“My darling, are you ready?”

Janie couldn’t help but smile like a lovesick lunatic. That term of endearment was so corny when most people said it, but when Dave used it, it sounded sweet and affectionate. She heard his love in the words. It made her heart squish.

“Yes.” She exited the bathroom into the master bedroom, which she now shared with Dave. What used to be her room was now her art studio. It wasn’t as big as the one in Colton’s house, which was still set up for her use, but this tiny apartment was home. She could wander in there whenever she got an idea, clothed or not, and go to work. Often, she’d come out of her art daze to find Dave standing in the doorway, sometimes with a cup of coffee, sometimes a soda or beer, and often with a boner.

They had sex a lot.

Her Arizona money had run out over the two months since she and Dave had become a couple, and at the moment, she and her art were being almost entirely supported by Dave. She did a few humdrum paintings to place at the art galleries every so often, matching the pieces that seemed to be popular—the guys had been stalking—and those were actually selling, but they weren’t high-dollar sells, and she had to split half the proceeds with the gallery.

Dave was also supporting his mother, who lived on the other side of the apartment complex, and came over more than any mother ever should. Sure, she was a nice woman when she was sober, which she was and planned on continuing to be, but still…she was the mother of Janie’s boyfriend. It was weird having her hang around all the time. Especially due to their past…and the threats.

With two people relying on Dave, he had to be feeling the pinch, especially now that he’d quit the lucrative business of escorting. But he smiled more than he ever had. Laughed louder. Loved harder. He seemed so completely happy that the money strain didn’t appear to bother him. He kept saying that they had each other, and they had enough—it was more than he’d ever expected out of life.

So she stressed for the both of them. She’d sell humdrum crap all over town if it meant he could have his cake and eat it too.

She squirted herself with perfume and checked herself out in the full-length mirror. The sleek black dress hugged her in all the right places before fanning out over her legs. She looked like a chic goth princess.

At least, that was what Ethan had said when he surprised her with it. He’d worried she would look like a hobo at her own art show. Which would’ve been fine, since no one knew who she was or that she was the artist.

Come to think of it, that was probably why he’d bought the dress. His mother had never been able to have a show like the one they’d rigged up for Janie. Ethan was living vicariously through her.

She blew out a breath as butterflies surged through her stomach.

Dave waited in the front room wearing a black tailored suit that showed off his wide shoulders leading down into his trim hips. It made him look powerful and sexy at the same time.

“Hey, baby.” She sauntered toward him, her heart fit to burst. She was so thankful he was in her life. That it had worked out. She couldn’t imagine being happier with anyone else. Or this much in love.

His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. “You are stunning.” She smiled at him, and he blinked stupidly. “So beautiful, Janie. Would a quickie ruin all your stuff?”

She laughed. “Yes.”

He held out his arm, and she glided between it and his body, closing her eyes when he hugged her close.

“Are you nervous?” he asked, kissing down her neck.

“Very. I don’t really want to see people’s reactions in person.”

“You will. They’ll love it. We have it set up perfectly, and the buzz is unreal. I’ve been getting emails constantly. Constantly. Social media has blown up—”

“This is not helping my raging butterfly issue.”

“Right, sorry.”

In the last two months, Dave had been incredibly busy getting the show together. He was managing everything. The website was live, but only a couple of the paintings had been revealed. The rest were blocked off with shading and a question mark. He’d created a social media presence for her pen name, Chris Perrin, which was cloaked in mystery. Then he’d used all the BD (and former BD) guys’ connections and social media accounts to boost the news of the show, the mystery of her, and the tantalizing (yet censored) portrait of him in the buff. He’d even run ads. The man was on fire.

Dick’s website, as unprofessional as Madison called it, seemed to work in her favor, too. People loved the vibe of it.

What Janie hadn’t expected were the dozens of fitness people and models, women and men alike, who’d asked Dave to hook them up with the painter so they could get their portraits done. That had been a surprise.

But they couldn’t afford the giant price tag to meet her in person. Dave was knowingly cutting off a revenue stream, as he called it, to feed the propaganda beast. He said it would pay off.

She always just shrugged and changed the subject. She trusted him.

He softly kissed her lips so as not to disturb her lipstick. “Ready?”

