Oliver appeared to be on the verge of losing consciousness. His knife trembled, and he threw a desperate look at Seb.
Coward.
Seb felt for him, though. Announcing his holistic lifestyle makeover to this room of his nearest and somewhat dearest was never going to be easy. The thought of their father strolling through Oliver’s soon-to-be former office and hearing the news that way had to be even more terrifying.
Seb sighed. Time to dig his brother out of this one. He’d collect his reward later.
“I’ve got a show coming up in six weeks.” His opening line was unimportant. He needed to wait for someone to take the bait. “I’ve been invited to exhibit some of my work as part of a tribute to Arlene Schiller.”
“Seb, that sounds great!” Nora said.
“Sebastian, don’t interrupt while I’m talking to your brother.” Philip regarded him like a fly buzzing around a picnic.
Seb forced his smile and continued undeterred. “It was supposed to be a collaborative show, but Schiller had to back out.”
“Do you get paid for something like that?” Jason asked.
Bingo.
“Oliver—” Philip tried again.
“Some. It’s exposure mostly, but shows like this usually net a few sales after the fact,” Seb said. “Kenneth says it’s good for my career. Probably the biggest show I’ve done so far.”
“Sebastian—”
“But you don’t get paid? Is it even a real job if you’re not making money? What kind of sense does that make?”
Seb narrowed his eyes. Jason always made it too easy. “About as much sense as my sister keeping you around even though we all know you’re a Class D moron.”
“Seb!” Parker said.
“Sebastian!” Philip’s knife clattered to his plate.
Seb smiled blithely across the table at his father. “Yes, Dad?”
“Apologize to Jason.”
Martin’s leg shifted against Seb’s, possibly in warning, but Seb knew exactly what he was doing. Too bad Martin would witness this, though. Things were about to get loud. The Stevensons were yellers when they all got together.
“Jason.” He slipped his hand into Martin’s. “I’m sorry you wouldn’t know good art if it bit you in your sagging ass. Seriously, man, with what you make in commissions, a gym membership shouldn’t be that hard to manage.”
“Sebastian!” Philip’s voice dropped another note lower.
“It’s fine, Seb.” Oliver’s voice was quiet next to him. “You can stop.”
Seb winked at his big brother. Oliver never understood this. The only way to escape was to commit to the very end.
“Seriously?” Jason’s face was several shades pinker than the fish on his plate. “That’s the best you can come up with? You’re going to insult my ass?”
“I’ve seen a lot of ass in my time,” Seb said.
“Sebastian, that is enough!” His father pounded the table.
“Yours isn’t all that great. I remember.”
“Seb!” Parker’s voice rose above the others.
“Seb, stop.” Oliver’s hand was on Seb’s knee, squeezing so hard the pain radiated up his leg.
