But all I could think about was Lucy. It had been almost an entire day since I’d left him—at least, it felt like it. And Lucy could still be upset from whatever had happened.
I just fucking wish I knew what had happened. It felt like I was going in blind.
My phone rang, and I answered it without looking.
“Lucy?”
“No, Maisie, but you’re on the right track.”
I blinked. “Maisie? What’s wrong? You never call me.”
She sighed. “It’s Lucy. Have you seen the news today?”
I stiffened. “No, I haven’t. But Lucy was upset last night, and I got my feelings hurt, so I left. I was going to go over there today to see if he would talk to me again.”
Silence for a moment. Then a groan. “Knox, tell me you’re fucking joking. Because Lucy apparently got sold down the river last night by all the rich snobs and his own family. They’re saying he’s immature, like a teenager, and that he’s basically ruinedhis entire family’s reputation and future rubbing noses with the other rich snobs! For those people, this is really bad, and I’m scared what it could mean for Lucy.”
I couldn’t breathe. My lungs were tight, my gut knotted, and my heart hammering with adrenaline.
“What?”
“Which part did you miss, Knox!”
I rubbed a hand through my hair, pacing. “His family, too? I just–he’s been working his ass off. What happened?”
“Apparently, his painting was offensive or something. Had some lady clutching her pearls and crying. Personally, I thought the painting was sick, but for stuffy old people…”
“Wait, what?” I repeated, my thoughts scrambling. “That painting was great, and it followed their stupid Valentine’s Day theme to a T.”
“Are you sure?” Maisie sure didn’t sound it. “Because it was all dark and angsty. Like some dark romance or some sad romantasy where the love interest is brainwashed, but he still pines over the heroine.”
I gasped. No fucking way. “Was it dark? With red in it?”
“Yeah, definitely moody, and some dots in it or whatever, but mostly a super dark night sky kind of background and a fair amount of red.”
“That’s our painting,” I breathed, at a loss.
“Your painting?”
“He brought our painting to the exhibit instead of the bubble gum lovey dovey one, and they’re tearing him apart for it.”
The anger was back, sharp and hot. I wanted to punch Lucy’s dad’s face in. How could anyone cause such a big fuss about one painting? It was fucking romantic as hell! Didn’t that fit the theme perfectly?
“He-oh…” Maisie’s voice trailed off. “I-fuck, that’s adorable. I didn’t know you two were in love. Well,” she amended, “I didn’t know you were admitting it.”
“We aren’t,” I denied. “I haven’t—I’m working on it.”
Maisie laughed. “Well, you’d better get your ass over there and work on it some more, because if that was me getting blacklisted by my own family, I’d be crying my eyes out.”
“Tucker would never.”
“Tucker knows better, because I’d kick his balls in.”
I snorted. “That fits the bill between you tw–”
“Mr. Bristol, sorry for the wait.”
I spun around to see Felix Valero standing in front of me, a confused smile on his face because, yeah, I was being rude as fuck and was on the phone when I was supposed to be in an interview.
