Page 111 of Jagged

"I could've turned out to be a little shithead if it wasn't for you," I blurted out in a rare moment of sincerity.

"I mean…we're all little shitheads every now and then." She glanced over to where Sali now stood in front of a food truck.

"Suppose so."

"I was a big asshole and then married a bigger one, but underneath it all is something a bit more tender that we don't let other people see." She gestured to the half-painted mural. "As evidenced by such."

I nodded, my mouth twitching with a threatened smile. "Yeah."

"You gonna finish it?"

"You gonna arrest me?"

"Nope." She shrugged and flopped her hands down in her lap. "No authority to do so." Maggie nodded toward the wall. "Have at it, Jagz."

I chuckled as I stood, returning to my work in front of her. Admittedly, it felt pretty awkward, but I couldn't let that stop me.

Maggie sat with me for the completion of the rainbow, but a phone call interrupted the bottom half where I intended to add a few kids gazing at it. I ignored the call as I used the black paint to tag the word hope on top of the vibrant colors. Only that word appeared full-on graffiti style. Again, my pocket buzzed and I answered it as I took a step back.

"Yeah?"

"Is this Jagger Roth?"

"Yes." My brow furrowed as I turned back toward my voyeurs, both Sali and Maggie now standing a few paces away sharing a hotdog and fries.

"This is Kanika from the gallery. I'm going to need to you come down today if possible."

"Um… okay. Is Tatiana okay?"

"She's not here. It's about your piece. I have a buyer, but I need your consent to move forward with the transaction. Can you make it down? She's here and wants it pretty quickly."

"Uh…yeah—yes. I-I can. Sure."

"Great. See you soon."

Immediately after the call ended, my shaking thumb called Tati, and texted Clem.

***

"Wow." I stood outside the gallery, my hands on my hips as I watched Tatiana's work loaded onto delivery trucks. "Just wow."

"You know what's a bigger wow?" She approached me with an envelope in hand.

"What?"

"Open that," she said, shoving it against my chest.

"Why? What?" I scrambled to catch the paper before the wind stole it.

"Go on."

I listened to her and cracked open the torn edge to reveal the check made out to her full legal name Tatiana Isabel Agostinho Silva. It took me a moment, but when I finally computed the number of zeros after the first digit, my stomach lurched with anxiety.

"I can't hold this!" I thrust it back at her and she laughed.

"Right? Me either. Let's make Reagan hold it."

"Are you kidding me?!" I squawked. "Get real."

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