Page 21 of Levee

“You’re not selling anything?” I asked. “Really?”

“I sold five prints and one bookmark,” she said, waving at the table where there were various greeting cards and bookmarks spread out. “I’m not complaining. Money is money. But once I deduct the rental fee, it might just make more sense for me to stay home and work instead.”

“How’re the portraits for Mrs. Jackson coming along?” I asked, moving behind the table to get a closer look at her art.

“Almost done with one,” she said, and I felt her moving closer, but keeping her distance. Like she didn’t want to disturb my browsing. “Which one is your favorite?” she asked when I was done.

“This one,” I decided, moving back toward one that featured an orange and white goldfish with its fanned tail spread wide.

“That’s Swim Shady,” she told me, making a laugh bubble up as I looked over at her.

“Swim Shady?” I asked.

“Yeah, he’s one of my fish. They’re one of my favorite things to paint,” she admitted. “Here,” she said, going back to her table to rifle through a box, then coming back with a print of the same picture set in a see-through protector. “On me.”

“Nah, I have to support the arts,” I insisted, reaching for my wallet, then handing her a fifty.

“I can’t break that.”

“I wasn’t asking you to,” I told her.

“That’s too much. The print is only going for twenty.”

“And, yet, you’re gonna take it,” I said.

I was half a second away from tucking it down into her skirt pocket when fucking Coast appeared out of nowhere.

“Levee, the fuck did you… oh,” he said, stopping short at seeing me standing so close to Jade. “Told you you underestimated him,” he called back to the other guys. “He’s picking up a pretty thing too.”

Christ.

“Coast, this is Jade. Jade, my brother, Coast.”

“Brother?” she asked, her artist eye taking in our different coloring and facial structures in a blink.

“Club brothers,” I clarified.

“Oh, right. The motorcycles.”

“She’s pretty as fuck, man, but she’s busy,” Coast said, his gaze moving over the booth.

“What are you guys up to?” Jade asked as Kylo came up behind Coast, arms thrown over two different women.

“A party bus, if you can believe that,” I told her. “Then likely the clubs later.”

“A party bus?” Jade asked, brows scrunching. “People actually use those outside of bridal parties?”

“I’m afraid we don’t have any penis-shaped straws or hats,” Zayn declared, joining us. “But if it is an absolute deal-breaker, we can surely find some. Is this your art?” he asked, moving into the booth.

“Jade, Zayn. Zayn, this is Jade,” I said.

“Nice to meet you. And, yes.”

“Do you sell originals?” he asked, moving around the booth, seeming to study each painting with a practiced eye.

I mean, this was Zayn. I was sure the fucker had been in every art gallery in no fewer than twenty separate countries. Not to mention having multiple houses where he, presumably, kept artwork.

“I do,” Jade admitted.

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