Page 76 of The One-Night Heist

“Well, look what the mangy cat dragged in…” his goofy grin filled my rolled-down window, the diamond inlay of his gold tooth catching the light. “What have you been up to, carrots? Collecting sugar daddies?”

Just one, thank you very much.

“How ‘bout you get the fuck out of the way so we can exit the vehicle,” I grumbled, annoyed he’d brought up my childhood nickname. “Then you can meet everyone.”

The “everyone” included Franz at this point, who we’d picked up at the airport after his boring old commercial flight got in.

Along with the other peasants.

Giano looked like he was having the time of his life as he emerged from the car after me, but Daddy Pinstripes made sure to shoot me yet another glare as he followed close behind.

Right back atcha.

I wasn’t sure what Franz’s problem was—besides the obvious—but he’d refused to address me directly since he landed, which was fine by me.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re pretty!” Mick shouted as the car drove off, and I growled, ready to tell him to back the hell off from my billionaire.

Until I realized he was talking about Franz.

Oh.

Oh, this is hilarious.

“Have you ever sat for an artist before?” he continued, stalking around the other man like a much larger predator circling its prey. “You know… art modeling?”

“I…” Daddy Pinstripes flinched as Mick flicked his fedora away from his face for a closer look. “My… mother was an art model, but I⁠—”

“That settles it.” Mick nodded and stepped back, crossing his arms and continuing to look him up and down appraisingly. “You’ll sit for me and I’ll let ya keep one of the paintings. Maybe even one of the nude ones.”

I am living for this.

“Franz here is a fine art appraiser for Sotheby’s New York.” Giano smiled politely as he offered his hand to my foster brother. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mick. I’m Giancarlo Luxford.”

“Ohhh, so this is Luxford.” Mick winked lecherously in my direction as they shook hands, just to piss me off. “Well done, carrots.”

Franz was back to glaring at me, but Giano just seemed amused by the commentary, which made sense.

He puts up with my bullshit after all.

“Is that nickname an Anne of Green Gables reference?” Giano asked, surprising the hell out of me.

“Sure is!” Mick cackled, his gray eyes sparkling. “My little sister Lucy rewatched that show so many times, the VCR caught on fire.” He cocked his head, his shaggy brown hair falling into his eye. “Did you have an Avonlea-obsessed sister too? Or were you watching for that hot slab of Canadian bacon, Gilbert Blythe?”

Franz turned his glare in Mick’s direction, no doubt ready to defend his “little brother” against homophobia, or whatever he thought was about to come out of the gold-toothed mouth of the meathead before us.

Guess what, Daddy Pinstripes.

There is nothing heterosexual about Mick in the least.

“No siblings, and it was the books, mostly.” Giano blushed prettily, confirming his answer to Mick’s second question. “I enjoyed the… whimsy.”

Just when I thought you couldn’t get any cuter.

The terrible urge to kiss Giano reared its ugly head again, but then Mick threw his head back and guffawed loudly, saving me from doing something stupid.

“Okay, Luxford, you’re approved. Carrots could use some fucking whimsy in his life.” He violently slapped me on the back with one of his huge mitts. “You work too hard, bro.”

I sighed, already regretting this family reunion. “A man’s gotta eat, bro, and not all of us are unfairly blessed with God-given talent.”