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Logan crinkled his brow in mild confusion. “And what is it that you’re working on, exactly?”
Marianne reached over and gave him a playful shove. “I can’ttellyou, that would ruin the surprise! But if you get your big butt in here, I can show you!”
With that, she opened the door and stepped inside.
“You too, Em! I mean, your butt’s not as big as Logan’s, but you get what I’m saying.”
Logan and I shared a look of amusement at his sister’s words.
Things between Logan and I had been strange. I’d made the decision to give him the cold shoulder after the way he’d treated me when we’d slept together. As time went on, however, I was finding it harder and harder to do.
Of course, how goddamn hot he was didn’t help matters. Logan was dressed casually, in khaki-colored linen pants, black loafers and a navy-blue button up shirt. He was the perfect blendof island cool and New York professional, and it was nearly impossible to take my eyes off him.
“Come on,” he said to me. “Let’s see what my sister has to show us.”
Without waiting for my reply, he headed into the room. I followed.
The studio was beautiful, the back wall one big window that looked out over the ocean, the sun setting in the distance with gorgeous colors over the water, the palms spread out before us, the water sparkling as though it were magical. The other walls were covered in paintings, all of them hidden behind cloth. A table in the middle of the room was packed with painting supplies. An easel was in the center of the space, the painting it held also covered.
“This place is amazing,” I said. “But… can I look at any of these?”
Marianne shook her head. “I can show you all my projects later. I like to keep them covered when I’m working—it makes it easier to focus on what’s in front of me. And with what I’m working on now, I want it to have all of my attention.”
Logan stepped over to the easel, taking the fabric cover and lifting it a bit.
“How long are you going to keep us in suspense for, Mar?”
Marianne’s hand shot out, giving her brother a quick rap on the knuckles.
“Not so fast!” she exclaimed. “I need to introduce it.”
Logan dropped the cloth, another amused smile on his face. “Fine, fine.”
Marianne took her position in front of the easel, clasping her hands behind her back and squaring her shoulders. When she was ready, she cleared her throat and began.
“I don’t paint people very often,” she said. “People can be complicated, and hard to draw. Not to mention that noteveryone wants to sit still for a painting. So, for this piece, I decided to paint the only person I know so well that I didn’thaveto have him sit down—I know his face by memory.”
She turned to Logan and smiled.
“It’s you!” she said, beaming. “I think it’s my best painting ever. Well, so far, at least.” Marianne glanced away for a moment, as if giving the matter some serious thought. The smile returned to her face, and she gave a crisp nod, seemingly deciding that yes, this was her best painting ever.
“You did a painting of me?” Hesitancy edged his words.
Concern appeared on Marianne’s face. “Are you mad? I mean, no one else has to see it. I just thought it’d be nice, you know?”
Logan offered an easy smile, placing his hand on his sister’s arm.
“Not mad at all. Just surprised.”
Marianne grinned. “That was the idea. I wanted it to be a fun surprise!”
My eyes went to the easel, curiosity building by the moment. I’d noticed in the main house that there weren’t any pictures of Logan, Marianne, or any other family members. Logan didn’t seem to be sentimental in that way at all. The idea of him having a painting of himself seemed odd. All the same, I couldn’t wait to see what Marianne had created.
“I can’t wait!” I said, clasping my hands together.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that Logan was still hesitant. He stood with his brow furrowed, his hand on his chin.
“Alright! Without further ado…” She took the cloth by the top and lifted it, exposing the painting.
