Page 42 of Beautiful Lies
I shook my head. “Not happening.”
“Scared?” she taunted.
“I’m too busy to work on something like that.” Christ, I just bought the shop this morning. I couldn’t even think about an art exhibition.
“You probably already have tons of stuff you can exhibit,” Ava said, popping a chocolate into her mouth.
“I don’t,” I said, watching her lick the chocolate off her fingers. It was so fucking sexy I almost forgot what we were talking about. God, she loved to torture me. “I’m not a painter.”
“Yes, you are. You’re a graffiti artist,” Ava said. “That’s painting. Besides, you’re really fast. You can whip up a piece in a few hours.”
“Exactly,” Eden said. “It takes me days, sometimes weeks, to finish a piece.”
“Because you’re a perfectionist with your art,” Killian said, not masking the pride in his voice.
“There’s no such thing as a perfectionist when it comes to art,” Eden said.
Eden was confident in every area of her life except for her art. She still didn’t believe that she was good enough, but I understood exactly where she was coming from.
“If you won’t do it, I’m not doing it,” Eden said, crossing her arms.
Killian jerked his chin, indicating that I should follow him. How the fuck had my innocent suggestion come to this? We wandered over to the wall of black steel-framed windows. From the kitchen, I heard Eden and Ava talking, their words drowned out by the music. “I’d owe you one,” Killian said.
I wish I’d never suggested this idea. It was meant for Eden, not for me. I wasn’t lying when I said I was busy. I already had a shitload to deal with. Running the shop. Getting up to speed with the accounting and paperwork. I’d be working long hours and I had no time for this. Not to mention, I had zero desire to ever display anything in a gallery. That wasn’t my scene. Perfect for Eden, a terrible idea for me. “Eden’s art belongs in galleries. Mine doesn’t. I’m a tattoo artist.”
He stared out the window, lost in contemplation. “You’ve always had the same problem Eden does. Thinking your art’s never good enough,” he said. “Seamus was wrong. You need to stop believing the things he said.”
I rolled my shoulders, remembering some of the things he used to say.You call that art? A kindergartener could do better than that. Stop wasting your time doodling and do something useful. Get your head out of the clouds, you fucking pussy.
“Have you?” I asked Killian
“I’m working on it.”
“Still seeing the shrink?”
“Yeah. I’m singlehandedly funding his exotic vacations.”
I chuckled. “That bad, huh?”
“It’s not easy, that’s for damn sure.”
“I know.”
“I know you know. We lived it. But we came out the other side. Stronger. More resilient.”
Killian never talked like this. Was he putting me in that same category? Stronger? More resilient? His shrink sessions must be paying off. Yesterday he said he was proud of me.
“Why couldn’t you display graffiti in a gallery?” Killian asked.
He was asking for a favor and it was in my power to grant it. He didn’t remind me that I owed him and Eden for everything I’d put them through last year. Because of my fuck-up, Killian had been shot three times in the chest. Thank God he’d been wearing a bulletproof vest. He’d shot and killed the man who had threatened Eden’s life. Eden, who had been punched and kicked, bound at the ankles and wrists, a gun held to her head while I’d been tied to a chair, unable to help her. But it felt like Killian was trying to put that behind us. I didn’t want to do this exhibition, but it looked as if I needed to. “No reason I couldn’t.”
“Good. And next time you want to get your ex-girlfriend off, don’t do it at my dinner table.”
I chuckled under my breath. “No idea what you’re talking about.”
11
Ava
