Chapter 27 – James
JAMES
“I’m done,” Beau groans, leaning back in his chair. “I’m done coming to poker night until Ryan stops wearing that sweater.”
“What, this sweater?” Ryan points to his jumper, a neon green atrocity featuring a picture of his own face.
“Yes,” Nate and I reply in unison.
“It’s called self-promotion,” Ryan replies. “I’m building Ryan Archer the brand. This is part of the merch you can find on my website.”
“Not even your girlfriend is visiting your website,” Beau says.
“Tell that to the sold-out stock of Ryan Archer shirtless calendars,” Ryan gloats. “I have fans, my friends, and they want to show the world how much they love me with their customized merch.”
“None of those fans are sitting at this table,” Beau grumbles. “And we’re the ones who have to look at your ugly-ass top.”
“My eyes are ready to stab themselves with toothpicks if I have to keep looking at that affront to taste and style,” Luke drawls.
“You’re reading too much Jane Austen, dude,” Beau jokes. “You’re starting to sound like the BBC.”
Luke shrugs. “It’s what Brinley picked for this month’s Copper Cup book club. Mansfield Park. I didn’t have a choice.”
“You could have skipped book club,” Nate points out as he deals the next hand.
“I know, but I’m trying to convince my sister to be friends with me. Book club read Wuthering Heights last month, and I think that was the first civil conversation I've had with Brinley that lasted longer than five minutes.”
I shoot him a sympathetic glance. Luke has been trying to repair his relationship with Brinley for years now, ever since the event that shattered their connection in the first place.
I’ve always regretted my part in the whole “Never Have I Ever” disaster.
Maybe now that time has passed, I can help smooth things over.
“If you want, I can ask Maura to talk to her,” I offer.
Luke snorts. “I don't think I can even afford to talk to Maura at this point. The woman makes million-dollar paintings, bro. She probably charges $20 for every second of her time.”
“Her time is valuable,” I say with a shrug. “And now, so is her art.”
“If you wanted to support her work, you didn't have to drop a mil,” Ryan says. “You could have just bought her a nice watercolor set.”
“I wanted the painting, and I paid what it was worth,” I say, a little smugly. “I'm not the only one who thinks so. Her show completely sold out.”
Beau lets out a low whistle. “Damn. Well, good for her. I might not know much about art, but I know enough to know she's the real fucking deal.”
“Actually, I wanted to float something by James before I asked Maura,” Luke says.
“Twisted Devil is releasing a new small batch line, ultra delicious, ultra exclusive. I wanted to do something special with the bottles, and after seeing Maura’s show—well, any chance she’d be remotely interested in a collab? ”
I glance at my cards—an ace and a ten, off-suite. A nice start.
“Ask her,” I suggest. “I’m not sure how many commissions she has now, but I’m sure she’d be interested if there’s room in her schedule.”
I throw in double the big blind and wait to see if anyone bites. Ryan and Nate do.
“What if I pay the cost of materials?” Beau offers as he discards.
“That’ll be higher than you think. She uses rare stones in her work, grinds them up to put in the paint. It can get pricey.”
“What do you mean, real stones? Like unobtanium?” Ryan asks.
Luke swats his arm. “That’s from Avatar.”
Nate turns over the flop. There’s a jack, which brings me toward a straight. The odds are bad enough that I don’t raise.
“Think more like Greek porphyry and Spessartine garnet.”
Nate raises a brow. “That’s awfully specific.”
I shrug. They also took me a long time to learn to pronounce. Maura tends to scribble down mineral names on the edges of the papers she leaves scattered everywhere. I’ve started taking note of them while I organize those papers into neat stacks.
“Let me guess, you’re going to spend your honeymoon at the bottom of a cave somewhere, chipping away with a tiny pickaxe,” Beau says.
“Hey!” Ryan elbows him. “James would have a big, manly pickaxe. I'm looking out for you, bro.”
“Thanks, but we’re not having a honeymoon.” Maura and I never discussed it, but what was there to discuss? We didn't have a traditional wedding, and I have far too much work to take off just to lie on a beach. With Maura's high-necked clothing, I can't imagine she yearns to put on a bikini, either.
