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I scrub a hand over my face, feeling bad for reminding her about that. “You can start over. I’ll help. I know you don’t like it when I buy you things, but this will be a gift, and it’s for a good cause.” She’s talked about not being able to afford the high-end art stuff that I’m clueless about. “I’ll get you everything you need. You should nurture this talent. We need to get your stuff into galleries.”
She laughs. “We?”
“Hell, yes. I’ve got connections.”
“None of which knows your true identity.”
“We can work around that.”
Her eyes fill with tears, and she throws her arms around me. “You don’t have to do all of that. Your support is enough. I’ve never had anyone believe in me like this.”
And that pisses me off. I’m about to throw out more ideas like I’m her agent—or whatever artists like her have—when her phone, resting on the center table, rings. She stiffens in my arms, then pulls away.
I watch curiously as she eyes the device with disdain. “Aren’t you going to get that?”
Eyes averted, she shrugs. “It’s not important.”
“Really? It’s been ringingallday and you’ve been avoiding whoever it is. You think I wouldn’t notice?”
“It’s nothing.”
I consider dropping it, but it isn’t just today. This has been going on for days. After each call that she doesn’t answer, I can practically feel her agitation—like right now, she suddenly looks tense enough to snap in two.
My eyes narrow. “Bullshit.”
“It isn’t another guy, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she snaps.
I quirk an eyebrow. “Good to know.”
In typical Grace fashion, she quickly gathers herself and gives me a remorseful look. “I’m sorry for my tone. That was uncalled for.”
“What’s going on with you, Grace? Something has been bothering you, I can tell. You can’t want me to open up to you, only for you to shut down on me.”
She groans. “Damn it, you’re right. It’s nothing serious, Rowan. I just know it’s my sister or mother calling.”
“Isn’t it good that they’re reaching out?”
“No.” She folds her arms and harrumphs. “They haven’t been calling because they give a rat’s ass about me. They’re just making sure I show up for the Golden Child’s stupid wedding.”
I rub a hand over my jaw to hide my smile at her cute pout. “The Golden Child is your sister, I presume?”
“Yup. I don’t know why I agreed to stand in as her bridesmaid last minute. I considered skipping the wedding, but now that I’m in it, I guess I have to show. You know me, Rowan, the guilt willkillme if I’m bitchy enough to ditch and leave Isabelle a bridesmaid short.”
“Yeah, I know you.” I allow my grin to surface. She’s too sweet to do something like that. It’s one of her most endearing qualities.
She throws her arms up. “There you have it, my big secret. I’m dreading going home next week to see my family. It’s going to be torture, standing alone against the wolves. I might not come back in one piece.”
“Next week? For how long?”
“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner. I guess I was just trying to avoid the subject altogether. I’ll be gone about five days.”
She looks so miserable, I’m already calculating if I can get five days off. Fuck it. I’ll make it happen. “Maybe you don’t have to stand against the wolves alone.”
Her eyes snap to my face.
“I’ll go with you, if you want.”
“Seriously?” Relief flickers across her face. “I thought about asking you to be my plus one, but I didn’t want to bother you...”
