasn’t much chance of that happening.
    “Elle, you should borrow the money and start your own gallery,” Astrid says. “ If you do, I’ll jump ship. If you’d want me, that is. I’d do it myself but I don’t have th e same kind of talent you have . All it would take was one stellar opening show and you could probably make back all the money it would take to start the business. Look at Rain Ransom – her paintings are selling for twenty thousand dollars each. How much would it take to start a gallery? A hundred thousand? One fifty? Think about it, Elle. Twenty paintings at thirty percent commis sion and you’re looking at a hundred and twenty thousand dollars . For one show.”
    I’m a little gobsmacked by Astrid’s gush. She’s obviously given this a lot of thought.
    “And you found Fleur Jensen, too,” she says. “ You were the one who first saw her on that online gallery. Do you remember what you said about her? You said, ‘We should get her now before she gets too big.’ Do you know how rare that is? Do you know how lucky you are, to do w hat you can do? To just take a line-up of paintings and say: that one. That’s the masterpiece. That’s the artist that’s going to sell for megabucks. T he one who’ll hit the jackpot, out of all these other millions of paintings and painters who are trying to get noticed . I can’t do that. Powers can’t even do that. We’re just guessing . But you know . You have a knack for it. You should totally capitalize on that knack.”
    Wow, Astrid is worked up. She’s been plotting. S tewing. Things between her and Powers must be worse than I thought. She wants out of her relationship but breaking it off would also mean losing her job. I know how badly Astrid needs her paycheck, just like I need mine.
    “At least think about it, okay?” Astrid says . “Go to Montana, Elle, and secure Fleur Jensen, if you can. But not for Powers. Get her for yourself. Or get someone else. Someone even better. ”
    Shit. Astrid is desperate. Until now, I ’d never seen evidence of a vengeful bone in Astrid’s lithe, pale-skinned little body. But she’s serious. She’s practically pleading. As if I might be her salvation.
    It’s a strange turn of events.Here I