Eight

Julia

“I really, really wanted to tell you,” Heidi said with a sheepish grin a few hours later.

We were at Emery and Jensen’s house before we were going to head out to the Art Trail. It was still strange that Heidi and Emery didn’t live together. I was used to showing up at their little apartment and finding them both being ridiculous. Their love affair was legendary. I was just lucky to fit in with their tight bond.

Though, at first, when Emery had come back from college, I’d felt a bit like a third wheel. Not anymore…at least not for the most part.

“It’s fine,” I muttered. “I cannot believe that Jensen is stepping down.”

“I’m so glad,” Emery said, appearing in black shorts, a black tank, and black Converse.

Sometimes, I swore, she and I had been separated at birth.

“Oh, look, you match,” Heidi singsonged, glancing between Emery and me. “I’m so shocked.”

“Okay, Barbie,” Emery said, smacking Heidi’s ass as she passed.

Emery really wasn’t far off. Heidi’s favorite color was hot pink, and she wore it all the time. Though Emery had tried to convince me that this was a step back for Heidi’s color choices…I found it hard to believe.

“Oh, do it again.” Heidi winked and bent over at the waist.

Emery laughed. “I love your face.”

“And my ass?”

“What ass?” I asked with a laugh.

“Don’t be jealous of my ass,” Heidi said.

“Oh, she’s not,” Emery said. “Julia has it all.”

“Anyway, like I was saying before I was interrupted,” Heidi said with an eye roll, “Morgan is so up for the task, and this will make Jensen happy.”

“So much happier,” Emery added.

“Right…but why don’t they have a CFO already?” I asked.

Heidi and Emery exchanged the glance. The one that said they both knew more than they were supposed to tell.

“It’s not really our place,” Emery said softly.

“It’s stupid really,” Heidi added. “They just want a broad search.”

I wanted to ask the obvious question—why not Austin? But I couldn’t seem to get the words out. Asking about Austin was like opening a can of worms.

“Okay,” I said with a shrug, like I didn’t really care. “Are we ready to go then?”

“Yep!” Heidi crooned. “We’re picking Morgan up along the way?”

“We are?” Emery asked.

“Oh, didn’t I tell you? I invited her to have girls’ night with us to celebrate her promotion.”

“So, we’re a foursome,” I said.

Emery raised her eyebrows at me. “Now, you’re talking.”

I laughed and followed them out to Emery’s Subaru Forester. We all jumped into the car and drove out to Morgan’s apartment complex. It was downtown and nearly walking distance to the office. A really ritzy, upscale kind of place with gates and a doorman. Heidi buzzed Morgan down and grinned when she realized that Morgan lived on the top floor. Because…of course, she did.

Morgan moved into the backseat, next to me. “Hey, Julia.”

“Morgan,” I said with a head nod.

“Thanks for inviting me, y’all,” Morgan said with a genuine smile.

I wondered if she had many girlfriends that she could do this kind of thing with. She didn’t really seem like the type. Maybe because I knew Jensen was kind of a loner, and Morgan was a smaller female version of her older brother.

But what did I know? I’d never been like this before either. Though…truth be told, it hadn’t all been my fault in the past.

“We’re super glad to have you with us,” Heidi said. “Now, let’s go hit up food trucks and wine.”

“Wine!” Emery cheered.

“Is there actually art to look at?” I asked.

Morgan cocked an eyebrow at me. “Have you never been to a First Friday Art Trail?”

“Nope.”

“Plenty of art to see,” Morgan told me. “But, first, wine.”

“That should be on a T-shirt,” Heidi said. “But, first, wine.”

“And they all said, Amen,” Emery muttered.

We parked in a parking lot with a big sign that said they were going to tow us if we parked there. I shot Heidi a look of unease, but she laughed at me. Apparently, all parking lots downtown were free game for the First Friday Art Trail. Where I came from, if we’d parked there, we wouldn’t have a car when we got back. Lubbock, man.

The weather was overcast and a little nippy as we meandered down the street to the main center where the food trucks were set up. I wish I had my bomber jacket, but again, I hadn’t been able to find it. If I’d lost it for good, I was going to be really pissed at myself.