Because no wasn’t an option, she nodded.

“My mother is going to ride with us. Do you mind?” He opened the door for her.

“Yes! Dude, we’ve talked about this. You cannot have your mother go to this. You’re on display. Naked! With an erection! No, Dave. Seriously, call that off. I’ll die of embarrassment. Or she will.”

“I told her all about. I showed her the lure. She still wants to go.”

The lure was the censored image of him that promised people they’d get to see the whole thing if they showed up. Peen and all.

A lot of people were into that idea. Like…into that idea. It was probably the best piece of marketing he’d come up with to draw in women.

In the car, she just kept shaking her head, overly conscious of Betty’s presence. “I didn’t want to show them, Betty. The paintings of Dave, I mean. Just know that. He wanted to. This is his fault. I had planned to burn them.”

“It’s okay. I’m sure they’re lovely.”

Janie just kept shaking her head. Betty had no idea. None. It was not going to work out well.

“Oh wow, look at this. You did a great job, honey.” As they approached the warehouse, Betty reached forward and patted Dave on the shoulder.

Yes, Janie should’ve let his aged mother sit up front, but Betty had a fierce stubborn streak, it turned out, and she always flat-out refused. So Janie just had to look like a jerk whenever they went somewhere together.

It was probably a subtle way of getting back at Janie for the whole threatening incident.

“Thanks, Mom.” Dave smiled as he found a space in the almost-full parking lot. Beams of light raced across the sky from the front of the once-ramshackle warehouse. A red carpet lined with potted plants kept people from noticing the stained and half-crumbling condition of the cement walkway. White banners dropped from either side of the gaping bay door. Pixie lights ran across the front of the building, distracting from the broken and jagged windows.

It had been a real shithole, though cheap, when they’d first looked at it. Janie had thought Dave was mad. But she’d quickly realized his vision for this whole thing had been every bit as good as hers in actually painting.

“Here we go,” Dave said, holding out both of his arms. Janie took the one on the right and his mother the one on the left. He led them up the walkway slowly, maybe because he wanted time to show off his swagger, or maybe because he was afraid his mom would hit a divot and go careening.

“The others are already inside?” Janie asked quietly.

“Yes. We figured you should show up last so we’d have more people to block you in.”

“Dave, that’s awful,” his mother tsked.

“But true.” Janie scowled. She’d like nothing better than to take off.

The rise and fall of noise of the crowd blasted out of the large opening. By design, no paintings were visible as they walked up. Draped curtains and velvet-covered cube walls blocked off the rest of the space.

It turned out Betty was proficient at sewing, and also knew quite a bit about fabric. She’d been a great help with that side of things. And Janie hadn’t had to stalk her once.

“Oh God, I don’t want to do this,” she murmured, gripping Dave’s arm. “Why do I even have to be here?”

“You need to see how the spacial design is working. It’ll help us next time.” Dave bent to place a quick kiss to her temple.

Janie had basically designed the inside, deciding which paintings went where, working with Betty to achieve the right look of the material and draping, and where the lighting stands were placed.

It had turned out that Janie was a bit high maintenance when it came to showing her art. She hadn’t realized that about herself. Thankfully the others had chocked it up to her being an artiste, or she’d no longer have friends.

“That fabric looks even better in this lighting,” Betty said as they neared the door. Hardy, the newest member at Dick’s gym, stood off to the side, decked out in the same tailored excellence boasted by Dave and the guys. He’d been hired as a greeter, and judging by the power stance and stiff nods, he didn’t really get the essence of the role.

“Hey, bro.” Hardy nodded at Dave. “What’s up?” He nodded at Janie. “Hi.” That was for Betty. He glanced behind them at a group of five people, all dressed to the nines.

The event—that was what the art show was called, an event—was a formal affair. Those not fulfilling the dress code would be turned away.

Another reason Janie would’ve rather been dressed like a hobo.

She heard a gasp as the people in front of them disappeared behind a flowing curtain. As Dave followed, a world of people and art opened up around them. Hanging sheets of fabric, which had been a bitch to get up, moved and shimmied in the breeze from the open windows. The old-school light stands, picked out by Ethan, went perfectly with the rough shape of the buildings. Plants and flowers, teamed with the velvet-covered, moveable walls and the hanging drapes, softened their surroundings to the point of being comfortable.

