Page 102 of Follow Me Down

“You suck.” I slouch in my seat, crossing my arms over my chest dramatically.

“If memory serves, you suck, and quite well I might add.” He leans away when I playfully swat at him. “Babe!” He laughs again. “That was a compliment.”

“You better be taking me somewhere good to eat atyou’ll see, because I’m starving.”

“I think that can be arranged.”

I lean forward, turning the radio up a few notches before settling back into my seat. I hum along to the words, tapping my hand on the door as the wind blows through my hair.

It’s a beautiful day. Hot, but beautiful. The sun gleaming overhead and not a single cloud in the sky.

Twenty minutes later, we find ourselves walking the streets of downtown Atlanta. I’ve never been here before and the size of the city is a little overwhelming, if I’m being honest.

For not being here for nearly a decade, Titus seems to know exactly where he’s going. He weaves us in and out of the various people cluttering the sidewalks before finally veering to the right, tugging me inside a shop moments later.

“Titus.” I gasp, realizing instantly that this isn’t just any shop, but a gorgeous gallery. There’s art everywhere. Sculptures displayed on stands, paintings on the walls. It’s incredible.

“I thought maybe you’d like to see the gallery where Ellen had you featured.”

“Seriously. My painting was hanging here?” I say in disbelief.

A part of me is still convinced that Ellen bought the painting and paid the gallery to send me a check. Because really, who spends more than twenty bucks on a no name artist?

“Pretty incredible, isn’t it?” He smiles down at me. “Come on, let’s look around.”

“Okay.” I nod excitedly, following him through the main room and into a secondary room nearly twice the size of the first.

“Hi there.” I jump when a woman dressed in a dark pant suit and heels, her auburn hair twisted up in a professional bun, appears seemingly out of nowhere.

“Hello.” Titus is the first to respond.

“What brings you two in today? Is there something specific you’re looking for or are you just browsing?”

“We’re just look...” I start to say, but Titus cuts me off.

“Can you show us what new pieces you have?”

“Of course. You can follow me.” She gestures to the far-right wall. “We just put this new piece on display yesterday. I have to say, I’m in love with this artist’s work.” She stops, but it isn’t until Titus steps out of my line of sight that I’m able to see what painting she’s referring to.

“What the...”

It’smypainting.Mine. The red heart that I was supposed to send Ellen before everything happened. How did it get here?

It’s unmistakable. And when my eyes slide to the corner whereFallonis scribbled onto the canvas, it’s confirmed. Fallon. Just Fallon. It felt right to me. Like the name of arealartist.

Thisismy painting...

“Incredible, isn’t it?” The lady misreads my reaction. “She’s from the states but spends a lot of time painting in places like Italy and Paris.”

Titus squeezes my hand and winks. He wants me to play along, though I’m not entirely sure why. This woman just said I paint in Italy and Paris. I’ve never even been to Italy or Paris.

“We’ve sold several of her pieces.” Another lie. Man, she’s really laying it on thick. “One just a few days ago, actually. And while I love all of her work, I have to say, this one is something special. I can’t imagine it’ll be here long.”

“It’s brilliant.” Titus smiles. “How much are you selling it for?”

“Fifteen thousand.”

I suck in a breath too fast and end up choking on my own spit. Titus looks at me, amusement all over his face as he pats my back.

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