Page 7 of Painting Together a Family
Bryan followed him, staying close. “Is this related to the case?”
He glared at the front desk as he passed it, but the guard wasn’t there at the moment, which only made him want to growl all the more. “I’m sure. Reporters don’t really care about the art world.” He put his key in the slot and hit the button for the sixth floor.
“Someone must have let them in—you needed a key for the elevator,” Bryan pointed out. “And you said they don’t care about art, does that mean you’re an artist?”
“Yeah. I’m a painter. I tend to do multimedia type stuff.”
“Oh, that’s cool. I’d love to see your stuff when your apartment isn’t being held siege by TV people.” The elevator dinged, and Bryan followed him out into the hallway.
“I’d be happy to. There’s going to be cursing, fair warning.” Dev winked, then surged down the hall. “What the fuck are you doing on my floor? My daughter has called the police! This is a private residence!”
He could scream. He’d had plenty of practice in the last eight years.
“We’re just looking for a comment on a story we’re doing,” the reporter began, her cameraman swinging his camera around to focus on Dev.
“We don’t give you permission to film us,” Bryan told them. “And you’ve been told to leave.”
The reporter got all huffy. “We’re the news; we can film who we want.”
“We do not give you permission,” Bryan repeated.
“This is a private residence. The police are on their way!” Dev knew Marley would know what to do.
“Come on, Dana, let’s go before the cops show up.”
“He’s bluffing!”
“Dana,” the guy growled.
“He’s not bluffing!” That was Marley, inside. “Don’t you be mean to my daddy. Please hurry! Help!”
Bryan got himself between the reporters and Dev. “Go to your daughters. I’ll make sure they leave.” Then he handed the box of cinnamon rolls over and spread his arms wide, started advancing on the reporter and her cameraman, herding them toward the elevator.
Dev unlocked the door and slipped inside, manhandling the box of cinnamon rolls. “I’m fine. It’s okay. I’m right here.”
“Da!” Juniper was losing her shit.
Marley looked like she was about to cry, holding on by sheer will alone. His baby girl was so strong; he just wished she didn’t have to keep proving it.
“Take my tea. I have a friend out there. Juni, get the cinnamon rolls for me? Stop crying. You’re fine. I’m going to complain to the super. We pay for security.” The reporter should never have been able to reach their floor.
A gentle knock sounded at the door and Bryan called out, “It’s Bryan. I got them on the elevator—made sure to press the button to the lobby before the doors closed. So it’s just me.”
Dev went to open the door. “Come on in. Thank you. Girls, this is Bryan. He’s a friend of mine.”
Marley blinked, and Juniper blurted out with, “A kissing friend?”
Bryan gave it a valiant try, Dev could see him trying hard not to laugh, but a snicker made its way out, the pretty lips twisting into a smile. Bryan followed up the sound with a “not yet.”
“See? Just friends. Come on in and have a seat.” He got a hug from Juniper, then a surprise one from Marley. “You’re okay, sweetheart. I promise.”
“Thanks.” Bryan went and sat on the end of one of the big couches, his tea in hand. “So did you guys get all your homework done?” he asked the girls.
Marley shook her head, but Juni nodded, so eager. “I did!”
“Good for you!” Bryan lifted his hand for a high-five, and she gave it to him, bumping her little hand up against his. “What did you have to do?” Bryan was clearly comfortable with kids.
“I had fractions, and I had to do social studies.” She tilted her head. “Are you a teacher?”
