“That surprises me—you seem like you would.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re very…free-spirited. And you’re an artist.”
“I see. Well, sorry to disappoint you. What’s your favorite color?”
“I don’t have one.”
“That’s stupid. Everyone has a favorite color.”
He arched one dark eyebrow. “Did you just call me stupid?”
“No. Your lack of favorite color is stupid.”
“Fine, what’s yours?”
“Well, I’m an artist, so I have a close relationship with color. I like cool colors—they’re very calming. And of course warm colors are quite passionate. So I have to say my favorite color is…glitter.”
He laughed and she felt a small tug of gratification that she’s managed to pull an expression of humor out of him. “That isn’t a color.”
“Sure it is. I’m an expert. I don’t question you about merchandising and advertising and everything else you have a hand in. Siblings?” she asked.
“No,” he said. “You?”
“Two. My sister is a pediatrician and my brother is a second-string quarterback for the Seahawks. Impressive, I know.”
“Very. So how did you get into art?”
She fought off the sting of embarrassment that always came when she had to talk about Jack and Emma. It wasn’t fair, really. They deserved their success. They earned it. They had talent, and they worked hard.
They didn’t deserve for her to make it about her. Still, it was never fun to talk about. But talking about it was better than living in a town where everyone knew that you were, without question, the big letdown of your family.
“I’ve always been interested in it. Started drawing and painting really young.”
“Did you go to school for it?”
“No.” She shook her head, kept her tone light. No big deal. It was no big deal. “I never really liked school. Just wasn’t my thing.”
“And what did your parents think of that?”
“Would you like me to lie down on the couch before you continue?”
“Just a question.”
“Well, uh…they’ve never been that impressed with my interests. My grades in school were bad, and they were spending a lot of money sending Jack and Emma to school already, even with the help of scholarships and…and they didn’t want to pay to send me too when they knew I wouldn’t apply myself. So the not going to school was a mutual decision.”
She could feel Dante’s dark gaze boring into her. “A mutual decision?”
She shrugged. “I mean, I might have gone if they…”
“But they wouldn’t.”
“No.”
“Should we tell your parents about the wedding?”
The subject change threw her for a moment. “Oh, it’s…No, probably not. It’s not like it will be huge news outside of our circle here. Your circle here, I should say and anyway…they won’t really approve of the whole thing with Ana.” An understatement. She could just hear her mother’s skepticism.
Do you think you can handle it, Paige? Filled with concern, and a bit of condescension.
But she could handle it. She was sure she could. She was almost completely sure. Again, the bigness of it all threatened to swamp her completely. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d really wanted something. The last time succeeding had been so important, if it ever had been.
It was so much easier to just not care. But with Ana, she couldn’t.
“They don’t approve of you adopting?” he asked.
She shrugged and put her focus back on her food. “I haven’t talked to them about it, but I figure if I save it until everything is final I can spare everyone a lot of angst. It still might not work out.” Her throat tightened, terror wrapping icy fingers around her neck.
“It will,” he said, total confidence in his tone. “We have the media involved which, now that I think of it, is very likely going to work in your favor. I doubt social services want reports out about how they denied an adoption to a child’s lifelong, primary caregiver.”
“You may have a point. I have to ask, though, what’s really in it for you? Because I don’t have any guarantee that you won’t back out. I know you talked about easing business deals but clearly you make deals just fine without me, so I can’t fathom why it would suddenly be important.”