Twisted Love (Twisted 1)

“Now.”

My smile cut across my face with the precision of a honed knife. “Careful with the tone, Fred. Ava is your best employee. You wouldn’t want to alienate her or any customers who value her opinion very highly, would you?”

He blinked, his eyes darting around as his tiny brain struggled to process the not-so-subtle threat behind my words. “N-no, of course not,” Fred stuttered. “In fact, Ava, you stay right here with this gentleman. I’ll pack the piece myself.”

“But she’ll get the commission.” I arched an eyebrow.

“Yes.” The manager nodded so fast he resembled a bobblehead doll. “Of course.”

While he scurried off to another part of the gallery, Ava leaned in and hissed, “Alex, the piece costs $40,000.”

“Really? Shit.”

“I’m sure we can—”

“I thought it was expensive.” I allowed myself a soft laugh at her stunned expression. “It’s not a big deal. I’ll own a new piece of art, you’ll receive a hefty commission, and your manager will kiss your ass until the end of days. Win-win.”

Fred returned with a large black-and-white print.

Fifteen minutes later, the print had been packaged with the same care one would use to handle a newborn baby, and my bank account was forty thousand dollars lighter.

“This weekend, our usual time, Z Hotel,” I told Ava after dismissing Fred.

Her eyebrows shot up. We usually practiced at one of our houses or near a lake or Thayer’s pool so she could get more comfortable near water.

“It has the best indoor pool in D.C.,” I explained. “You’re ready for actual swimming lessons.”

She’d been ready for a while, but I’d wanted to make sure before throwing her into the deep end, so to speak.

Ava sucked in a breath. “Really?”

“Yeah.” I flashed a crooked smile. “See you Saturday, Sunshine.”

I left the gallery in a remarkably better mood than when I’d entered.