“Earth tones highlighted with peach.”
“These colors,” I said, indicating a portion of the canvas on the left. I looked to Tiki for confirmation and help. He gave the confirmation, but he didn’t jump in as I’d hoped.
Cole, however, picked up the thread. “She’s right, you know,” he said to Amelia. “Alone, the other painting might not work with that scheme. But see here?” He gestured between the two paintings, his movements highlighting the colors and patterns. “These browns and greens are a perfect complement to the peach and pinks over here.”
“Yeah, man, they’re right,” Tiki said. “These canvases, they’re like a team. Like bread and butter, you know what I’m sayin’?”
I watched Amelia, and saw the slow spread of a smile. It was a smile I recognized from my days and nights in Florida, pushing paintings with my dad. It was a smile that said a woman with too much money had just figured out a way to justify her spending.
In other words, my work there was done.
I pressed my palm gently against her arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to run on like that. At any rate, I’ll let you and Tiki talk. I really should go mingle.”
“Well, I don’t think we need any further debate,” I heard her say as I melted into the crowd. “We just need that nice young girl with the credit card machine.”
“That was quite the performance,” Cole said a few moments later. He took my arm and steered me to one side. I went willingly, my entire body tingling simply from the firm grip of his fingers against my bare elbow.
He walked slightly behind me, so I couldn’t see his face. “Good performance?” I asked. “Or bad performance?”
“As far as I’m concerned, you get a standing ovation.”
“Really?” I asked, ridiculously pleased that I’d impressed him.
He let go, then moved to face me. I missed his touch, but the trade-off was worth it. I’m not the kind of girl who swoons over hunky firemen calendars and I’ve only seen Magic Mike once. But as far as eye candy went, Cole was a walking, talking Milky Way bar, and at least as tempting.
“Really,” he confirmed. An easy smile bloomed on his face, and he shook his head slowly, with obvious pleasure. “I didn’t realize that working as a barista required such honed salesmanship.”
“I’m a woman of many talents,” I said, then fluttered my lashes.
“Damn right you are.” He drew in a breath as he looked at me, and try as I might, I had no clue what he was thinking.
“That was quite the commission you just brought in,” he finally said. “I have a feeling you’ll be getting Christmas cards from Tiki for the rest of your life.”
“I look forward to it. What about you?” I asked boldly, and blamed it on the wine. I met his eyes, and fervently hoped that mine really were a window to the soul, because right then I wanted him to see straight inside me. “What will I get from you?”
“That depends on what you want.”
“Want,” I repeated. Where Cole was concerned, what didn’t I want?
“I told you earlier that you owed me,” he said. “Do you want to call us even?”
“Do you?”
He was silent for a moment, and then one moment longer. “No,” he finally said.
I lifted my chin. “Good.”
His expression remained perfectly stoic, but he lifted his hand toward my face, then dropped it, as if he were a child who’d caught himself about to do something naughty.
“It’s okay,” I said, my voice almost a whisper. “I won’t break.”
“Don’t be so sure, blondie. I’ve been known to destroy even the most resilient things.”