We all bought some wine, and Heidi got an ice cream cone as well from the Blue Oasis food truck. Then, I finally got to walk into my first gallery.

A sigh escaped me. This was pure joy. Canvas after canvas was covered in beautiful paint, capturing an emotion, a person, a new discovery. Art was insight and power and passion. Art didn’t lie. It didn’t cheat. It didn’t hate. It just was. You took out of it whatever message you saw in it, but it was all beautiful. From the smallest photograph to the largest mural from a solo street dance performance to a symphony from a haiku to a full-blown novel. If art made you feel, then it had done its job.

I was so engrossed in the amazing work an artist had done with growing intricately designed plants in pots and creating an elaborate mural with tiny flora with soft, velvety green leaves that I’d almost completely forgotten that I was with a group. And I’d somehow downed my entire glass of wine. I couldn’t even remember putting it to my lips.

“I think I need another wine,” I said, catching Morgan’s eye nearby.

She held her empty glass up. “Same. I’ll walk with you.”

We waved our empty glasses at Heidi and Emery, who were arguing over a circular terrarium at the center of the room. They waved us off, and Morgan and I set off to refill our glasses.

“That was a cool exhibit,” Morgan said. “I’d never seen anything like that before.”

“Me either. I don’t have a green thumb whatsoever. I’m pretty sure I would kill every plant imaginable.”

“You and me both.”

“Are you excited about your new job?”

Something in Morgan shifted at that question. She stood a little taller. She smiled a little wider. Her eyes glittered.

“I’m ready to take over the world. It’s time.”

I laughed. “What are we doing tonight, Brain?”

“The same thing we do every night,” Morgan said with a grin.

“Drink wine?” I offered.

“Hell yes. I deserve some celebratory drinks. Like, ten at least.”

“Are you going to be able to stand?”

“God, I hope not.”

This was probably the most one-on-one time I’d ever spent with Morgan, and I was kicking myself, wondering why I’d never done it before. Probably because Morgan was a bit intimidating. She really had her shit together. She knew exactly who she was. And she showed no fear. It was enviable. Especially for someone like me.

“We should do this more often,” Morgan said. “How do you feel about trashy magazines and bad reality TV?”

“Um…guilty pleasure?”

“Great. We’re going to be best friends. Can we get matching tattoos?” she said with such a serious face that I had no idea if she was joking.

“I’m covered in tattoos. I’ll hold your hand.”

She sent me a secret little smile. “How do you know I don’t already have one?”

“Touché.”

We grabbed another glass of wine and were on our way back to the exhibit we’d left Heidi and Emery at when someone started catcalling Morgan’s name. Her eyes widened, and she shot around. I followed her in a circle, only to let my stomach drop to the concrete.

Austin.

“Morgan! Whoop!” Patrick called, whistling suggestively at her.

Her face bloomed a perfect shade of pink at the attention. But I could see that she enjoyed it. What got me was…Patrick was most certainly not alone.

“I’m not a dog. Stop whistling at me,” Morgan said.

Patrick laughed and threw an arm around her shoulders. “Ah, Mor, come on. Have a little fun.”

“Hey,” I said to Austin.

Austin’s dark eyes met mine, and I shivered.

“Hey.”

He looked sexy as hell. A light cotton button-up with the sleeves rolled up to reveal the tattoos hidden underneath. His hair was tousled, as if he’d been running his fingers through it. I envisioned myself gripping the longer strands on top and had to visibly reel it in. His stormy eyes seemed to sense where my thoughts had headed, and they sparkled with amusement. But I could also tell that he was loaded. I wasn’t surprised, especially after the announcement this afternoon. I would be, too.

“So,” Patrick said, leaning heavily on Morgan, “y’all coming to Louie Louie’s with us?”

“Dueling piano bar?” Morgan asked. “I’m in.”

“Jules?” Austin asked.

I gritted my teeth. Stupid fucking nickname. “We’re with Heidi and Em. We’ll have to ask them.”

“They’re in!” Morgan said. “Heidi already promised to get me wasted.”

“You’re getting wasted, and you didn’t call me?” Patrick asked, affronted.

