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“Staying for a drink?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Gotta go.”
“So soon?”
“Casey’s alone, in Vick’s shed.”
“I see.” The atmosphere was tense. Real fucking awkward. He hovered for ages, eyes on the floor, and it took me a while to realise what he was waiting for. “Shit! Your money! Christ, I’m sorry.” I dashed into the bedroom and gathered it up, shoving it into his hands as he stared at me. “Count it, please. I’d hate if there was any missing.”
His eyes didn’t leave mine. “What’s this for?”
I smiled. “You’ve definitely earned it.”
His expression darkened. “Guess I did, yeah.” He shoved the notes in his pocket. “See you around.”
Fuck. He’d gone before I could even say goodbye.
***
“Jesus Christ, baby, you don’t do things by halves, do you.” Raven smiled, stubbing out her cigarette as the waitress delivered our coffees. “So, Roger is out, Savage is in?”
“Neither’s in at the moment,” I groaned. “Callum’s gone totally bloody AWOL.”
“AWOL?” she quizzed, perfect brows raised.
“Won’t answer his phone, no sign of him on the estate.” I sighed. “Avoiding me like the plague. He’s painting, though, work’s going ballistic about it, eating into next quarter’s budget just to keep it under control.”
“Is he any good?”
“Wouldn’t catch the maintenance team calling it art.” I handed her an envelope, stuffed full of photos I’d printed out at work when no one was looking. “What do you think?”
She flicked through the pictures, pausing on some for an age, eyes glittering. “He did these?”
“All of them, yeah.”
“Boy’s got skill,” she said.
“You think so? I mean,Ithink so, but I’m probably skewed. Supposed to be filing these for prosecution,vandalism.”
“That’sthe fucking crime, right there. These are fucking incredible.” She turned a photo towards me, one of my favourites: a boy leaping, mid-flight, surrounded by twisted blades as he reaches for the sun. “Look at the lines... the colour...” She pointed to the swirls in the background. “That control, the care with which he layers the paint. Yet, it’s jagged, rushed... clearly done at speed. You can feel the passion... the soul... I fucking love it.”
I felt my cheeks burning. “Yeah, me too.”
“Guess you found your Mr Dangerous.”
“Found him and lost him.”
“I’m sure he’ll turn up. You’re a hot chick, sassy as sin with a good head on your shoulders. What’s not to love?”
I sipped my coffee. “I’m old. He’s young. I live in my parents’ ivory tower, he’s on the street... do I need to continue?”
“Twenty fucking eight isn’t old, believe me, I’m counting on it. Anyway, a guy loves an older woman, I’m sure you can break him in, teach him a few tricks.”
“No need. He’s been around a bit, that much is totally obvious.”
“He’s good, then?”
I couldn’t hide the grin. “Rough, raw, dirty... really fucking good with his hands.”
