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“I’ll give you the other half when you’ve finished both murals.”
Dumbstruck, she stammered like an idiot. “The—the other half?”
“I assume that’s okay?” he asked mildly.
Was it hot in here all of the sudden? Why did it feel like there was a tightening noose around her neck? What the hell had her greed led her into?
Increasing desperation made her fling out the only remaining excuse she could find. “Maybe your cousins don’t think I’m the right artist for the lobby mural.”
“Good point.” Twisting at the waist, Tony looked to Marcus and Cooper, both of whom were bent over one of her paintings, murmuring and pointing. “So what do we think?” Tony called.
Marcus backed up a step, cocking his head to look at the painting from another angle. “She’s got potential, but the work is still immature.”
Ouch.
“So we don’t want her for the lobby mural?” Tony asked.
Marcus moved closer to the painting again, squinting at her brushstrokes. “I didn’t say that. In a couple of years, I expect she’ll be getting six figures a pop. I’m seeing flashes of brilliance here.”
Talia stilled, her queasiness fading as her insides launched into a happy dance. Brilliance? Did he say brilliance?
“I’m assuming she’s qualified for a project this size…?” Marcus continued.
Tony shot her a questioning glance. “Are you qualified?”
Was she qualified? Screw him! “I have an MFA from Columbia.”
“She’s qualified,” Tony informed them. “Coop?”
Cooper stood a couple of paintings down from his brother, studying a canvas so hard she was tempted to offer him a magnifying glass. He waved a hand. “I’m sure she’ll be fine.”
“I think that’s everything,” Tony said. “Do we have a deal?”
No. No, they did not have a deal. Things were moving much too quickly for her. What had happened to the quiet life she’d had a mere fifteen minutes ago? Why couldn’t she shake the feeling that nothing would ever be the same after this?
“I’m not sure I should trust you,” she blurted.
Tony stilled. “Let me make sure I understand what you’re saying. You think that I’m so wild about you that I manufactured a reason to work with you, coughed up a ridiculous amount of money and dragged my cousins down here to meet you, all with less than twenty-four hours’ notice? Is that right?”
This, naturally, made her feel like a narcissistic peacock, and her face flushed accordingly as she began the painful process of backtracking.
“Of course not. But I’m just not sure—”
“You know what?” Tony wheeled around and headed for the door, snapping his fingers and signaling for his cousins to follow. They did without a word, falling in line behind him. “This isn’t going to work out. Sorry we wasted your time. Have a nice day.”
Tony’s hand was on the knob when something came over her.
Screw it. Fear already owned far too big a chunk of her life. She wasn’t going to let it rob her of this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, as well.
“Wait!” she called, the check pressed to her chest.
Tony paused but didn’t deign to face her again.
“When do I start?” she asked.
“Today’s Friday, so I think Monday is a good time. Have a bag packed so my driver can bring you out to the house tomorrow night. He’ll pick you up at three. Oh, and he’ll pick you up this afternoon for a visit to the auction house. You can get a feel for that mural, as well, but I want you to do the one at the house first.”
“Wait, what?” Her brain slipped and slid, having so much trouble keeping up that she felt like a three-year-old struggling to ice skate for the first time. “A bag—?”
Tony’s head came around, and the unmistakable gleam of triumph in his eyes made a hard lump of dread solidify in her stomach.
Another shoe was about to drop on her head—a big one.
“Oh, didn’t I mention?” he asked. “You’ll have to live on the estate for the duration of the project. Naturally.”
“Wait a minute,” she cried. “I didn’t agree to—”
