“He’s really good,” Greg said.
“Yeah, he is,” I replied. I gestured to where Brendan was standing, surrounded by a group of men and women who were asking him questions or complimenting his work.
“Is your cousin here yet?” he asked.
I shook my head. “He got tied up with business. He’ll be here in about twenty minutes.”
Greg gestured toward Brendan. “We should go chat with him. Let him know we’re here.”
Brendan’s eyes lit up when he saw us approach. He excused himself and came to greet us. “Greg, I’m so glad you could make it.”
His gaze slid over to me, and I realized he didn’t know who I was. I’d only met him one time. I held out my hand. “I’m Tony.”
“My boyfriend,” Greg added, which made my heart do all sorts of funny things.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Tony,” he said. I noticed his Irish brogue was thicker than it usually was when he was working. I’d bet this whole exhibit thing was stressful for him.
“Your paintings are amazing,” Greg enthused. “They’re all Ireland, right?”
There was a hint of sadness in his smile. “Aye. I miss home sometimes. Painting it makes me feel better.”
A middle-aged woman with long dark hair pulled back in a braid came up to us. “Sorry for interrupting, Brendan, but there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”
Brendan nodded. “I’ll be right over.” He turned to us and said, “Thanks for coming. I really appreciate it.”
Greg and I wandered around the rest of the exhibit, but we continued to be drawn back to Brendan’s work. “I’m thinking about buying the one with the castle,” Greg said. “I love the detail in it.”
“That’s a good one,” I agreed. “I was thinking about getting the painting of the Cliffs of Mohr.”
“Tony.”
I turned with a smile at the sound of my cousin’s voice. “Sal. You made it.” I gave him a hug in greeting. I turned and gestured Greg forward. “This is my boyfriend, Greg.”
Sal’s smug smile said everything. He held out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Greg.”
“Same,” Greg replied. His gaze darted between my cousin and me. “The family resemblance is strong.”
“Except for the height,” I teased. “I got that from my father.”
Sal nudged me. “Yeah, yeah. You D’Angelos are all giants.”
With a chuckle, I gestured toward Brendan’s paintings. “Have you seen Brendan’s work yet?”
“No, I haven’t,” he replied.
We walked with Sal while he perused Brendan’s exhibit. He stood the longest in front of the painting of the boy on the beach. His gaze drifted over to the man himself before coming back to the painting. “I wonder what stole his joy,” my cousin murmured.
Before I could figure out how to respond, my phone vibrated with a call. I was going to ignore it, but then it stopped and started again right away. Fuck. It was Marco’s signal that something was very wrong and needed to answer the call. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and swiped to answer. “What’s wrong?” I asked without preamble.
My brother’s voice was hoarse when he answered. “Pops had a heart attack. It’s bad, Tony.”
“When?” I asked, fear clogging my throat.
“About twenty minutes ago. Liam and I were visiting, and he just collapsed. Liam kept him stable while I called 9-1-1.” There was a long pause before he spoke again. “Mom’s a wreck. She wants you and Michael here.”
“Of course…I just have to get my car…” My head was foggy. I couldn’t think.
Suddenly, Greg was standing in front of me. “Tony. What’s wrong?”