Edgy chic was Janie’s new thing, and after this, it would stick.

Which was good. The humdrum crap she’d been doing lately bored her to tears.

“This is…” Betty stopped, making Dave stop with her, and put her hand to her chest. She hadn’t been there for the dress rehearsals. “Beautiful. Like a dream.”

Like a crackhead’s dream, maybe. Although, being that Betty’s move to a small apartment on the crappy side of town had been a step up, her reaction made sense.

“Can I slink off to a corner now?” Janie hunched against Dave’s arm.

“No. Stand up straight. You’re my date. They’ll have no idea you’re the creator unless you wander around like the hunchback of Notre Dame. Up!”

Dave started to move toward Colton, but Betty stopped them. “No, let’s go this way.” She pointed in the direction that basically started the journey.

So that worked, at least.

“Oh my God, it’s him! It’s Blaze!” A thirty-year-old woman was reduced to clutching her friend and squealing like a girl.

Janie took a big breath. Being known as his date would be way worse than being known as the artist, she was pretty sure.

“Oh my word.” Betty pointed at the first painting. “Very pretty.” The next received a “Neat.” The third: “Oh, look.”

As far as critics went, Janie would take those responses any day.

“Hey, brother.” Ethan sauntered toward them with an aura of happiness. He looked around. “Am I right?”

“What did he say?” Betty asked, probably thinking Ethan had actually asked a relevant question that she had somehow missed.

“I’d hoped the parking lot would be full by now.” Dave shook his head and glanced behind him. A woman’s eyes lit up with recognition. A smile slid up her face.

“It only opened an hour and a half ago.” Ethan waved off the comment and smiled at a woman passing by. “The dick is in the back.”

“There are a couple of dicks right here,” Janie muttered. She couldn’t let a joke like that pass her by. It would have been sacrilege.

“In another hour, you watch. We’ll have to start counting heads to make sure we don’t go over capacity. This is an excellent turnout so far. Excellent. I am thrilled.” Ethan looked at Janie, his eyes sparkling. “Your horrible surprise is here. You look beautiful, by the way.”

“Are you serious? C’mon, this night sucks enough. Or wait…” Janie narrowed her eyes at Ethan. “Is just being here the horrible surprise?”

“No. Judging by your face, this is just horrible. No, the surprise is in the back.” He winked at another woman passing by. “Oh, and that creepy guy from Arizona is here.”

“Are you serious?” Janie’s repeated question sounded more like a whine. She’d known they were planning to contact him because she’d overheard them talking about it—they weren’t as good at stealth as she was. But she’d never heard anything more about it, nor had she asked. “So that’s the horrible surprise?”

“Nope. I don’t even think that one is horrible, actually. He bid on Dave’s portrait and left a note saying he’d beat any other offer. He stared at Dave’s…” Ethan smiled and turned to Betty, as though just remembering she was there. “Having fun?” he asked her. She confusedly answered in the affirmative before he turned back. “For long enough that I’m pretty sure he wanted to un-mellow that yellow. He is definitely into that side of things.”

“I doubt the thing with Janie was sexual,” Dave murmured, half turning away from his mother. She didn’t have great hearing, thankfully. “I love watching her paint. She is entrancing. She’s art in herself. I’m sure that’s all it was.”

“He’d better hope, with you all riled up.” Ethan softly punched Dave and quickly turned, falling in step with a lone woman as though he’d showed up with her. Her startled look turned quickly into a smile when she noticed his face and body.

“Let’s power through this.” Janie took a glass of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter. Another waiter made the rounds with cheese. All of the appetizers were simple, and besides the champagne, they only had beer and wine set up in the back.

As they moved, slow enough for Betty to take a look and for Janie to pick out every flaw, she heard snippets of conversations.

“I love the way…”

“These colors here are…”

“I don’t get it.”

They turned a corner and, suddenly, there he was. The man of the hour. Dave himself, raised higher than the other paintings and on a wall of his very own. Fabric billowed around him. Flowers dotted the space. People pointed, giggled, nodded in approval, or dropped a bidding card into the box. There was one of those set beside each of the paintings.

