Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
“I agree with that. Anything else?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know. I’m still thinking.” Parker shoved to his feet and paced away, but as he moved, his gaze kept straying to the pristine white wall broken only by the windows that looked out onto the backyard.
Just as I was about to open my mouth to tell him to sleep on it, Parker spun around to face me, his expression full of excitement.
“I’ll do it.”
“Really?” I hadn’t expected him to decide so fast. My heart flipped over as I slowly pushed to my feet.
“Why the fuck not?” Parker laughed, throwing his hands up in the air. “It’s a shit-ton of money for me to do what I love. I’d make more than enough to give the full-time artist thing a go for a few years, even while putting Joy in diapers. If I can’t figure out how to be a professional paid artist by that point, I’ll go back to wearing a tie and crunching numbers for corporate stiffs with a smile on my face.”
12
PARKER CAIN
“What do you mean you don’t like green?”
Joy blew another stream of raspberries and bubbles as she bounced in her chair beside me. This was her new favorite thing. Actually, her favorite thing seemed to be making noise. As much noise as possible. All the noise, all the time. She got that from both of her parents.
I needed to look it up, but there was probably a process of babies finding their voice, or maybe I was making shit up. I didn’t know. What I was sure of was that the little miss on my right was happily batting at her activity toys while randomly shouting “Ahh!” as though she’d been hit with a brilliant idea.
“I think green is a perfect color for this room. I promise it won’t resemble brussels sprouts,” I replied. That got me another round of “Pop Goes the Weasel” from the play center as she unerringly slapped her hand on a big yellow button.
It had been a couple of days since Declan had hired me to paint murals throughout his house. While a lawyer was drawing up a contract that protected both of our asses, I’d treated myself to a run to the art supply store. I’d lost everything in the fire. A lifetime of sketches, paintings, and doodles. There was some work at my parents’ house in Arizona, but they didn’t have anything I’d made after I’d finished college. While I had taken pictures of my favorites, it still hurt to know all that work was gone forever. I was trying not to think about it too much.
There was a different kind of thrill that came from new sketchbooks, brushes, paints, pencils, and all the other bits and bobs. Right now, I had just the basics. I’d get the bulk of what I needed only after the contract was signed and that down payment was in my bank account.
For now, I was making sketches and gathering up ideas. I wouldn’t dare start on a piece until I had Declan’s approval of a smaller version of it. The man might say that I had free rein to create whatever I wanted, but I wasn’t stupid. I wanted to create something he would like.
Over the past two days, I’d wandered the house, making notes about the various rooms. While Declan was back at work, I might have located the kitchen and enjoyed some sneaky chats with Franks and Chef Donovan as I sipped lattes. Both of them were excited that Joy and I were staying. The talented chef wanted to attempt to make some baby food from scratch while Franks was interested in seeing the murals I would create. It might have been suggested that I ask Declan to include the servants’ quarters in the agreement.
After making a lot of notes, I settled on a parlor near the entrance of the house as my starting place for the murals. According to Franks, it was a little-used room since Declan received few guests. It was filled with good sunlight throughout the day. The other bonus was that it contained only a few pieces of furniture and almost no decorations. A great place to work in and I wouldn’t disturb Declan regardless of what hour of the day I was painting.
But as someone rang the doorbell, I realized it might be a good idea to hang some kind of sheet to block the view of visitors as they passed through the house. There was nothing more irritating than someone peeking at a piece before I was finished.
Franks rushed through the foyer to answer the door while I kept my focus on the sketch pad in front of me. I’d picked up a set of professional-grade soft oil pastels for my sketches because they allowed me to work quickly and had the kind of brightness that I aimed for in my work. That way, I’d be able to give Declan the clearest glimpse of my vision for the mural.