Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 96512 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96512 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
“Hey,” I call out as I get out of the car.
He jogs down the stairs to meet me. He’s watching Riley as I wanted to have a long day in the studio.
“I have news,” I say, beaming at him.
He cups my face and presses his lips to mine with a sigh, like all’s well in Fisher’s world now that I’m back home. I know that feeling. It’s exactly the one I feel when he kisses me.
“That’s a coincidence,” he says. “Because I have news too. You go first.”
Fisher’s news is always more exciting than mine. He managed to secure a plot of land just on the outskirts of town to build our new home. He’s already secured some of the permissions I never thought he would. Plus his news from New York usually involves someone I’ve seen on page six. My news is big to me, but will be small fry compared to whatever Fisher’s going to tell me.
I shake my head. “You first.”
He pulls in a breath. “I spoke to Gerry today. Turns out he’s now a fully paid-up member of the Colorado Club.”
My eyes go wide. “He is?” I don’t want to pry, but I can’t decide if that’s weird or not. Gerry’s been obsessed with Fisher over the years and now their relationship is in new territory. Does he think this is a good thing?
“Yeah. I just got an email from him. He said he thought it would be good to spend some time together when he’s here next—which is the week after next.”
“Wow,” I say. “How do you feel about that?”
We wander back to the porch. “I feel good. I think. I know it’s just biology, but we’re half brothers. I think he wants that to mean something.”
I don’t say anything, but I’m still salty about the way Gerry’s handled himself. Fisher didn’t deserve any of the things Gerry’s done to him over the years. Fisher’s got broad shoulders, but I don’t know how you can move forward with someone who’s acted the way he has. I take a seat so we can have this conversation in private.
“And also, he told me that Re Records hasn’t signed The Homecoming Kings.”
“Oh,” I say, taking in his expression. “Did you know that?”
“I’d heard that negotiations had been tricky.”
“So you think Gerry didn’t sign them because he stole them from you and he wants to have a better relationship with you or did he not sign them because they couldn’t make a deal.”
“He says it’s the first reason. But either way, if he was still trying to stick it to me, he would have signed them whatever the deal.”
“You going to try and get them back?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t need them. They should go to a big label and see how that works out for them. Maybe it’s what they need. But I’m not holding on to musicians who want to go elsewhere. Whatever the reason.”
“So you and Gerry are going to grab dinner or something?” I ask.
“I guess. I can show him the land where we’re building the house. Take him to Pizza Meet Ya. Get him to sample the wings at Grizzly’s.”
I laugh. “It always comes down to the wings.”
“Every time,” he agrees. “So tell me your news.”
I can’t hold back my grin. “I sold the blue painting.”
Fisher jumps to his feet. “Really? Already? Is that even up in Grace’s gallery?”
I shake my head. “No, she’s saving it for the show. But she showed a collector and they loved it. Apparently they’re interested in some of the darker stuff the Club didn’t want as well.”
“This is incredible.”
Riley pokes her head out of the front door. “Do you guys want privacy to make out or something?”
“Your mom just sold a painting!” Fisher says like the Yankees just won the World Series.
“Which one?” Riley asks. “The blue one?”
This kid has a knack of knowing exactly what’s going on at all times. It’s mildly terrifying.
“Yup. The blue one.”
She sighs. “I love that one. I knew it would sell super quick.”
“We should celebrate. Shall we go up to the Club for dinner?”
I glance at Riley. She’s always been at the center of all my celebrations since she was born. Everything to celebrate was celebrated with her. I don’t want to leave her out of this. It feels like a big deal—a New York gallery selling something of mine—the girl who never went to art school who paints in an abandoned candy store in rural Colorado.
“All three of us,” Fisher clarifies as if he’s reading my thoughts. “We should celebrate as a family.” His words make my heart melt. Of course he wasn’t suggesting we leave Riley out. That’s not who Fisher is.
“I have questions,” Riley says.
“Let me have ’em,” Fisher says.
“Questions about what?” I ask.
“Well, you said that when you sold a painting, you might give up work. Are you going to do that?” she asks. “What happens if you don’t sell another one. Can you get your job back?”