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“Who, Karlee?”
“Me.”
“Are you fucking insane? What . . . what possessed you? I’m taking them all. You can’t have these for anyone to see.”
She starts laughing, actually starts laughing, and I narrow my eyes. “You should hear yourself, granddad. It’s art.”
“Porn.”
“Do you go beat off in galleries? It’s art, and you know it. I think I look good.”
“You put in the welts.”
She sticks her face close. “You put them there.”
Karlee reaches for the two I took, and I put my hand on them. “No.”
“They’re mine, Tizio.”
Reluctantly, I let her take the painting, but the one with her splayed open, I turn it and study it. Fuck, she really is gorgeous. Both here and in the flesh. “You can’t have this. People will see.”
“That’s the point.” But she puts her hand on my arm. “No one’s seen that one.” Then she rises up, mouth near my ear. “I did that one after we fucked. See? I’m?—”
“Fuck. You’re trying to kill me.”
I take it and put it on top of the fridge, face down. I can’t destroy it. I can’t let anyone see it, and I’m more than aware of just how unreasonable I’m being by taking her work. But fuck me.
“Who’s seen the rest?”
“My art professor, Mr. Walker.”
He’s immediately on my hit list.
“And the class.”
So are they. Right under this fucker, Walker.
“There’s a competition, and I’m planning on entering. The big one’s off the frame, and the drawings, and then the one perfect painting to bring it together. I think it’s cool.”
I think she’s trying to kill me. If she does that, others will see. I’m not sure why this bothers me so much. I’ve been to a lot of strip joints in my job. I’ve seen a lot of naked, and most of it way lewder than any of this.
The difference is Karlee’s put herself on paper and canvas naked, and . . . oh shit, I’m being a maniacal prude with definite Victorian granddad vibes. Fuck.
“The class hasn’t seen it. I work on it after hours, and that’s what I’m doing in his class this spring break. For the competition.”
I hand her an apple. “This makes great art. It’s a classic.”
She puts it in her bag. “I need to get to school. Art’s first.”
My phone buzzes as Nicolo lets me know he and Diego are here.
I drag Karlee and her porn collection out of the house and down to the SUV.
“Hey, guys,” I say. “Want to go to a fucking art class?”
I poke around the large light-filled studio, which is a giant space. There are a couple of people working in different areas and on various things I don’t give a fuck about.
Diego scopes out the hall and other rooms, and Nicolo studies some painting.
