I dropped onto my couch after shutting the door of my studio apartment. I didn’t care that I was covered in sweat, and I didn’t care that my clothes smelled like a workhorse. I was exhausted from moving, organizing, and cleaning, and all I wanted to do was rest. I couldn’t wait for construction to begin on my gallery. I’d called my sister right after Bryan had left that day, telling her what had just happened and the deal I had been cut. Of course, she went into protective mode and did some digging into B.D. Construction, but all she found was reputable, reliable material along with rave reviews from people who lived in the residential homes they built.

“It’s interesting,” she had said. “They don’t really delve into commercial properties.”

“Maybe they’re branching out?” I had asked.

“Just make sure he sticks to his end of the bargain. Get it in writing, get it signed, and get it to me.”

So, that’s exactly what I’d done. Bryan had come by a few days later with the official paperwork, and I looked for all the key pieces of information my sister told me to look out for. On the payment line, it said “fifty thousand dollars plus up to five pieces of artwork of the contractor’s choosing,” and it had a finished date of anywhere between July and August. I was happy with what I saw, so I signed, then I sent off a copy for my sister to look over.

She was very pleased with what she saw, which made me all the more excited about the days to come.

I was ecstatic that I’d hired someone who saw the potential I did. I’d gotten to know him a bit and was absolutely giddy with excitement when he told me his terms. He had a passion to help the community like I did, and that was the sign I needed to know I was hiring the right person for the job. He not only understood my community outreach spirit, but he engaged in it himself, and I was more than honored for my art gallery to be part of his portfolio.

Anything to help a business that held the same values mine would.

But still, that stab of guilt was there kicking me in the kidney. I wasn’t being completely honest with him. I’d lied to him about being at that memorial service, and I’d kept my mouth shut on the painting he had held. I could see it in his eyes, how drawn to it he had become. When he requested that one of the paintings I give him be that one, it didn’t shock me in the slightest.

But it did have me very, very worried.

I’d have to tell him before I handed those paintings over. I’d have to tell him about what had happened in Los Angeles all those years ago.

A shiver ran down my spine as I thought about how that conversation might go.

But even still, the art I had stowed away deserved to see the light of day. It needed to reach the masses. All of them. All of the art therapy students I’d taken on, the ones who had passed before their time and the ones who had given in to the darkness and couldn’t claw their way back and the spirit of the people who inspired the track my art now took. It all deserved to bask in the glory of the beauty of this earth.

It deserved to create its own pocket of peace.

I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath. My mind automatically drifted back to his tattoos. The more he was around, the more I got a better look at them. The 3-D spiral pattern looked as if it descending into his arm. The shaded geometric pattern still mesmerized me to this day. I finally got a better look at that rose on his arm during our meeting, and I realized the rose petals weren’t rose petals at all but a piano keyboard shaped to the outline of rose petals.

I wanted to ask him where his inspiration for that one came from. Maybe he played piano or his parents had. Maybe he was just a fan of music.

Maybe John had even played.

Those tattoos sat on a bed of muscles that no one could deny. While my eyes were always grazing up and down his tattoos, fascinated with his ability to choose and be happy with them for the rest of his life, I had to admit his arms were incredibly defined. They rippled and flexed with every movement they made. He definitely worked more on his job sites than he’d let on in our meeting. I could see his broad shoulders, the muscle mounds lightly rising over his collarbone before they blended into his strong, thick neck.

I could still feel his broad, solid chest against mine as I reveled in how warm his body had been when I hugged him.

My cell phone ringing interrupted my thoughts. I’d been biting my lower lip even though I hadn’t been aware of it, and I cleared my throat as I reached for my phone. Anna was calling. Probably wondering if construction had begun yet. I took a deep breath and tried to clear the lust from my voice before I answered the phone.

The last thing she needed to know was how incredibly handsome the leader of this project was.

“Hey there, sis,” I said.

“Hey! So, question. How do you feel about me coming to visit soon?”

“Funny, I thought you were calling about the business,” I said, grinning.

“Well, I thought I’d plan my visit around the time the construction started. You have any idea when that’s supposed to take place?”

“Some guys have already been around there, making notes and getting equipment set up, so they should start any day now,” I said.

“Perfect. Fancy a sister weekend?” she asked.

“Well, I’m going to be pretty busy with the gallery. I’ll be spending a lot of time there, especially once they start on the interior decorating part of things.”

