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“I’m sure. You can get other deals, but this one’s just too precarious, so maybe next time.”
They hung up. He kept the knowledge in that this was the fifth deal to fall out just because of his connection to the Hastings—or lack thereof—and his father had a point, but it wasn’t enough to make him change his mind. So, he left the café and wandered to his art studio, not stopping until he reached the unfinished sketch perched against a wall.
The lines were softer in the shadows, adding a vulnerability that made his fingers itch. But he already knew he wouldn’t make anything out of it, so he picked up his phone once more and dialed a number instead.
“Hello?”
Astonishment punched at her response because he wasn’t expecting her to pick up.
“I have an idea.”
“What idea?”
“Paint me. That will be the first piece.”
Silence echoed on the line. Alexa cleared her throat.
“Paint you?”
“Not literally,” he clarified in case she got the wrong picture. “I meant to let me be your muse while you start over.”
“I don’t have the—”
“Time? I know. We use the time you agreed to give me. Nothing more, nothing less. I pose for you and you paint what you see…whatever you are used to.”
“Why?”
He shrugged, unsure where his words were coming from. But he was certain this was the right take, the idea taking a brighter stage in his brain until it consumed. “I don’t know. Maybe I just need to see what you do because I’m curious. Maybe I need to draw inspiration from it.”
“Maybe you should stop until you find inspiration.”
“Exactly,” he agreed, hearing her breath hitch at how easily he latched on to it. “I’m stopping and you are starting.”
“But we agreed for six pieces…” He knew the moment it registered. “You didn’t say you would paint the six pieces.”
“You are smart.”
“And you are confusing.”
“There’s no need to make it complicated. It’s a simple adjustment to an agreement. Don’t you want to get this moving? Stagnancy means prolonging it.” A pause, then, “I can compensate you. A bonus, if you please.”
“Billy’s already compensating me.”
His eyes widened. “He is?”
“Yes.” A pause, the reluctance clear. “I’m his messenger, and this is work.”
Even her tone indicated she was bracing for him to get offended, yet all he felt was delight at the bastard’s way with words. But then again, Billy had always been charming and prone to getting anything he wanted.
That didn’t mean Edmund backed off gracefully every time. Like now.
“So? This brings us back to a bonus. You need money or else you wouldn’t take your cousin’s. I need inspiration and I have funds to spare to find that inspiration, however I can. We don’t need to look far when we already have this deal. It’s a ribbon tied up to suit our fancy.”
“Gee, sounds perfect.”
“Sarcasm suits you, but I need an answer,” he returned.
There was a strangled sound verging on a laugh, nudging his hopes up. Then it was dashed at her next word.
