Vera cackled at my offer. “No thanks, Molls! I’d rather not die of food poisoning just months before my wedding. But any time you want a decent meal, you’re welcome here.”
My heart warmed knowing she was serious. There had been so many secrets between Vera and me while she was with Derrek, that I had often wondered if things would ever be totally honest between us again. I knew she was convinced she was a good liar, but those closest to her saw the truth. She had lived in fear for a long time. She had been oppressed and hurt and broken.
And she’d kept it all bottled up inside her, afraid that we would be carried away in the riptide of her crisis.
When she’d finally left Derrek, she’d run away to Europe. She’d claimed it was for cooking, to hone her skills and expand her palate. But I had been her best friend since childhood. I saw right through her. She’d been terrified to face us, to tell us the truth. She’d been afraid of the consequences for a failed relationship that was not her fault.
Our relationship had taken some serious work to rebuild, even after she finally came back to Durham. She hadn’t been ready to trust for a long time, not even me or Vann or her dad. She’d still carried the weight of Derrek’s abuse on her shoulders like a hiking backpack filled with boulders.
Slowly, bit by bit, we’d pieced our relationship back together. And slowly, bit by bit, she’d picked up the shattered remnants of her career, life and spirit. But nothing really clicked until Killian came into the picture.
Things were finally back to normal. There was no more reason to worry about her or wonder if she’d ever truly heal. She was damaged by Derrek, but not destroyed. She had been hurt by tragedy, but not defeated.
She was an inspiration to me. I saw what she’d been through and what she’d overcome and secretly longed to have those same victories. Our struggles were widely different, but she inspired hope that things wouldn’t always be this hard, this confusing, that maybe my backpack wouldn’t always be this heavy. She had this gorgeous happy ending that I couldn’t help but want to mimic.
She was the fairy tale that I aspired to be.
Killian and Vera walked us to the door while Vann ordered an Uber for himself from his phone. Vera pulled me into a hug on her porch, the chilly night air nibbling on our skin. It went straight up my spine thanks to my backless shirt and I wiggled into her, clinging for warmth.
“Make sure you work the whole time you’re in the car with him. Then call me in the morning and tell me all about how productive you two were.”
I chose to ignore her innuendos. “I will call you tomorrow,” I told her. “And you’ll be so impressed with everything. It’s going to blow your mind!”
She giggled and said, “Who’s mind is it going to blow?”
I stepped away from her. “Oh, my gosh, you are a pervert.”
“See how the tables have turned?” She swirled her finger back and forth between us. “Not so fun on the other side now, is it?”
“No,” I agreed. “I much prefer being the depraved sidekick.”
“What are you two talking about?” Killian asked.
“Nothing!” we said together.
Ezra jerked his head toward his super exclusive car that nobody was allowed to ride in or touch or look at. “Ready, Molly?”
“Yep.” Vera and I said our final goodbyes, I thanked our hosts again for a lovely dinner and got into Ezra’s car for the third time more conscious than ever about not messing something up.
When we were back on the road and headed toward my apartment building, I decided I needed to prove Vera wrong. So, ignoring the warm tipsy feeling from the wine, I reached into my purse and pulled out my work notebook and phone.
The night was chilly, but Ezra’s car was the opposite. The heated seat warmed my back, making me cozy and sleepy. The city zipped by us in late-night silence. Mumford and Sons drifted softly from the stereo in the background.
It’s in the eyes. I can tell, you will always be danger.
I shivered at the truth in those lyrics. Ezra noticed and reached over to adjust the heat settings.
Feeling raw and exposed for no reason at all, I hugged my notebook to my chest and asked, “What did you want to go over?”
He looked at me briefly, his dark eyes giving nothing away. “I want to hire you.”
Cocking my head to the side, I resisted the urge to smile. “You already hired me.”
“To paint,” he clarified. “I have an idea for Bianca that I—”
“No.” He couldn’t be serious. “Absolutely not.”
“You haven’t even heard my proposal.”
My expression flattened. “This feels familiar. Are you getting déjà vu?”
“Molly, I’m serious.” His voice roughened, deepened, and became that commanding tone I was oh, so familiar with.
“But you can’t be. You haven’t seen any of my work. You don’t even know if I’m any good or not.”
“The portrait at Killian’s was incredible. You perfectly captured them. It wasn’t just in the colors and images, but the feel of the painting. If it had been anywhere else, it would have captured my attention without trying.”
“Uh, thank you.” I swallowed around the fist-sized lump in my throat. “But you’re missing the point—”
“And if Killian is willing to hire you and Vann wants to hire you, I know there is more to your talent than just that one painting.”
“Okay, but what I’m saying is that you have no idea if what I do is right for you.”
He slowed the car to a stop and turned that too-intense gaze to look at me. “You’re wrong. I know exactly what is right for me, Molly.” The light turned green but he didn’t move. “You. You’re right for me.”
I licked dry lips and tried to focus on the conversation and not my wildly beating heart.
He turned back to the road. “Five thousand dollars.”
“Wh-what?”
“Ten.” He countered an argument I hadn’t made.
“Are you kidding?”
“Name your price,” he demanded. “I’ll pay it.”
“Ezra, stop,” I pleaded breathlessly. “You can’t just throw money at me. You’ve only seen one of my paintings and I don’t even know if I can do what you’re asking me to do. I’m not a painter. I’m not an artist. I have a hobby, that’s it. I’ve only taken a handful of classes and I’m way underqualified to make anywhere near that kind of money.”
He seemed to consider my words. His head tipped to the side thoughtfully, but he was like a dog with a bone. There was no getting this man to back off once he’d decided he wanted something. “There’s this wall at Bianca. It’s always felt awkward to me, because of how smooth and uninterrupted it is. We’ve tried to dress it up and decorate it, but nothing has ever fit quite right. I want a mural or whatever you call it. Something emotional. I want every person that leaves my restaurant to remember it.”
My lungs stopped working. Like straight up quit on me. I couldn’t breathe. “That’s a lot to ask of someone who is one step above paint-by-numbers.”