Page 144 of The Holiday Fakers
“It’s that or give the good folk of Hideaway Harbor a show they weren’t expecting.”
“Lady Lovewatch would have a field day.”
“Lady what?”
“The Almanac’s gossip columnist. No one knows who it is, but my money’s on Eileen or Mom.”
I smile. “Sounds about right.”
We walk up Main Street,then take a right down Lobstah Lane where the Christmas market is. Wooden huts line the street, and food stalls fill the air with the smell of roasting chestnuts, Glühwein, clam chowder in bread bowls, and cinnamon churros.
Our pace slows as we take in the sights. There’s the odd glance of recognition, but no one comes to ask for a selfie, and I’m glad. I can pretend I’m just a regular guy out with his girl.
“Have you deleted the photos?” Piper asks.
“Fuck! No, sorry.” I come to a halt and pull out my phone. “It got so crazy back there, I totally forgot.”
She folds her hand over mine. “Wait a moment.”
I do, not sure where she’s going with this.
“I’ve been thinking about what Mom and Eileen said,” she begins hesitantly. “That I should show people my drawings and be proud of them. What do you think?”
“That’s not my decision to make.”
“But if someone else had done them, say Harper or Mia, and the guy wasn’t you, what would you say to them in this situation?”
I don’t reply. I don’t want to sway her decision either way. It took enough guts for her to show them to me; I don’t want to pressure her to open them up to the rest of the world, and people who would only criticize out of petty jealousy.
“Brody, please.”
“This has to beyourcall.”
“It will be, I promise. But I value your opinion, and they are of you, so you need a say as well.”
I take a measured breath. “I think you should put them out there. They’re incredible. But onyourterms. Howyouwould want them to be posted.”
She nods. “I’ve spent most of my life drawing you in secret, but now that we’re …”
“Together.”
Her cheeks flush with color, but her eyes brighten with excitement. “Together,” she repeats as if she can’t quite believe it. “I don’t have to hide my obsession any longer.”
“You can be obsessed with me as much as you like, Piper Locke. Bring it on.”
She grins. “Your number one fan.”
“The best.”
“And I’ve had an idea … about my art.”
“Go on.”
“I’ve seen these adverts online for companies that you can build a website with. They handle everything from the domain and design to security. They have templates you can pick from, and it’s meant to be really intuitive.
“Now we’re excused from enforced public outings, I thought I could create one. It would be a better platform for showcasing my work, and I could advertise for commissions. So, if I don’t hang onto my job, then this could help cover bills until I find a new one. What do you think?”
I want to tell her that I’d happily support her for the rest of our lives if she wanted to quit tomorrow, but I keep my big mouth firmly shut. If she’s passionate about her job, then I want her to keep it.
