Theo
THEO
It was damn near ten at night, and was ready for the show to end. He’d been ready for it to end about an hour ago. While was more than capable of behaving, as Blair put it, it was starting to strain his nerves. A drink or three would have helped with the irritation, but he knew full well it wouldn’t help keep him on his best behavior.
“I really must say,” one of the women who’d trapped him in conversation began. “Your attention to detail and vibrancy is just phenomenal. How do you manage it?”
chuckled, the sound weak and hollow to his ears. “Plenty of alcohol and too much time on my hands.”
The comment earned him a soft titter of laughter from the woman and her collective of associates. It was the sound of people with too much time and money on their hands and absolutely no connection to reality. It was the sound of his childhood and all the cocktail parties, charity events, and whatever other social settings his mother had dragged him to.
He snagged one of the passing workers who flitted in and out of the crowd like ghosts. “Get me something other than weak-ass Champagne, and I promise to make it worth your while.”
The worker gave a knowing smile and disappeared before could add anything else to the order. Watching him go, hoped whatever he found was good. There was only about a half-hour or so left of the official function, and hoped to have started a good buzz by then.
The woman, however, wasn’t done. “They’re positively dripping with reality. You really have captured the grim realities of some of the worst parts of the city.”
“Helps when you’re out there seeing it,” said, proud that the snark wasn’t too heavy in his voice.
“Do you have an agent?” she asked.
“I do not.”
“Well, is there any way to contact you? I would love to have a few of your paintings for an auction I’m arranging. A great deal of the proceeds from it will go to charity.”
“Oh, which one?”
“Homeless shelters and the like. You know how these things work,” she said with a disinterested wave of her hand.
was spared from having to respond to that loaded statement by the arrival of his helpful ghost. A half-full whiskey tumbler of amber liquid was placed in his hand, the tinkle of the ice loud against the glass. With a grateful wink, he slipped the man a fifty. The server blinked at the bill before stuffing it away and disappearing. knew a desperate college kid when he saw one. Who else would suffer through a night of rich people and art?
He took a drink with a soft hum of appreciation. “If you’re interested in contacting me, you can find my cards on your way out.”
“Excellent, I shall grab one on my way out.”
“You do that.”
Sensing his opportunity, he darted away when the woman turned to look at the painting again. He’d spent most of the night being pulled from one person to the next. was the only person not dressed in formal evening wear, marking him as the creator. Everyone expected an artist to be weird, or in the words of the upper crust, eccentric. It suited him just fine since it didn’t require him to get dolled up and strut his stuff like a penguin.
He took another sip, coughing slightly around the swallow, when a familiar blond appeared with an equally familiar scowl.
“,” Blair said warningly.
“Yes?” asked innocently.
“That is not Champagne.”
“Neither is what you have out for everyone.”
“.”
“Oh, come on, it’s almost the end of the night, and I’ve been a very good boy,” all but whined.
Blair rolled her eyes. “Honestly, you get asked to behave yourself for a few hours, and you act like I’ve put you on a rack.”
“That would be far more interesting than this night has been,” he told her, correcting himself as he looked around the crowd. “Didn’t know you were so kinky, though.”
“No need for you to scan the crowd. Everyone’s pretty much had their time with you already. You’re safe,” Blair assured him.
That wasn’t what he was looking for, but he shrugged in response. It had been nearly thirty minutes since he’d last seen the doc, and he was beginning to think the man had gone home. He frowned as he realized the thought gave him a sinking feeling of disappointment in his gut.
turned his attention back to Blair. “Then, by that logic, I should be perfectly fine to have a nice drink of...I don’t know, I think this is whiskey.”
“You don’t even know what you’re drinking,” Blair said.
“Not a clue, but I know it’s alcohol and good alcohol at that.”
“Honestly.”
winked at her. “You love me.”
A new voice piped up behind him. “I think I’m seeing what Emily meant.”
He turned to face another blond woman, though this one had her arm looped around the elbow of the very man had been looking for. The woman was dressed exquisitely, but ’s eyes lingered on the good doctor, whose dark blue eyes were locked on , a small smile playing on his face.
“And here I thought everyone interesting had already left,” purred.
Grant shook his head. “We were just getting ready to head home. Someone misses her bed.”
The woman sighed. “You were the one yawning, Grant. Don’t pin this one on me.”
“Mmm, I think I like this one,” said, eyeing her.