Beau frowns. “Wait a minute. You have to have a honeymoon.”
“You remember this is a contract marriage, right?” Nate points out. “It's not like Maura and James sit around whispering sweet nothings to each other. It's not about romance.”
“Well, maybe it should be.” Beau crosses his arms. “Just because a relationship starts one way doesn't mean that's the way it has to end. Maura’s beautiful and talented and really cool. It’s not like spending a few days enjoying her company somewhere exotic would be torture. It might even be fun.”
“James doesn’t like fun,” Ryan says.
“I like fun,” I grumble.
The next card is an eight, giving me no chance at a straight. When Ryan raises, I fold and watch him and Nate battle it out.
Beau does have a point. Maura won't expect a honeymoon, but I could still take her on a trip. Somewhere she could source some of her rarer stones. I could even combine it with a business trip, so I wouldn't fall too behind at work.
Sequel is about to start filming one of our biggest shows, Annie in Athens, in a month.
The Greek tourism board, which funds half of the show, has been inviting me out to take meetings about creating more spinoffs.
Maura and I could jet off to the Greek islands for a few days.
She could get her porphyry, and she can spend her days in art museums in Athens while I meet with the bigwigs.
“Beau, you might be right,” I admit.
He cups his hand around his ear. “Excuse me? Could you say that again?”
I ignore him. “I’ve got business in Athens next week. I could take Maura to Paros to get her stones on the way.”
“How romantic,” Nate says dryly.
“You take your wife on business trips constantly.”
His mouth twitches. “Trips where I buy her flowers and fuck her brains out.”
“And that’s romance?” I glare at Beau, who looks thoughtful.
“It depends on the kind of flowers and the kind of fucking, I guess.”
“So if I make love to Maura on a bed of rose petals and then go to a work meeting, I pass your romance requirements?”
“No. When it comes to romance, I’m pretty sure you’re hopeless.” Beau sighs. “Then again, it’s not like your wife has a romantic streak, either. Maura would probably be happy if you proposed to her with some chunk of fancy rock in a quarry.”
“And nothing will make me happy until Ryan burns that goddamn sweater,” Luke complains. “I’m sick of looking at it.”
“Oh, I forgot to show you!” Ryan darts up and lowers the lights. “It glows in the dark.”
“I can’t believe he has a girlfriend and I don’t,” Beau groans.
Maura’s in her studio when I get back to the penthouse, sitting cross-legged on the ground with a paintbrush in her hand. The canvas in front of her has been washed with a dark blue paint, and she’s adding on smaller swatches of copper.
I knock on the doorframe. “Do you have a moment?”
She grins back at me. “I don’t know. Did you check my calendar?”
I sigh. My wife's calendar is functionally useless. She rarely bothers to add anything to it, other than the purple slots which are automatically added from our shared calendar.
“Your calendar says you’re free all of next week. Is that accurate?”
She nods. “I've got some painting to do, but I don't have any deadlines. Why?”
“I have some meetings in Greece next week. I thought you might like to come with me.”
“Really?” Her eyes widen with surprise. “You want to bring me on a business trip?”
I shift my weight. Maybe the idea isn’t appealing to her.
The way I asked it, it did sort of sound like asking her to tag along.
“Yes. You'd be welcome to sightsee without me while I'm working, but I thought we might spend a few days on the islands.
Some of the stones you've been looking for are from Greece, right?”
“Greek porphyry,” she breathes.
“Right. We could get some for you, and any other stones that catch your eye. Are you interested?”
“Yes!” she blurts out, not taking a second to think. “Yes, that sounds amazing. I’d love to. I mean, if you don't mind taking me with you.”
The way her eyes light up floods my chest with warmth. It’s easy to make my wife happy. Simply remembering to bring her coffee makes her smile. The rewarding feeling I get from finding the exact gesture to make her this ecstatic, though—I wish I could bottle it, to save for long days at work.
“I don't mind at all.”