Page 19 of Painted

“The pastries really are good,” Early whispered close to his ear.

Early’s breath against him sent an inconvenient shiver down Rhys’s spine.

He nodded curtly, then pretended to put his full focus back into the event planning.

“I have contacts with several vendors in the restaurant industry who would be more than happy to provide vouchers or catering as prizes in a silent auction,” Flint was saying. “And CADD has a list of regular donors who happily provide things for auctions such as the one we’re proposing.”

“We have more than enough contacts in the art world who knew Raina and who, I’m certain, would be more than happy to provide things,” Robbie commented from the other end of the table.

“Art always brings in high-level bidders,” Flint said with a pleased smile. “We could list all the items up for auction on the website as soon as possible to generate even more interest.”

“Is that all this is to you?” Rhys snapped before he could stop himself and regulate his emotions. “Are you going to take this tragedy, this major hole in our lives, and turn it into a cash cow?”

“Rhys,” his mum said softly, though her eyes held firmer censure.

“No, no, he has a valid concern,” Flint said, rubbing his fingertips on the tabletop again. “If you’d like, I can send you the link to the part of CADD’s website where they detail the initiatives they’re involved in and how donations are used.”

Flint’s gaze traveled up past Rhys’s shoulder just as Early returned to Rhys’s side and set a small plate with what looked like a raspberry danish in front of him. The danish looked delicious, but Flint’s look soured him on it before he’d even taken a bite.

“You seem to have a problem with our admin, Mr. Flint,” Rhys addressed the problem head-on, feeling like he wanted to put his body between Early and Flint like a barrier and growl at Flint until he got the point.

“I…no, I don’t, I can assure you…I just don’t usually…I haven’t seen….” Flint squirmed and cleared his throat, which turned into a coughing fit.

“Is there a problem?” Nick asked, as if he’d suddenly picked up on it.

“No, really,” Flint assured him and everyone else at the table. “It’s just that I generally work in a very conservative environment. The…freedom of your arts center has taken me a bit by surprise.”

“Thefreedomof this arts center, as you put it, is paramount to everything we do here,” Rhys said as firmly as possible without losing his temper. “If you find any part of itunacceptable, then perhaps this isn’t the right venue for you to have your fundraiser.”

“Memorial fundraiser,” Rhys’s mum chimed in from the side, sending Rhys a look that was both a reminder of their purpose and, strangely enough, pride in the way he was defending Early.

“Early is a valued member of our team,” his dad added, sitting back a bit.

“I’m so, so sorry,” Flint said to him, then glanced up at Early, who had returned to the cart at the other end of the room. “Truly. I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable at all.”

Somehow, Early was still smiling. “It’s alright,” they said. “I get it all the time.”

Rhys thought that was far more gracious than Early needed to be.

He felt even more protective when Early glanced his way, as if seeking his approval for their measured reaction to the insult.

Rhys smiled back at them, Early relaxed and went back to work, and the storm seemed to blow over.

“Let’s talk a little more about this silent auction,” his dad said, masterfully steering everyone back on course.

“Yes, let’s,” Flint said, more anxious than ever.

Rhys stared at him across the table, his resentment of the man’s connection to Raina’s death morphing into a sharper resentment of his treatment of Early. He didn’t like Flint. That was all there was to it. But his parents were determined to go ahead with the fundraiser. The meeting had barely started and he was already sure of that. The best he could do to contribute to the discussion and help the family going forward was to do whatever it took to protect Early from anything that might hurt them.

SIX

Early couldn’t helpbut smile as the fundraiser meeting went on, even though they had every reason not to smile. Mr. Flint was clearly some sort of phobe, and he continued to shoot glances in their direction when he thought the family wasn’t watching. They’d endured much worse, though, especially at home. Mr. Flint was nothing compared to some of the comments they’d gotten just while walking around London with their friends.

What kept the smile on their face as they finished serving snacks and sat to take notes on the proceedings was the fact that Rhys had stood up for them. He hadn’t even been subtle or qualified his defense at all. He’d straight up tried to protect them. How could they do anything but smile because of that?

Rhys had been wonderful for the last couple of days, too. Every time Early found themself thinking that they should summon up the courage to head back to their parents’ house, at least to pack their personal belongings, Rhys had said something kind or done something so sweet that the last thing Early had wanted to do was move away from that.

Maybe it was their imagination, but they were getting somewhere. They and Rhys had grown closer in just a few days. The two of them were comfortable around each other, and that felt like it would only get better the more time they spent together.

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