“Betty!” Madison swooped in out of nowhere, and Janie would bet she’d lingered close by for just such an occasion. “Can I get you a drink? Of water! Here, come look at this one.”

Madison flashed Janie a what is she doing here, you moron? look before she led the older woman away.

“I’m hot,” Dave said, strolling toward his portrait on the moveable cube wall covered in blood-red velvet.

“Please don’t flash these people to prove that your penis is really that big.”

“No promises.” He smiled as he greeted someone he clearly knew, and who clearly knew him. Intimately.

Janie’s insides tightened.

“Blaze, hi!” The woman reached forward for a hug, which Dave thankfully turned into a handshake. “It’s been too long. I heard you quit the…” She looked around dramatically. “You know.”

“I did. I met my future wife.” He put his arm around Janie. “No one else would do.”

The woman’s face fell. Janie wanted to punch her in the face for touching her man in the past, but she also felt a little bad for her. No one wanted to hear they hadn’t been enough.

“This is Janie,” he said, smiling down at her.

“Oh.” The woman stuck out a hand. Janie shook it. “Nice to meet you. And you’re okay with…” She indicated the paintings.

Janie shrugged. “As okay as I am with any factual body of work. A big dick should be shown off, am I right?”

Dave laughed and squeezed her, excused himself, and moved on. “That might happen a few times. After we walk through, I’ll let you head toward Madison. She’ll know how you feel. Before you light anyone’s hair on fire or anything, please remember you are my one and only, and will be for the rest of my life.” He stopped and turned toward her, not far from his painting, and she got the feeling he was making a statement to everyone around them. “The most I will ever touch another woman is a hug. If she gets grabby, she will be removed. You can trust me implicitly, Janie. I would never do anything to disrespect you.”

She threaded her arms around his neck. “I know.”

“I love you,” he said, and leaned his lips down to hers.

She fell into the kiss, eyewitnesses or no. Warmth filled her body and passion curled her toes. When he backed off, people clapped.

“Let’s see how magnanimous you are when we meet Mr. Creepy Rich Guy,” Janie said quietly.

The smile dripped off his face.

She laughed and entwined her fingers with his. They didn’t have far to go before she caught sight of the man who, for years, had flown her to his mansion and paid her to paint naked. “Creepy alert. Prepare yourself.”

Dave wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

“Janie, hello.” Rusty, a balding and hunched man in his forties, walked their way with a slight limp. His gaze lingered on Dave for a moment too long before drifting down his body.

Dave shivered. Clearly he was also creeped out, but for a different reason.

“Hi, Rusty, so good of you to come.” Janie smiled placidly.

“I wouldn’t miss it. As I’m sure you know, this is just the beginning. I was lucky to get the artist before she spread her wings. Now I fear I will have to compete for your work.” His gaze slid over to Dave again, the glance shorter this time. Dave shivered just as much, and his hand tightened on Janie’s shoulder. Rusty looked away from them at the art show in full swing. “This is spectacular. The art is not the only part of the gloriousness, of course. You have outfitted it with the perfect vibe. You’ve created an event out of a show. I am deeply impressed.”

“That was Dave. His ideas are really great.”

Rusty’s watery brown gaze came back to them. “Yes. His portrait is exactly what I’ve been looking for with you, Janie. Exactly. Not just blind lust—I can see the deep love behind it as well. It is one of a kind. I will cherish it. I will do anything to have it.”

He must’ve misunderstood ideas and thought she’d said body.

“Oh, Janie. Dave.” Ethan drifted up. He ignored Rusty completely. “The interview with Mick Jenkins is ready.”

Rusty jolted as if that name meant something.

“Come with me, please.” Still not paying attention to Rusty, Ethan motioned Janie and Dave his way. When they were somewhat removed, he said, “That is, quite possibly, the strangest man I have ever met. He has a stare that goes right through you. I have revised my earlier statement. I do not want to be naked in his presence.”

“Exactly. Although with Dave, that creepy was way more sexual. Gross.” Janie matched Dave’s earlier shiver.

“Never again, my darling,” Dave said in a rough tone. “You will never sit and paint for that man again.”

