”Nothing, I—” I start again, but Claire cuts me off.
“We want June to bid on the mural project.”
Graham nods, and my jaw tightens.
“Oh, the one that bitch is doing?”
Grant chokes on a chip, letting out a loud laugh.
“I forgot you met Cecelia! Yes, her. I want June to beat her ass, not only because June is a million times more talented, but because I don’t want that bitch to have anything good in her life. Wouldn’t it be absolutely amazing to be able to shove that in her face?” Claire asks, but I have a counterargument, one I’ve been weighing for a while and, in my humble opinion, is a solid one.
“And would it not be terribly embarrassing if she were to get it instead of me?” I ask, but Lainey shakes her head.
“No, because she won’t. She might have her dad voting for her, but he’s the only one. You’re just a big fat scaredy cat who’s afraid of rejection.”
“I am not!” I argue like a child, but when Graham reaches out under the table, twining his fingers with mine, I wonder if maybe I am, and even he knows it. “Wasn’t me opening my shop enough?”
It sounds like a whine even to me.
“No,” Claire says, bluntly.
“I don’t even know how to make a proposal for something like that,” I sigh, even though in moments of bravery, I’ve found and begun replicating other successful mural bids.
“Lucky for you, you’re fucking a businessman.”
“Jesus Christ, Claire, can you chill?” Grant asks, groaning and putting a hand over his ears.
“Oh, come on. Look at them. She’s hot. He’s hot. If they weren’t fucking, I’d be concerned.”
“I’m concerned that you feel the deep need to remind me of that every other moment.”
Claire grins wide and I know what’s coming next.
“I’m sure she felt the deep?—”
“Okay, okay, enough,” Lainey says, putting all of us out of our misery now. “Let’s stop before we completely scare Graham off. What I think Claire was trying to say is that Graham probably knows how to put a great business plan together, so June has no excuse not to follow through.”
“I’m more than happy to help. You know I think your art is fantastic,” Graham says. “I was just telling her I want her to do a mural at Daytrip.”
I bite my lip. “It’s really not?—”
“I actually think moving into murals is a good idea,” Grant says, and I snap my head toward him.
“You do?”
“Well, yeah. I mean, your art business is going pretty well. It makes sense to do so a large contract. You could garner more interest in your business, and it would essentially be free advertising.”
A familiar nervous energy churns in my gut.
“Yeah, but art is…art is just a hobby.”
He looks at me oddly, reading my face, and my stomach tightens, unsure of what he’s going to say, but before he can speak, a little bit of luck interrupts.
“A ladybug!” I call when the red and black beetle lands on my arm. “A ladybug!”
“Let me guess, it’s good luck.” Grant says, utter exhaustion in the word. I glare at my brother, but he just grins, immune to my laser eyes.
“My luck has been treating me very well thus far, thank you very much.” Graham’s hand tightens in mine, and I look at him, smiling.
