“What do you want,” I grate out, grinding out the amber end of my cancer stick against the brick wall. As I turn to face him, I flick the butt into a potted plant.
Tod hovers in the doorway, his lanky frame backlit. “I just wanted to say, well, two things. First, I’m sorry I upset you the other day. I shouldn’t have kissed Lavender.”
“You fucking kissed her?” The soles of my shoes scrape against the pavers, a burst of anger propelling me to action.
“N-o!” He jerks back toward the light and the safety of the building. “I wanted to, but I didn’t. She pushed me away before you…”
I curl my hands around the doorjamb and lean in menacingly. “Beat the fuck out of you?”You could do it now, whispers a little voice that seems to shout a little louder since Lavender became part of my life.A temporary part.
His brows become one waving line, like he doesn’t understand.
“You realize Lavender’s presence was the only thing preventing that?”
“Oh.” He steps backward again. “Right. Okay.” Another step. “I’m so sorry. Again. Please believe me, I have apologized so hard—I mean—so much to Ned.”
“Who the fuck is Ned?” I step over the threshold, and his eyes widen.
This is too fucking easy. I must be bored.
“Lavender, I mean. It’s just my… my nickname for her.”
Ned. Sounds like the name of one half of a pantomime donkey. Lavender would be the talking part. For sure, I’d be relegated to the ass.
“Lose the nickname, Tod. I’m thinking Mrs. Deveraux might be more appropriate.”
“Yes. Absolutely. Whatever you think.”
Lying turd.
“So what was the other thing?”
He hesitates, seeming to weigh up his options: run away or stand straight and explain it, man to man.
“I came to say thank you,” he says, his tone now resolute.
Maybe the third choice was insanity.
“I know you’ve done this for N-nMrs. Deveraux, but I truly can’t tell you what it means to have your support. Your patronage, however I’ve come by it.”
“My what?”
“Primrose just told me you bought the remainder of the exhibition. That it’s a sell-out!” He looks as surprised as I feel. “The news will surely spread!”
“It’syourexhibition?”
But he doesn’t seem to hear my disbelief or disgust as he gushes—fucking gushes.
It’s such a privilege…
I can’t wait to see my work in the foyer of your next hotel…
Annoyance flares inside me. Somebody shoot me—shoot me right fucking now.
I’m bankrolling this asshole? Phoning around like an idiot to get people to buyhisshit? Buying it myself!
That settles it. It’s all heading for the trash.
“Tod.”