“I totally would. And I’d probably make you go, just so I could laugh.” Janie let Ethan lead them to a little back area behind the bar that was closed off with the moveable walls. “I’ve met a lot of creepy guys in my life. Like you, Ethan, as an example.”

“I’m a lovable kind of creepy. That man is not. He’s probably a genius with social issues, but I don’t care. He gives me the heebie-jeebies. I’m not into that. He does not get to see my dong.”

“Wow. Just when I think you are talking sense. So who is Mick Ja—”

“Jenkins. He’s the nation’s premier art critic. Harsh, but usually has his finger directly on the pulse. If he gives you a nod, you are in. He tore my mom up. Really demolished her. It wasn’t undeserved, but he doesn’t pull the punches. He owes me a favor. I took his very unfortunate-looking daughter to prom once. I was the cool kid, and she was…not. She got style points on my behalf.”

“Did he pay you?” Janie asked as they stopped by the bar. Dave put another glass of champagne in her hand.

“Of course he did. It was my senior prom. He paid me a lot. Don’t worry; she was still a virgin when I took her home, and I was able to get laid at a party afterward.”

“Yes, because I was really worried about that.” Janie rolled her eyes.

“He was the one that initially came up with an escort service idea.” Dave looked back out over the crowd, zeroing in on the line of people waiting to pay for overpriced drinks. “It was a joke at that point.”

“So why does he owe you a favor if he paid you?” Janie asked, edging away. The last thing in the world she wanted to do was sit with a stuffy art critic who would tear her apart as soon as he could print his opinion.

“Because she stopped getting picked on after prom.” Ethan spread his hands. “For her, I made high school less awful. Okay, ready?”

“Just to clarify, this is the horrible surprise, is it not?”

His smile stopped a woman in her tracks. She stared like she’d just seen an alien.

He really was that hot, which was why he got away with so much.

“Yes, it is.” He laughed. “C’mon.”

The interview went how those things always did for Janie. Awkward. Stilted. Frustrating. Dave tried his damnedest to run interference, but he had a hard time of it. Especially when questions like “What could’ve possibly possessed you to display a nude portrait of a man in the height of arousal?” were answered, “He’s hot, his dick is huge, and I don’t care about prudes like you.”

“A shabby warehouse? That screams poor and desperate.”

“Does it? Or does it scream of your age and inability to enjoy anything other than a gold-lined bathtub?”

“It is clear the journey of love ends in a bad place, yet here is your love sitting beside you. Your art is a lie.”

“Or maybe the ancient lens with which you view the world isn’t picking up on the subtleties. It isn’t a lie—it is an episode in life’s journey. We have millions of episodes. That particular episode ended as you saw. And it was that last painting that made the man I will marry realize that if he didn’t act right then, he’d lose me forever. As you can see, he found his courage.”

When they were done, the old codger stared at her, his eyes hard and piercing. Finally, he clicked off the tape recorder and leaned back, crossing an ankle over his knee.

“I’m impressed,” he said, the grumpy, hard-hitting approach melting away. “This all screamed of a contrived event attempting a hot new approach to the market. I’ve seen many of them over the years. A big firm hires a promising young talent, such as yourself, slaps a marketing budget on her, and then stamps out substandard replicas of other people’s art.” He adjusted his position. “But you aren’t that at all. You’re the real deal. And all this… Was that your doing as well, or did you hire a contractor?”

Janie hooked a thumb at Dave, much more relaxed now that she wasn’t being attacked. “This was all him and his friends. I did the art and spatial setup, and he did everything else, including the buzz. He also insisted I sell that portrait of him. I only agreed for his huge ego.”

Mick laughed. “He made the right choice. That painting, as unconventional as it is, is the crowning piece to the whole event. It’s the wow factor that is so hard to find anymore. I stared at it for longer than I normally would a painting, even a work by one of the masters, because…I was drawn to it. I felt that way about many of your paintings.” He scratched his nose and shifted again. “And that is the thing with your art, Janie. May I call you Janie?”

He waited for her nod. “You’re young, and you’re untrained. You’re raw, and not necessarily in a good way. Despite that, or maybe because of it, you evoke a sort of”—his hand made a sort of claw, and he moved it over his chest—“equally raw emotion. It is inescapable. More than intriguing the eyes, you intrigue the soul. That is so very rare. Normally I would encourage a person with your ability to seek out schooling. To hone her gift. But I worry…” He leaned forward and looked at the ground. “I worry that polish would smooth away the very qualities that make your art stand out. Especially with Mr. Miller putting on shows like this.”