She laughed, offering her hand. “I’m Lydia. I absolutely love your work. And I’m also engaged.”
smirked, taking her hand gently and kissing her knuckles. “And here I was about to invite you both out for a drink with me.”
“And I’m sure I know what a drink would involve,” Lydia said wryly.
“Only something you would both enjoy,” said, though his eyes drifted to Grant.
“,” Blair groaned from behind him.
Lydia chuckled, using her arm to push Grant forward. “I’m spoken for. This one, however, is completely and utterly free to take you up on the offer.”
“Lydia,” Grant moaned.
She grinned wickedly, turning her gaze to Blair behind him. “I take it you know this charming man?”
“Yes, please don’t hold it against me,” Blair responded.
“Well, how about us ladies get us a drink and leave the boys to theirs,” Lydia said, stepping forward and taking Blair by the arm like they were old friends.
watched them go, raising a brow. “You know, I think I like her.”
“She’s engaged,” Grant told him.
gave a light laugh. “I meant as a person. I’m a slut, Grant, not a homewrecker.”
“Nice to know your morals are still intact.”
The delivery was deadpan, but detected wry humor underneath it. “I imagine there are several things you probably don’t know about me, Doc.”
“Yes, including the fact that you’re a surprisingly excellent painter.”
eyed him. “Surprisingly? I’m not sure if I should be offended or not.”
Grant chuckled, nodding his head. “I meant it as a compliment, though I can certainly see where my wording could use some work.”
shrugged, taking another slug of whiskey. “I have a habit, a bad one, according to my cousin, of saying what comes to mind. I’m not going to fuss because you saw me and assumed I was a burnout.”
Grant looked up sharply. “I never thought that.”
looked over himself. “Oh?”
Grant snorted. “I’ve been a doctor for far too long. I know a burnout when I see one. It’s in the eyes.”
Interesting. “Care to step outside with me?”
Grant’s sharp gaze went wary. “I believe we’ve had this discussion already.”
laughed. “I want to have a smoke, not grope you in an alley.”
“Now it’s my turn to wonder if I should be insulted or not.”
“Oh, I definitely still want to grope you, but even I have standards. Plus, you like to play hard to get, so I’m not going to jump you outside.”
“Hard to…” Grant began, shaking his head. “Why not? Lydia has obviously found someone to occupy her, and I could use the fresh air.”
turned and began walking. “It’s an alley, and I’ll be smoking. I don’t know how fresh the air will be.”
“We’re in the city. The air isn’t going to be all that fresh anyway.”
“Touché.”
With his babysitter’s attention no longer focused solely on him, strode toward the back with Grant in tow. He had no idea where Emily had gotten to, but he was glad she’d stayed out of his hair once the show started. The workers in the back barely paid them any mind once they spotted , probably assuming he was up to no good. They were simply keeping their noses clean. It would have been a fair assumption any other time he would give them that.
As soon as they stepped out into the dimly lit alley, lit up. “Ah, much better.”
Grant shuffled out after him, putting distance between him and the clouds of smoke. “I know you’re no longer my patient, but I feel obligated to point out that those are terrible for your health.”
winked at him. “Everyone’s got their vices.”
“Right along with the, as you put it, slutty behavior, and I’m guessing the drink is up there too.”
“You would not be wrong.”
“Have you rounded it out by not eating well too?”
“It’s like you already know me, Doc.”
“Grant.”
blinked. “Hm?”
“If you insist on me calling you , you can call me Grant.”
cocked his head. “Grant, it is then.”
Grant smiled at him so warmly felt his chest squeeze. “Now that we’re properly acquainted, what would it take to convince you to spend an evening with me?”
let out a laugh. “Uh, I think we already established how interested I am.”
Grant shook his head. “Not your idea of an evening, but mine.”
“And what would that be?”
“You and me. Maybe some food, a couple of drinks.”
“So, a date.”
“Yes.”
It wasn’t the first time someone had offered to go on a date with him. Though usually date in most people’s vocabulary translated to drinks, half-hearted conversation, and finding their way to somewhere private. Considering Grant’s previous reaction to ’s direct attempt to get into his pants, he didn’t think that was the doc’s motivation.
“You want to wine and dine me?” asked slowly.
Grant chuckled. “You don’t seem the type to enjoy being wined and dined.”
“And we come back around to whether or not I should be offended.”
