Page 15 of Partnering with the Artist

Coming alert, he throws his arms over his digital canvas. “Don’t you dare. These unsightly scribbles of your majestyshan’t befall—nay!besmirch!—such a marvelous gaze as yours. I’ll make them perfect before you catch a glimpse of them, and then—still—they shall be but pale imitations of your unrivaled beauty. No camera could so much as do you justice with the stagnant, pitiful, lifeless photos they produce.” His voice shakes, with humanity. (I think.) “Oh! Why must the task I’ve undertaken be impossible! What have I done to deserve this? Will I, like Sisphyus, be doomed for eternity to reach a precipice only to fall back down at your feet? Again and again! All is for naught.”

I check my phone. It is past noon.

Harry would also go a little mad whenever he was hungry…but at least Zakery’s madness is lessangryand more…whatever this is.

I rise.

He wails, “No! Don’t look, my goddess, my queen! I cannot bear the shame.”

I stay put, right in front of the daybed. “I won’t look. Promise. I’m just hungry. Do we have…lunch breaks?”

His gaze shifts as he pulls back from protecting his tablet with his body. Humming, he murmurs, “My, how did it get so late? Yes, of course there’s a lunch break.” He taps a few things on the screen with his pen, then he stands, removing his glove. “Come along, then.”

I do not expect that to mean follow him to the kitchen, where the gardener and my sister appear to be…cooking?

Morana catches sight of me and smiles. “Mae. How’s work going?”

“Fine…” I look at her, then at the mountain of man beside her. Kaleb is all broad shoulders and tan skin, isn’t he? Yikes. Comparably, Zakery is tall, but there is something to be said about howbroadtheir gardener is. Trying not to stare, I ask, “Whatcha doin’?”

“Making lunch,” Kaleb says, smile warm as he cracks an egg into a bowl.

“How can we help?” Zakery braces a shoulder against the wall.

“I’m making calzones, if you want to help portion and roll the dough out. It’s in the fridge. This is the egg wash for after we get them filled.” He hands the bowl to Morana, who maintains an odd chipperness. What happened to her concern of being assaulted? Not to say that I’marguingwith no longer needing to worry about that, but…still.

Historically it takes Morana time to warm up to anyone. Who is this guy, other than the Bachelors’ gardener and…chef? That’s an odd melding of job positions.

While I’m trying to make sure Morana isn’t under threat or duress, Zakery opens the fridge and gasps. “Sister princess, didyoudo this?”

Morana’s eye twitches, proving she’s not been replaced by an alien at least. “Don’t call me that. Morana or Mora is acceptable. And, yes, I cleaned your filthy nasty fridge. Kaleb assures me the only animal you guys live with is a cat named Ender, but since I’ve yet to see the cat and it shouldn’t be using the fridge…I have my doubts.”

Zakery retrieves two bags of premade pizza dough and closes the large silver door. “Viktor’s going to be so happy.”

“If itevergets that bad again, I will castrate each and every one of you—except Kaleb.”

My mouth drops open as I look at myinsanesister, who is terrorizing the monarchy that controls our rent.

Her gaze catches on mine, and she smiles—peachily. “Kaleb says I’m allowed to threaten his slob brothers whenever I want. I’m the house maid, but I’m not a slave, and there is a difference betweenupkeepandpick up after. I’m not employed topick up afteranyone. I like this job.”

Um.

Okay.

Wow.

Lots to take in here.

First…Kaleb is…a Bachelorbrother? He’s so much darker than the rest of them, and something about his bone structure doesn’t quite match. Not only that, it’s kind of widely-known that there are only four Bachelor brothers. Who knew they were hiding a secret fifth?

Second, this is such a massive difference compared to when she’d come home from work at Helena’s and contemplate homicide.

Third, calzones sound delicious, but I wasn’t anticipating that we’d be eatinghere. I thought we’d get an hour break to go pick something up.

Zakery offers me a bag of dough. “Want to help me portion and roll?”

“I was going to ask if you’d help mix the innards, Maelin,” Kaleb says. “I know what my brothers want in their calzones, but I don’t know what you and your sister like.”

Zakeryalmostpouts before he glances at Morana and exchanges the onset of the expression out for cool resignation. “Very well. I suppose I have hogged her attention most of the morning. I can share.”

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