“Where?”
I nodded to the middle where every female eye was focused. Max slipped his hands into his jeans pockets, gaze fixed on Titus. A second passed before he nodded and walked off toward the bar.
Why I’d expected him to say something, I had no idea. Pulling my gaze away from him, blowing out a deep breath, I made my way to the table in the center of the place.
Titus looked up from signing a napkin. Deep blue eyes shifted to me. More cellphones flashed. A lock of dark brown hair fell over his brow. The guy was sleek and beautiful in a waif-like way, his pale features cut from marble.
With a wave of his hand, he dismissed his fawning admirers. “Ila Logan?”
Thankfully, Pierre must have described me since he didn’t mistake me for another of his panting female fans.
“Yes.” I took the seat opposite him. The waiter approached, I ordered a V&T. As I set my purse to one side, Titus picked up his glass of water. “Thanks for meeting me. You come highly recommended.”
Really? While that was good to hear, especially for my business, Pierre had never seen my work. Not that I knew of.
I smiled politely. “Thanks.”
“How long have you been painting?” he asked, taking another sip of his water.
“Professionally, two years.” My gaze slid to Max. He had his cell pressed to his ear, a beer before him. As he spoke, he rubbed his brow. Did he have a headache? Lines of strains bracketed his mouth. He appeared weary.
“That’s not very long, is it?” Titus said, pulling my attention back.
The waiter set my drink at my elbow. Nodding my thanks, I took a big gulp of my liquor and tried not to look at Max again. And failed. He dragged his fingers throw his hair as he continued with his call, his expression morphing into frustration.
“I do have one work in progress and another that’s to be collected in a few days,” I said, wondering what was going on with Max. “You’re welcome to see them. And I could give you phone numbers of my former clients. They appeared satisfied with their portraits.”
“I’ve seen your work,” Titus murmured. My gaze rushed to his. He had? Titus straightened the cuff of his sleeve. “But that’s not what I want…”
No? Frowning, I picked up my drink and took a sip as he spoke. When what he said finally registered, I almost choked on my drink. “What?”
Max
I swallowed more of my Heineken and tried to keep myself occupied so I wouldn’t obsess over what was happening at the table in the middle. I didn’t like Logan alone with the pinup, but this was her job, I reminded myself. Getting out my cell, I called Jack.
“Hey, bud,” he answered on the third ring. “What’s up?”
Tell him a girl had gotten my mind twisted into a damn knot I had no idea what was happening to me? Jack would laugh his ass off. I only knew I couldn’t leave this alone, at least until I figured out what the hell it was.
“Nothing. My Jeep?”
“Still here. You coming over for it?”
“No.” My gaze flicked across the room to Logan.
She’d taken off her coat, and in her white, sleeveless top, her deep golden skin exposed, and with all that flowing dark hair, she appeared fragile…beautiful. The need to walk over, shove the bonehead model away, and show everyone in this booze-joint to whom she belonged took hold.
Problem was, I should have never kissed her. Now I was being territorial as shit and hungered for more.
“What the fuck’s going on with you, man?” Jack growled.
I barely heard him. Logan coughed, and a light blush stained her cheeks. Her gaze lowered for a moment. She set her glass down and faced the pinup once more, her expression unreadable. All cool, calm, and business-like. One I knew too well. She was hiding her feelings. What the hell had he said to her?
“You in hibernation or something?” Jack demanded. “Where the hell are you?”
“Look, I’m a little tied up right now. Can you drop off the Jeep? I’ll text you the address. Leave the keys in the usual place.” I rang off.
It was a struggle to restrain myself and not glare at the table in the center of the bar like a rabid dog, so I headed outside. Out of habit, I reached in my pockets. Fuck, no smokes. Right, I was trying to give up that shit. Hell, I needed a cigarette to keep my hands busy and this restlessness within restrained. I rubbed my temple and the dull throb there. It didn’t take much to set off the damn headaches. But how the hell could I remain calm?
