The Girl in the Painting

“Well…that was kind of a lie…”

If she invited our Aunt Bethany, I’m leaving. It’s one thing to watch them verbally spar with each other inside the safety of my parents’ house, but it’s a whole other thing to take the freak show out in public.

I open my mouth to question her further, but I’m interrupted.

“Looks like the other person in your party is already here,” Marley says, and I glare at Brutus, the backstabbing sister formerly known as Lily.

“Who’s here, Lil?” I whisper, and she grimaces.

“Don’t be mad, okay?”

Marley gestures toward us with a polite hand. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to your table.”

Lily averts her gaze entirely and follows Marley’s lead, giving me no other option but to do the same.

Past the bar area, through the main dining room, and toward a back room that has an incredible view of the river, we follow the hostess until she stops at a booth in the corner.

“Here you are,” she announces and sets our menus down on the table.

When Marley finally shuffles aside to head back toward the front of the restaurant, I damn near fall on my face. His honey-brown eyes twinkle like the reflections on the river behind him.

My heart starts training for a fucking marathon inside my chest.

Ansel Bray is here. Sitting at our table.

One. Two. Three.

Ansel

Inside the sapphire-blue depths of Indy’s eyes, I watch as recognition turns to shock and confusion. The woman standing beside her—the one I shamelessly bribed to get Indy here—smiles a million-dollar smile.

I stand up to greet them, and since Lily seems more amenable, I extend my hand toward her with a friendly curl of my lips. “I take it you’re Lily Davis.”

“I am. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” she says and shakes my hand with a firm grip before turning toward her sister. “Indy, I’d like you to meet Ansel Bray. This is the artist whose exhibition we saw at Aquavella.”

Indy worries her bottom lip with a nip of her teeth for a moment, and then two, and when the silence between us pushes past normal and veers right into awkward, Lily offers a discreet nudge into her sister’s arm.

Instantly, Indy blinks and clears her throat. “It’s…uh…nice to meet you,” she responds, acting like I’m a complete stranger, and shakes my outstretched hand.

So that’s how it’s going to be.

Obviously, she didn’t tell her sister about meeting me, and her sister didn’t clue her in on the details of this dinner. I, Ansel Bray, am the center of their Venn diagram of deceit.

And I’m not going to be the one to expose any of it.

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” I say instead. “Please, sit down.”

The girls settle into the seats across from mine, and after quickly studying the menu, Lily doesn’t hesitate to dive right into the meat of her interview. “So, tell me, are you painting my sister on purpose, or is it a coincidence?”

“Lily!” Indy snaps, her back stiffening and the muscles of her shoulders locking tight with tension. “What are you doing?”

Lily rolls her eyes. “Interviewing him. That’s why he’s here.”

I nearly laugh at Lily’s boldness, but Indy’s discomfort is far too palpable. So, instead, I offer a kind smile and rub my fingers across the five-day-old scruff on my chin.

“Well, while I can definitely see the resemblance, I don’t know the reason for it.”

It’s not a complete lie. I may have an overwhelming certainty that it’s Indy—and not just someone who looks like her—but I don’t know the reason.

“See, Indigo?” Lily nudges her sister. “Even the artist thinks you look like her.”

Indy tries to glare and fake a smile at the same time. It’s quite possibly one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen.

Lily, finally noticing just how uncomfortable Indy is, sighs heavily and puts her elbows on the table to lean toward me. “Okay. I have a bit of a confession to make…” She pauses and pouts slightly. “I may have told my sister a little white lie to get her here.”

Yeah, that’s pretty apparent.

I turn my gaze to Indy. “And where did you think you were going tonight?”

“To dinner,” she says, and one corner of her mouth turns down. “But I was told this was a girls’ night.”

The way her annoyance reddens her cheeks makes me laugh. “Didn’t expect a cock in the henhouse?”

The flush in her cheeks deepens. “No.”

And what she really didn’t expect was me. An unspoken statement but true all the same.

“You wouldn’t have come along,” Lily argues. “And you being here was a condition of getting the interview!”

Ah, shit. Looks like the cat’s out of the bag.

“Is that how it went?” Instantly, Indy locks her gaze with mine. “Did you blackmail my sister?”

“Off the record?” I ask, and Lily nods, a smile curling the corners of her lips. “I’d really call this more extortion than blackmail.”