“I’ve tried a few art classes in the past,” Janie said, uncomfortable. She didn’t like people trying to read her. “I didn’t like the style they tried to teach me. It was boring. I’ll do it to make money if I have to, but that’s not the art I would prefer to create.”

“No, no.” He nodded and looked up, back to analyzing her. “For most people, I would say that they made a bad choice. But you can carry this…rawness. You can, and are, capitalizing on it in the best of ways. I think what you are doing is working. Clearly. Look at the turnout for a brand-new, no-name artist. You can speak to a younger demographic in a way that isn’t happening anywhere else right now. And I think this style of event is selling your art so much better than any gallery ever could.” He nodded, as though that were the solution he’d been looking for. “Yes, I look forward to exploring this more.”

“Great.” It wasn’t really. She leaned forward, and then stood when he did, heaving a sigh now that the interview was actually over.

“And the anonymity is also intriguing. I’m glad my profession allows me to meet the woman behind the art. I never would’ve imagined it was you. You carry yourself with such hard, scrappy confidence, yet your art is all about vulnerability, wistful purity, naive hopefulness. It speaks of a different woman than I see before me.”

“Yikes. This interview keeps getting worse.”

He smiled. “I’m saying that you are just as much of a surprise as your art. I like it. And these rich benefactors you are trying to hook will like it, too. Should they ever come calling. As an aside, have you received any bids for the…nude portrait?”

“Yes,” Dave said, threading his arm around Janie. “I saw two people drop in a bid even as I was passing by. We don’t know what the highest bid is yet, but we’ll check tonight.”

“It won’t matter,” Janie said. “Rusty will take that one home. He’d buy out the whole place to get it.” She fixed her hair. She’d run her hands through it more than once throughout the interview.

“Rusty…Stubanovich?” Mick tilted his head and turned back from packing up his things.

Janie paused and turned back. “How’d you know that?”

That assessing gaze was back. “I thought I saw someone that looked remarkably like him, but he’s usually in Arizona this time of year. Do you know him?”

“Yes. I’ve painted for him.” Janie reapplied lipstick, trying to keep the quiver out of her voice. No way would she reveal the capacity in which she’d painted for him.

“We told him about the show,” Dave said. “We figured he’d want to know. And we were right, obviously.”

“And he will be taking home that nude portrait? Has he bid on anything else?”

Janie reached her hand out for Dave’s. She was tired of this. She wanted to go. “We’ll find out at the end of the night. Thank you for coming. Excuse us.”

They worked their way back into the now-dense crowd. People moved through and looked at the art, many with delighted faces. Some really angry for some reason. Janie stayed near Dave, but it was thankfully too crowded for anyone to get a chance to fawn over him.

The next night they had to form a line outside the building, letting people in as others left. Sunday was insane. The line at the door was huge. Some people only got a brief opportunity to hurry through at the end of the night, throwing in the occasional bid.

Each night they’d had to do emergency runs for alcohol. Word of mouth, which they’d predicted would swell the crowd each night, had gone crazy. Bids got bigger and bigger. On Sunday, the boxes had to be emptied halfway through the night. Janie couldn’t believe how much strangers wanted to pay for the pieces she’d painted with intense feelings. For Dave’s portrait, and anything with a hint of sex in it, the numbers were ridiculous. Ethan had been right. You never knew what would sell. There was a place for everything.

The Friday after the show, they all sat around the island in Colton’s kitchen. Drinks and apps had been cleared away. All that lay on the granite between them was a stack of the pictures of the paintings with the final prices written on them, and an iPad with Mick’s unread write-up on it.

“We ready?” Dave asked as he stood next to Janie. Everyone around the island nodded nervously. “I mean, it doesn’t matter if this is bad news, because we can build on it. We can change her name and start over. The people that showed up to the show don’t read his stuff. They heard from their friends. So his write-up doesn’t really matter.”

“Exactly.” Madison nodded. “We’ve seen what can be done. He doesn’t matter.”

