“If things between me and Gavin don’t work out, is it going to be bad for you at the firm?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Could be awkward. But if you’re really unhappy with Gavin, I’ll deal.”
“I’m sorry. I know you really want to live in L.A.”
“It is what it is. I’ll find a way.”
She rested her elbows on the table. “Why here? Most finance guys want to be in New York City. And a job offer from Sterling & Wilson is nothing to scoff at.” From what she’d overheard, Barron Sterling didn’t hire idiots, or even average performers.
“Well.” Pete shifted, crossing his legs. “There’s the beach.”
Her eyebrows rose. “You haven’t been surfing since college.”
“The weather’s great.”
“Which you never take advantage of since you’re always working.” She pinned him with the “don’t bullshit your older sister” stare.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh…a woman” —he coughed into his hand— “might be involved.”
“Ah.” A woman? He probably meant women. She sat back, not at all interested in hearing about her brother’s sex life.
L.A. had loads of hot women, many of them aspiring actresses. No wonder her brother loved the city. She polished off the whipped cream floating on the top of her hot chocolate. “Believe me, I hope things work out between me and Gavin more than anyone. I appreciate your concern and advice, Pete.”
“Not a problem. Let’s do lunch next time. I found this great Italian place that has killer garlic toast.”
“That sounds delicious. But don’t you eat at your desk?”
He gave her a charming grin. “I can always make time for my sister.”
* * *
After her three o’clock snack, Amandine walked down the hall to the studio. She was carrying the sketch of Gavin she’d done in Thailand, intending to recreate it life-size on canvas.
Color will be a challenge, she thought. The details of the room, the light and so on were a little fuzzy. But the work didn’t need to reflect objective reality. If that were the case, she could’ve just snapped a photo. This was about her memory of her husband, her impressions and feelings.
And most importantly, her hopes.
Amandine entered the studio and stopped, staring at the unfinished work on the easel. Dark colors covered what few streaks of dull red and yellow she’d started out with. There was something stark and sorrowful about the piece. She normally finished every painting she started, but her insides grew cold at the idea of finishing this one.
The painting was something she’d worked on during a particularly difficult period in her life, and her misery had poured out onto the canvas. It seemed crazy to try to finish it now, when she felt so much more hopeful.
She took it down and turned it against the wall. Then she rooted around in the built-in storage unit, searching for a suitably sized blank canvas.
Ah-ha! Her lips lifted. Perfect. Carefully, she pulled the sheet out.
“Hey! Don’t move anything big yourself.”
She looked over a shoulder and there was Gavin, dressed in another of his classic European suits. The gorgeously tailored silk molded to his broad shoulders and strong lines. Her breath caught as her body tingled with memories of the previous night.
“It’s not heavy,” she managed to say in a normal tone of voice.
“Still.” He strode over and took the canvas from her. “You could lose your balance.”
She sighed inwardly. “I’m pregnant, not drunk.”
“Where’s Brooke?”
“In the office, trying to sort out my art supplies and other stuff from Thailand.”