Don't. You've technically hired her. You could put her in a bad spot. Don't prove Greg right.
"Are you making more apocalyptic babies to sell?" I teased her.
She stuck her tongue out at me. "No, just kittens and puppies. Corgis especially are popular, along with my inspirational paintings. Not that I expect any of that to interest the big bad hotel boss and art collector."
"You don't know. Maybe I'll have a cat-themed hotel one of these days," I said and devoured the last bite.
"You ate that quick," Hazel said, nodding to the sandwich wrapper.
"I eat a lot of things quickly."
"That's too bad. I was hoping you would eat slower."
I coughed. Normally I was the one to start the sexual-tension laced teasing. I really should dial it back. Hunter made it sound like hellfire was going to rain down if Meg eventhoughtI was after her sister.
I looked at the card on the sandwich. "What kind was this one?"
"I made it extra special for you. It doesn't have a name yet. I was thinking of calling it the cat's meow because I really want to see your face when you have a mouth full of—"
"Hi, you two love birds."
"Ida, hey!" Hazel said like she hadn't just implied she wanted me to eat her out. Had she been implying it?
"Drinks?" Hazel asked.
"Yes, please. It's sweltering out," the older woman said.
Several other seniors filed in, and they busied themselves with pulling out their painting supplies. There was something different about them, though.
Hazel and I noticed at the exact same time. "What are you wearing?"
Ida posed. "Isn't it marvelous?"
Each elderly woman was wearing a shirt with a crop of the painting Hazel had done of my face superimposed on a stylized night sky. The script on their shirts said,Svensson Gazing.
"We made them," Otis said proudly. "They're really popular shirts."
"What the—"
Otis interpreted my shock as pleasant surprise not, oh my God, that's a creepy shirt.
"There's a factory nearby that does print-on-demand shirts," Theo said. "We collected orders through Facebook!"
"You can't just take a painting that someone else did and sell it," I said, trying to find some way of keeping that shirt out of circulation.
"We made the star background," Otis said defiantly.
"But Hazel painted that picture of me," I scolded. "You don't have rights to it."
"Actually you do," Hazel said. I looked at her.
"When you bought it, you also bought all the rights to distribute and replicate it."
"Well you two didn't ask me for the rights," I told my little brothers. "I should start charging you."
"We're trying to run a business!" Otis complained.
"I'm just kidding," I told them, ruffling their hair.
