Page 29

After that exchange, the choice was obvious. Walk away and don’t look back. I couldn’t risk letting everything we’ve worked for fall apart because of her.

She’ll be pissed. Not because I am wrong about letting her go, but because she doesn’t have the full picture so she can’t possibly understand.

It’s better for everyone.

Even if my dick strongly disagrees.

Silas beats me to the main door. Bribing the usher at the door with enough money to gain us entrance. Now that we’re inside, he smiles over his shoulder at how easy that was.

“I’m heading to the fourth floor. There’s a painting up there that I want to get a closer look at.” He spins around and nods toward the large gallery. “Look around and see if anything interesting jumps out at you.”

I hate the way he smirks—a self-satisfied sneer—as he strides away, his footsteps echoing up the stairs.

I don’t feel like looking around. I should’ve stayed outside and waited for him there. But I’m here now, so why the hell not? Maybe I’ll learn something about art.

With a warm smile, the greeter hands me a brochure, the crisp paper outlining the exhibit. When a waiter passes, carrying a tray of champagne, I snatch a glass. Downing it in one go, as I move through the room, hoping to cool down before heading upstairs.

I’m ready to get the fuck out of here. Need to honestly.

If I don’t hurry him along, Silas will stall all night. He enjoys making people wait, reminding them he’s the one in control.

Several interesting works catch my eye. A shimmering silver vase and a carved wooden mask stand out, making me pause. I consider taking one home… right up until I see the price tag.

“Fucking hell. That’s more than my rent.”

The older woman next to me does her best to put me in my place. “You can’t put a price on art, dear boy.”

Gesturing to the price, I voice my disagreement. “Clearly, you can. And it seems you can stick it to some poor sod by fucking him up the arse dry.”

A gasp escapes her, and before my apology can leave my lips, she snorts with amusement and slips her arm through mine. “I like you. You can be our guide for the evening. Make this experience more entertaining for my granddaughter and me.”

“I don’t know shit about art.” I glance down at the older woman, her elegant dress is a stark contrast to the casual attire of the several other guests. “You should probably find someone else.”

“Hogwash.” With a pat on my arm, she encourages me to take a step to my left. “You don’t have to know shit about art to enjoy it. Let each piece speak for itself. What’s this one saying to you?”

This old bat is crazy, and I’ll prove she’s wrong. “Nothing.”

“Don’t be a twat, boy. Look at it. Really look at it and tell me.” Her eyes zone in on the portrait hanging in front of us. “There’s no wrong answer. How does it make you feel? And don’t say nothing.”

She’s not letting this go until I play along. Concentrating on the painting, I study it, waiting for it to stir something inside me.

Surprisingly, it does.

“Sad. Depressed.” I lean in to get a closer look. “It’s the eyes. This person has lived through more than one should.”

Her crooked finger points at the nameplate, and she reads the title. “Hell on Earth.”

“Good title.” Tugging her with me, I step up to the next one, a sculpture. “I’m not sure what I’m looking at.”

“Give it a minute. It’ll come to you.” A sly smile graces her lips as she lets out a sigh. “As a man, you’ve surely seen one before.”

I blink rapidly, then tilt my head back, fixing my gaze on the ceiling instead of the damn sculpture. “Bloody hell. Moving on.”

“Oh, come on. Surely you aren’t intimidated by a knob?” The older woman surprises me as her gaze moves to my crotch. “I bet yours is quite impressive.”

“What’s impressive, Grandmother?” the voice I was hoping to avoid hearing asks from behind me. “Oh Jesus. I thought I told you to stop bothering the men.”

I turn and catch the blush spreading across her cheeks.