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)
Declan stepped forward and carefully picked up the painting. He carried it to the chair and sat heavily, his eyes moving slowly over the image as if he were trying to soak in every detail.
“Parker.” His voice was low and rough, as if he were choked with emotions. “This is…I…I don’t know what to say. It’s perfect. Thank you.”
“I wanted to give you something to say thank you for all you’ve done for Joy and me.”
Declan shook his head, but didn’t raise his eyes from the painting in his hands. “You would have figured it out. You didn’t need me.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to say that I couldn’t imagine a time when I wouldn’t need him, but I pushed down those words, trying to keep it light. “Maybe, but you made it easy for me. You gave us a safe place to figure things out. That means the world to me.” My sweet lover lifted his head, and I stole a sweet kiss. “Thank you.”
Declan swallowed hard as he walked across the room to return the painting to its spot on the easel. Even then, he seemed reluctant to walk away from it. “You got the picture from Byron? Have you shown him?”
“Nope. Franks and Donovan saw a little as I worked on it, but you’re the first to see the finished product.”
The most wicked grin I had ever seen spread across Declan’s lips. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone. Turning his phone horizontal and vertical, shifting here and there, he snapped several pictures, trying to get it just right. When he finally had one he liked, I watched over his shoulder as he sent it as a text to Sebastian, Rome, and Pierce.
I huffed. “Bragging?”
“Wait,” he murmured.
We didn’t have to wait long. Sebastian was the first. He didn’t text. He called.
With a smirk at me, he answered the call and put it on speaker.
“Parker did that?” Sebastian demanded before Declan could even say a word.
“Yes.”
“I want one. Can you ask him to paint one for me? I’ll pay! I’ll pay a million bucks for a painting exactly like that.”
A smug look filled Declan’s face as he lifted the phone to his lips while it still lay flat across his palm. “No.” And then he ended the call.
I had started laughing, but I choked on it. He’d offered to pay a million dollars for a painting. A million freaking bucks.
“He wasn’t serious, was he?” I wheezed, trying to suck in oxygen again.
“Yes, he was.”
My brain went blank. A million dollars. For one of my paintings. A commission for a single painting. A million dollars.
These rich people were fucking insane.
Declan walked over to me and plucked Joy out of my nearly dead arms. He kissed my jaw as my mouth continued to hang open. “I don’t mind you painting a portrait of us for him. You can do a painting for each of my friends. They will all want one. I just ask that you don’t do that scene. That one is mine.”
“Oh…um…yeah. Of course.” My brain was still trying to reboot after that ridiculous offer.
Declan began to leave but stopped as he reached the doorway and turned to me. His expression was darkly serious. “And you will charge each of them a million dollars per painting. Sebastian set the price, and I’m holding him to it.”
I followed, still in a daze.
These rich people…they were all a little crazy, but I liked their crazy. Was this what it was like when Sandro Botticelli had landed the patronage of the Medici during the Renaissance?
20
DECLAN FOSTER
Where the hell is he?
I sped through the thin traffic, both hands gripping the wheel tight while my palms grew slick with sweat. I tapped the Bluetooth phone button on the wheel and barked, “Call Parker,” but I didn’t have high hopes. As expected, the phone rang several times before going to voice mail.
Something was wrong.
Panic twisted in my stomach. I shouldn’t have gone in to work today. This was what happened when things were going too smoothly. Parker and I had been dating for two weeks. He and Joy had been living with me for a month. Joy was crawling. Well, it was a wiggle-scoot-crawl, but she was getting much faster. And Parker was making plans for the new mural in my office at home.
See? Perfect. Everything was perfect.
Except this morning Joy was fussy and not eating. Parker noticed she had a low-grade fever but thought it might be teething. Her first tooth had poked through last week, and it looked like there was a second one ready to break through.
What he said made sense, but something in my gut had argued that it was more. That I should take a personal day and stay home. At the very least, I could have worked from home so I could help keep an eye on things.