Grant turned his attention to the door that had closed behind him. “If you’d wanted to fit in with the people here, you easily could have. A suit would have covered tattoos, and your piercings could have been removed for a few hours. Instead, you put yourself on display.”
narrowed his eyes. “What’s your point?”
A smile quirked at the corner of Grant’s mouth. “My point is that you mark yourself as an outsider of this world, or rather that world. So why would I try to take you somewhere fancy and ritzy if you obviously don’t want to be there.”
snorted. “Alright, fair enough. I don’t exactly make an effort to pretend otherwise.”
Grant looked at him thoughtfully, and wondered what was going through the older man’s head. The doctor was behaving differently than at their last meeting, more at ease. That might have something to do with not practically climbing into his lap this time.
“There are plenty of places in this city that don’t require you to be anything other than who you are,” Grant told him.
had heard plenty of loaded statements in his lifetime. Hell, you had to understand and use them to survive in his family. But he didn’t think he’d quite heard anything that sounded like a promise of something good. Grant watched him, blue eyes catching the weak light over the door. It left feeling oddly naked in a way he wasn’t familiar with.
snorted. “Alright, you show me yours, and I’ll show you mine.”
“I’m not looking for your body, .”
And another loaded statement, dangerous. “What’s wrong with my body.”
“Nothing,” Grant said in a low voice.
winked. “Well, I just mean, you dine me, and I’ll wine you.”
“A two-parter movie then,” Grant said in amusement.
“Yeah, but hopefully not one of those shitty made-for-TV things. Otherwise, I might think twice about making eye contact again.”
“Hollywood style it is, only the best writers involved,” Grant offered.
“You’ve got yourself a deal,” said.
“How’s Sunday work?” Grant asked.
reached into the pocket of his jeans, drawing out a card with his number written on the back. “How about you give me the time and the place, and I’ll meet you there.”
Grant took it, looking at the handwritten number. “You keep your number on a card just in case?”
“I was planning on giving it to you if I saw you again,” told him.
There was a sparkle in Grant’s eyes as he slipped the card into his jacket. “Now, I’m left to wonder how I made such a good impression.”
“I guess you’ll have to wait until Sunday to find out.”
“Apparently.”
Before they could say anything else, a familiar voice called from the mouth of the alley.
“Grant! There you are. Lord, I’ve been looking all over for you.”
Grant faced the sidewalk, smirking at Lydia. “And here I thought I was the one who wanted to go home.”
Lydia eyed the alleyway, apparently deciding against trekking down it. “You were, but now it’s my turn.”
chuckled. “Go on. Don’t take too long to get back to me. I might think you’ve lost your nerve.”
Grant chuckled, squeezing ’s wrist before walking off. “Talk to you soon, .”
watched him go before returning to the gallery. There was no way in hell he would be caught staring after the man until he was out of sight. Dr. Andrews was far more charming than had initially believed, and it was the kind of charm wasn’t sure how to resist. Worse, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to.
“Ah, there you are,” Emily said as she inched over to him once he emerged on the show floor.
“Went for a smoke,” said with a shrug.
“Yes, I can smell that. You’ll be pleased to know everything went off without a hitch. We sold all but a handful, and several people have expressed interest in commissioning more from you.”
“Oh, joy, more work determined by someone with a fat wallet,” grumbled, eyes searching the walls.
“You’re the artist. You determine what you take on and don’t,” Emily said diplomatically.
“Yeah, I know,” grumbled, eyes catching on a painting on the wall.
“Something wrong?”
inched closer to the painting of the cliffs above the crashing sea. Much like so many paintings on the walls, a little ‘sold’ sign was on the placard beneath it. Now, that was interesting. He’d shown this painting off more than once, and there’d never been so much as a nibble. It wasn’t as if he was asking a great deal for it. He rarely did with the paintings he personally, albeit privately, favored.
“Ah yes, the unnamed painting. Blair told me you’ve not had luck with it before,” Emily said, drawing out her tablet from who knew where.
cocked his head. “Yeah. This was going to be the last time I put it on display before I tucked it away for good.”
Emily nodded. “Well, now you won’t have to. The man was quite insistent that he wanted the original. He told me he wanted something meaningful to add to his office. Even paid the full price for it rather than the offered discount.”
looked at her. “Really? And what office is this getting thrown up in?”
God, please do not be a banker.
Emily tapped a few times. “A Dr. Grant Andrews.”
looked back at the painting, a private smile on his face. “Well, isn’t that interesting?”