Austin was unusually quiet. He and Patrick usually went back and forth, as if they were brothers more than best friends. But he was letting Patrick take the lead on his usual instigating, antagonistic personality, hardly saying a word.

I wondered what was going on up there. Is he pissed or resigned? Had he gotten over not being chosen for CFO? Or is he still in the running? Fuck, I didn’t know. And I couldn’t ask because asking would only cause an argument. Another one.

“Cool,” Austin said. “We’ll see you there then.”

“Let’s snag Mini Wright and our resident tatted up HR girl,” Patrick said while Morgan deflated at the choice nickname, “and have the Wright wifeys meet us there.”

“We’ve barely seen anything yet,” I said.

I was torn between wanting to look at all the exhibits and wanting to find out what had happened with Austin. Plus, Morgan obviously wanted to hang out with Patrick.

“I’ll walk the exhibits with you if y’all want to head to the bar early,” Austin offered.

Patrick’s head turned so fast that I thought he might have pinched a nerve. “You’re skipping the bar?”

“I’m meeting you there later,” he corrected. He held up his beer. “It’s not like this whole place isn’t open container.”

Patrick held his hands up. “All right, all right. We’ll save a table. Get the wifeys and meet us there. You up for that, Mor?”

She nodded vigorously. “I want to be thoroughly trashed by the time they meet up with us.”

“Challenge accepted,” Patrick said.

Austin punched him in the arm. “Hands off my sister.”

But Patrick looked back at him like he was totally insane. As if he had never thought of Morgan as anything other than his own sister. In that moment, I felt a bad for her. The girl was on top of the world, and her crush didn’t even know that she wanted to be on top of him instead.

“Dude,” was all Patrick said before walking away with Morgan.

“Dear God, he is oblivious,” I muttered.

“Tell me about it.”

“Oh my God, did we just have a conversation without arguing?”

“You look fucking hot,” he said in response.

I rolled my eyes. Well, that was close. “You’re a pig.”

“Really? Because I think I just got you more time to look at all the art you’re dying to see. Otherwise, you would have been dragged away to see drunks singing Bon Jovi and Journey at the tops of their lungs. A simple thank you would suffice.”

I bit my lip to keep from snapping that he hadn’t done me a favor. Everything Austin did was self-motivated. I just didn’t know what his motivation was here.

“Fine,” I settled for instead.

“Fine,” he said, nudging me toward another exhibit.

“Let me tell Heidi and Emery first.”

I jogged over to the landscape exhibit and informed them as to what was going on. They did another one of their all-knowing looks and then told me to have a good time. It was not a date. It wasn’t. No matter what their sly grins said.

“This one is my favorite,” Austin admitted.

“This one has been here before?”

He shrugged. “Once or twice.”

I narrowed my eyes in his direction, wondering how this was going to be a trick, but still, I followed him anyway. It might be stupid. I still hadn’t figured out what the fuck he wanted from all of this. But my feet carried me up the few steps and into the next building.

But what I saw on the inside stopped me in my tracks.

This is Austin’s favorite? This is the one he wants to show me?

Did I even know him at all?

On all the walls in perfect little picture frames were children’s artwork. Unicorns and robots and horses and rainbows and a Technicolor burst of color from every frame. Under each piece of artwork was the child’s first name and age.

Katherine, seven.

Jimmy, twelve.

Aiden, four.

But what really got me, after I passed the first wall in awe of all the little boys and girls who had created something important to them, was the sign proclaiming where the art had come from. Not an elementary school, as I had expected.

“They’re foster kids?” I whispered, my eyes glazing over, as I turned to face Austin.

He nodded. “They’re supposed to draw something that inspires them. I hate that there are so many kids in Lubbock without a forever home, but I’m glad we have programs like this that help kids in need by getting donations from the local community.”

He dropped a few bills into the donation box at the front of the room and then continued to look at every single picture with perfect care.

This man. This man. My argumentative, drunken, narcissistic asshole. The one who caused me so much pain and anger and lust. The person who I’d thought I had completely figured out. He was the one who had just confided in me about this.

My heart melted.

Just a sliver, for him.