“Which was why I wanted to hit this at the beginning. You know, when they’re still updating shit you’re clueless on.”

“Oh, a cuss word. Something’s gone down in Anna’s life. Talk to me, sis. You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Work’s kind of getting to me, I guess,” she said.

“You know what might help with that?” I asked.

“What?”

“Singing lessons.”

“Or I could get laid.”

“Yep. Work’s really getting to you then,” I said. “When were you thinking of coming?”

“I figured maybe around the Fourth of July? Just for a few days, nothing long term. We could do a little cookout, maybe feed the workers on the site or something.”

“They won’t work. It’s a federal holiday,” I said.

“Then we could cook for them or something beforehand. I don’t know. Something fun.”

“Feeding a bunch of sweaty construction workers is fun?” I asked.

“Sweaty, you say?”

“Most of them will be homeless men,” I said.

“Wait, what?” she asked.

“Yeah. That was one of the stipulations to hiring B.D. Construction. That’s how they do community outreach. They hire a homeless person or two to come work. Give them a paycheck. Clean them up. Get them some work experience. It’s really awesome. I’ve hired someone who holds sort of the same morals I do,” I said.

I heard the rustling of papers in the background as I sighed into the phone.

“Anna.”

“Hold on. I’m just checking the paperwork,” she said.

“Anna. It’s not a big deal.”

“Yes, it is. If one of those men steals some of your artwork, I want to make sure they’re liable for the price.”

“Anna, come on. Seriously?” I asked.

“I just want to protect you as much as possible. Ah. Yes. It’s in here. There are no explicit protections against stuff of yours they might steal or ruin, but I can talk with the project manager about that when I come down.”

“No, you won’t,” I said.

“Yes, I will. I’m going to protect your shit even if you don’t want to. Got it?”

“Yeah. You definitely need to come here for a few days,” I said.

“Around the fourth all right?” she asked.

“Yep. That’s just fine.”

“You don’t sound fine.”

I honestly wasn’t. With everything swirling around this project and the risks I was taking just hiring Bryan for this was enough. My head was spinning every night when I rolled into bed, and I knew my sister would be able to pinpoint it the moment she saw me. I’d have to do some serious prep work in order for me to cover my tracks and emotional states before she got here, and right now, just thinking about it made me exhausted.

“Oh, I see. I know what’s going on here.”

“You do?” I asked.

“And it’s about damn time you came clean,” she said.

“What?” I asked breathlessly.

“What’s his name?” she asked.

“Huh?”

“His name? The guy you’re hooking up with. You don’t want me there because it means staggering your fun little evenings, doesn’t it? Damn, I’m so glad you got out and found yourself a little piece. You’re too cooped up in that apartment.”

“I’m not hooking up with anyone, Anna.”

“Oh, you can tell me. It’s fine. What does he look like? What’s his name? Does he have a nice ass? I know you’ve always been an ass woman.”

“Anna. I just moved to San Diego. I don’t have a ‘piece of ass’ already. Yikes. You need a vacation,” I said.

“Which is why I’m so excited to be coming to see you.”

“Maybe we’ll get you laid while you’re down here,” I said.

“The project manager isn’t homeless, is he?” she asked.

I froze at her statement as Bryan’s face popped back up into my mind. Why was I so unwilling to answer her question?

“Oh, shit. It’s a woman, isn’t it? Oh well, better luck next time.”

“You’re the most insane human being when you’re pushed to your limits,” I said.

“Love you, too, sis. I can’t wait to see you. Thanks for letting me come down.”

“Anytime, Anna. Love you.”

“Get yourself laid,” she said.

“Get yourself a massage so you don’t murder people at your job,” I said.

I hung up the phone and groaned. If she was going to come here and badger me about how good looking Bryan was the entire time, it was going to be a long Fourth of July holiday. With construction starting at the beginning of June, Anna knew damn good and well she wasn’t coming at the beginning of the project. She was going to want to stick her nose in everything and make sure all the inside layouts were absolutely perfect. She was going to use these few days to try and live the free life I knew she wanted to live deep down.

Only she was going to control this project as a way to try and do it.

But even with my mind swirling the way it was, all I could do was lay on the couch and close my eyes. I only had a few more days until construction officially began, and that’s when I’d have to stay out of their way and trust they were doing the right thing for my gallery.

That was going to be the hardest part of all.