Jack answered. “Got him and Kyle full custody of Ruthie, man. Angie got Addison to sign the papers.”
Frankie’s mouth fell open. “That’s incredible.”
“I’ll say.” Harper looked as amazed as Frankie felt. “When did this happen?"
“Just,” Jack said. “Angie got back late last night. He texted me that he could concentrate on my case now, if I needed anything else, and after we talked, I decided to get him to do the same for me.”
“Wait,” Harper said, brow furrowing. “Are you saying you’re offering Monica some kind of settlement not to post those pictures?”
Frowning, he nodded. “I know it’s like admitting I’m guilty but—”
“No.” Harper crossed her arms. “I don’t think you should do this, Jack. It definitely makes you look guilty. And that could come back to bite you. What’s to stop her from asking for more money? She could be after you the rest of your life.”
It wasn’t Frankie’s business, but she’d come to care about Jack. “I agree with Harper. If the paparazzi came after you just because you were on vacation, what will they do to you if they find out about this?”
Jack’s morose expression nearly broke her heart. “What else am I going to do, man? I’m stuck.”
Frankie’s mothering instincts came out, even if the man was nearly her age. “I don’t know, Jack. But we’ll figure something out. Won’t we, Harper?”
Harper nodded. “We will. Just give us a day or two, okay? Don’t have Angelo do anything yet. Please.”
He swallowed. “Okay. Yeah. Thanks, man. I’m sorry.”
“You know what you need?” Frankie said. “Some breakfast. Sit down.” She started spreading almond butter on the toast. “Harper, get him a cup of coffee.”
Harper smirked and did as she was told.
Jack took a seat at the counter.
“You good with almond butter and honey on toast?”
Jack nodded. “Sounds great. You guys are so nice.”
Frankie laughed. “We’re just human beings taking care of another human being.”
He smiled and settled into the seat a little more. “How’s the painting coming?”
“It’s all right,” Frankie said. She drizzled honey over two slices of the almond buttered toast and set the plate in front of him.
Harper added a cup of coffee, setting the creamer and sugar next to it.
“Could I see it?” Jack asked. He spooned sugar into his coffee.
Frankie’s mouth opened, but she didn’t have an immediate answer. It was one thing for family to see the painting in such a raw state, another for it to be viewed by the man who was paying good money for it. He might not understand the process. Might think she should be further along. Or that it should look different.
“Hey,” Harper said, leaning on the counter near him. “Don’t you have a blanket to knit?”
“Yeah, but—”
“It’s okay,” Frankie said softly. “I understand wanting to have a look, it’s just that the painting is in the early stages, and it doesn’t look like much. I don’t know if you’d…like what you saw.”
He’d taken a big bite of toast. He chewed, gaze thoughtful, only speaking when his mouth was empty. “I get it, man. I don’t like too many people on set, especially when I’m feeling my way into a character, you know what I mean? I was just curious. About the process and how it becomes a painting. Like the mechanics of the creative way.”
She hesitated. “As long as you understand that it’s really rough. And that it takes time and a lot of tweaking to get it to where I want it to be.”
His nod was solemn. He put his hand on his heart. “I swear I won’t say a thing, man. I’m just curious. That’s all. I respect art and the artist deeply.” He picked up his toast again. “This is killer, by the way. Can you teach me to make this?”
Frankie laughed. “It’s just toast with almond butter and honey.”
