“I hear the artist may be a future nephew-in-law of mine.”
Arik actually choked on his drink. Bending forward, he put his hand across his mouth, attempting to swallow the liquid instead of losing it on the floor.
“Now, Connie, leave the boy alone,” his father said, coming up on his other side, giving him a firm, good-natured whack on his back, which didn’t help his current situation at all. “I’ve been considering buying you and Diana matching mink coats. Something like this.”
He didn’t even need to look at the cell phone his father shoved in front of their faces. In his heart, he knew it was that damn picture of BT, and an indescribable need to retaliate against his cousin grew solid in his belly. Gage had officially crossed every line.
“Gage sent me a picture of this pretty fellow today. Said I needed to say something about missed commissions when I showed everyone. I’m sure you know what he’s talking about, right? Now, remember, I’m just the messenger.” His father looked way too excited for a man selling out his son.
Once composed, Arik cocked a brow and looked at his father then over to his uncle who took the phone in his hand for closer inspection and visibly cringed at the picture before looking over at him with a horrified expression.
“Oh, A, the artist is such a better choice,” his aunt said as she took the phone from her husband for a better look.
A million different responses clogged his brain. Arik blinked several times, trying to find the right words. Most were too inappropriate to say in front of his parents. All Arik could do was shake his head and lift his glass to down the rest of his champagne as Trent walked up.
“You look dashing tonight. Is that a new suit?” his Aunt Connie asked Trent.
Connie loved Trent. The whole damn family loved Trent. What was not to love? The guy was hot and stayed quiet about ninety percent of the time, making him the best, most perfect guy on the planet compared to this bunch surrounding him right now. His uncle took the phone and pushed the device into Trent’s hands before he had a chance to answer. Trent just nodded, his facial expression stayed blank, all except the way he rolled his lips inside his mouth, probably to keep from laughing.
“Yeah, I saw him in person when they came in.”
His Uncle Jack busted out with a laugh at Trent’s carefully phrased words.
“So it’s true. We all know Gage can be inventive at times. I had doubts it was real,” his uncle replied.
“Arik, what were you thinking?” his mother asked, moving closer to get a better look at the picture. “The screen darkened. Turn it back on so I can see him again. I need those boots!”
This was all too much to handle right now. Arik carefully extricated himself from the group and headed to the bar a few feet away. He motioned the bartender for a double of anything, because the champagne wasn’t going to be enough tonight. He could hear his parents passing the phone around again, speculating all sorts of things about BT as Trent stepped up next to him.
“I try to stay out of your and Gage’s shenanigans.”
Arik squared his shoulders and lifted a hand to Trent’s shoulder, giving him a reassuring pat.
“I would have paid handsomely had you stopped him from taking that picture,” Arik said, then stopped that line of thinking knowing he’d have his day where Gage was concerned. “It’s not a problem. I’ll have the last laugh. What do you want to drink?”
“A Maker’s Mark Old Fashioned.”
Arik made sure the bartender heard before turning back to Trent who leaned in closer to him and spoke in hushed tones. “So you need to know he’s got a prize offered up on social media tonight. Anyone who shares posts about the gallery opening is automatically entered in a drawing to win a weekend stay here.” Trent stared him straight in the eyes, letting him absorb those words. He suspected there was some sort of meaning that he was supposed to get based on the intensity in the look Trent continued to give.
“Okay…” Seconds passed before Trent finally spoke again.
“In your suite,” Trent added, apologetically.
“Fucking dickhead,” Arik exploded, not caring about the volume in which he spoke.
“Shh! I gave you the heads up, but he’s pretty damn excited about dropping that bomb on you later tonight. Keep this between us?” Trent asked, reaching out to grip Arik’s arm, while the other hand came close to his mouth, physically trying to silence him.
It took a second before he gritted out, “Most definitely.”
Right then he decided, if his cousin wanted to play dirty, then game on. He wasn’t sure how to get him back, but he would certainly be ready when the opportunity presented itself. Downing his drink in one gulp, he patted Trent on the shoulder before turning and heading for the gallery.