“He’ll give you a glowing review. I feel it.” Ethan looked confident. He was the only one.

“Remind us of the take?” Noah asked.

Dave picked up the iPad and gestured to the pictures of the paintings. “Fifty-three thousand, eight hundred and nine, not counting that creep’s fifteen grand for the portrait of my cock. I am so not okay with that.”

“You wanted to sell it, bro.” Noah laughed. “Now you got your cock in some creep’s house.”

Colton whistled. “I would never have thought. That is insane. And that doesn’t include proceeds from the alcohol?” He stood with his arms crossed, looking thoughtful. In another year he’d be preparing to launch his new business. He was probably taking notes on how to kick it off with a bang.

“No. We made five grand or something on alcohol, but the cost of the appetizers isn’t factored in.” Ethan scratched his chest. “Paying retail during the emergency runs killed us. Also, free champagne should only be for an exclusive preview.”

“That’s easy to fix.” Dave tapped the counter, staring at the iPad. “People dug it, though. We can definitely get a good response if we do this again. And Janie’s crappy art from the galleries has sold out. Martha even got her into a couple more. Everyone is asking for product.”

“How much did the supplies and space cost?” Madison asked.

“About ten grand. We went super cheap on everything. But we can sell that fabric, probably. I don’t know.”

“I can’t believe art made that much.” Janie let her hands fall into her hands. “My art. It’s surreal. How in the world…”

“It’s because we are an excellent team, love,” Dave said softly, rubbing her back. “So now we invest as much as possible, keep some for the next show, and start planning. We can turn this into something, you and I. We can do it, with or without that article.”

“I can’t stand the suspense.” Colton grabbed the iPad off the counter and danced away into the kitchen, keeping out of Dave’s reach. “Okay, let’s see.”

“Just tell me good or bad.” Janie covered her head like it was an earthquake drill.

He slid his finger across the screen. His eyes moved back and forth.

“Well?” Dave asked anxiously.

A huge smile lit up Colton’s face. He handed the iPad off to Dave and stared at Janie with sparkling eyes. “Meet the new voice in art. He sees a big career for you. He’s backed you.”

“Yes!” Ethan punched the air. “Best result of a horrible surprise to date. Yes! This is a huge win.”

Dave read the article and started chuckling. “He loved how fiery you were. And Rusty was interviewed, the creep. Apparently he’s somebody in the art world. Don’t worry, it’s all praise.”

“How’d you ever get hooked up with that guy?” Madison asked.

Janie rolled her eyes. “Through a boyfriend. He sent Rusty a sample of something I’d done without asking. Rusty contacted me. Young and poor, I didn’t have a notion of saying no to all that money. The boyfriend had thought he’d get to go, too. Instead, he got broken up with.”

“Did I tell you, Janie?” Ethan pushed Dave out of the way so he could massage her shoulders. “Getting people to paint naked is Rusty the Creep’s thing. There’s a couple blog posts I found when I was researching why he gave me the heebie-jeebies. Some huge names were listed. They were invited after they’d had some success. They all stripped off and painted, men and women both. It’s kind of a big deal that he asked you.”

“No.” She shook her head. “Let’s stick with ‘he is creepy.’”

“Oh, he is definitely creepy, yes. That is non-debatable.” Ethan shivered. People seemed to do that a lot regarding Rusty. “But anyway, you basically whored yourself out, so you are officially a part of Big Dick’s now. Isn’t that nice?”

“Step away from my woman, Ethan,” Dave said, not looking up from the iPad.

“Yup.” Ethan wandered away laughing.

Janie couldn’t stop smiling. This was it. This was her life. A boyfriend she loved, great friends, and finally achieving the dream she’d always thought about. It was surreal.

But as Dave came over and hugged her from behind, she knew in her heart of hearts that fate wasn’t such a bitch after all, and this was meant to be.

“What’s next on the bucket list, darling?” he asked softly, nuzzling then kissing her neck.

She closed her eyes and leaned into him. “Sex in the library, obviously. I’ve always wanted to do that.”

He chuckled softly and squeezed her tightly, clearly not realizing what he’d got himself into. She decided not to tell him. The fun would be in the surprise, after all.

* * *

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