Beneath These Lies (Page 68)

Clearly, Trinity didn’t want to talk about it. That I could understand. I didn’t ever want to talk about what had happened to me either after I’d spilled it all to the police, a rape counselor, and finally a psychologist. That had been enough.

I had the psychologist’s card in my desk, and I’d be giving it to Trinity before she left for the day, along with the knowledge that the bill would be on me for as long as she wanted to go.

She walked to the wall with the empty space. “They’d go nicely here, but you already planned that.”

I had, but now I couldn’t kick the idea that I should call Yve and offer them to her before I put them out. But it wasn’t like I was going to hang them on the wall and have a mad rush of customers after them. They’d probably gather dust for months before I gave up and took them home.

Then I remembered how quickly Yve and Lucas had snatched up the last one. My decision was made.

“Why don’t you put them up, and I’ll call Yve and let her know I’ve got more for her to see.”

Yve wasted no time in coming to the gallery. Dirty Dog was only a few blocks away, and she always had at least one employee manning the place with her.

When she walked in the door, the skirt of her retro kelly green dress swirling around her legs, her eyes tracked the walls and landed on the canvases before I could even say hello or point. She stood silently for long moments studying them, all depicting a dark-haired woman wrapped in a red silk sheet in three different poses. It was me, but no one would ever know because her face was turned away in each.

Yve didn’t turn to look at me when she spoke. “She’s beautiful. They’re beautiful. Lucas’s birthday is coming up, and I have to have them. The one we already purchased is amazing, but lonely. These will look perfect with her, and I can’t wait to surprise him.”

The words wrapped around my artist’s soul like a balm. She’d said them without knowing it was me, but I had to tell her. I couldn’t keep this a secret.

“I’ll take them all,” she said, her eyes still fixed on the wall where they hung.

And then I remembered one little detail. “Don’t you want to know the price?”

Yve finally turned to me. “You looking to gouge me after the last one?”

“Of course not. I just thought you might want a price before you said yes.”

“Nope. You’re not going to charge me enough regardless.”

I thought quickly and named a price that was near what Lucas had insisted on paying for the last one—multiplied by three.

Yve nodded. “Can I take them now?”

Wow.

“If you want. I can wrap them for you. Or crate them if you’d prefer.”

She considered. “Wrapping them is fine. I’m not going far. I’ve got my car at Dirty Dog, so I can put them right in it. I can’t wait to see the look on his face. You saved me a hell of a lot of trouble because I had no idea what to get the man who has everything for his birthday.”

I thought Lucas might agree with that sentiment, because now he did seem to have everything—he had Yve.

“Then I’ll ring you up and you can get back to work.”

Yve turned her shrewd gaze on me. “Are you going to tell me who the artist is?”

“Does it matter?”

Another shake of her head. “Not at all, but for future reference, I’d like to know.”

“You’re not going to find her work anywhere other than here.”

“Exclusive?”

“Something like that.” With a deep breath, I took the plunge. “I painted them.”

I had no idea what kind of reaction I would get, but Yve’s wide, brilliant smile was a perfect one.

“Are you freaking kidding me?”

“No. Not kidding.”

“That just makes it even better.” Yve’s excitement colored her tone. “I have your artwork on my wall and I didn’t even know it. That makes me so damn happy, I can’t even tell you.” She strode toward me and I found myself on the receiving end of an unexpected hug.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

She pulled back and looked me in the eye. “Now, tell me why your walls aren’t covered in your work and why you’re not advertising it as your own.”

“I wasn’t ready yet. This was a big move for me. You and Trinity and one other are the sum total of the people I’ve told.”

“One other . . . the mystery man, am I right?”

Hesitantly, I nodded before explaining that he’d pushed me into it by moving the painting she’d purchased from my house to my gallery without me being aware.

“No wonder you were so damn shocked.”

“It wasn’t exactly what I expected to see here.”

“I like him on principle. He goes after what he wants, pushes you to succeed. Those are both pros in my book.”

He didn’t take no for an answer. He routinely broke into my house against my wishes until he’d worked himself into my life such that I couldn’t go five minutes without him crossing my mind.

What would Yve say if she really knew who he was?

The words were on the tip of my tongue to ask her when I swiped her credit card. But I couldn’t get them out.

Yve wasn’t done with the subject either. “You ever going to tell us who this guy is?”

I worried my lower lip. “He’s not someone my parents will ever approve of.”

Yve shrugged. “Does that matter?”

“Not exactly, but I’m just saying that as a way to . . . I don’t know, Yve. He’s not someone I should probably even know.”