Page 148 of Losing Faith

I see her sit up in her seat beside me.

“Really?”

“You have to hold actual interviews and findgoodpeople so you don’t have to keep rehiring every three months.”

“Deal!”

“But—”

“No, I already said deal.”

“We’re negotiating.” I turn to her at the red light. “You need to have enough paintings and other merchandise to fully stock the store for two months and you have to get the money for that on your own. When you get all that, I’ll loan you the rest and you can have your grand opening.”

She looks like she’s thinking. “So we’ll basically be going half and half?”

“Sure.” I let her believe that. “Everything will be in your name, though, unless you don’t qualify for some reason, then you’ll need a cosigner. I might not be able to since I just got my house and already own two other properties, but your brothers only own one and Sage doesn’t have a house, right?”

She nods in response. “With the ten grand I’m paying you to do the logistics, I’m technically giving you the money you’re loaning me to open the place.”

“Sure.” I also let her believe this is only going to cost that much.

“Deal.”

We shake on it and another smile is on her face.

“This is the best deal ever. I’m basically paying nothing.”

“Okay.” I don’t know what kind of math she’s using, but she’s happy and that’s all that matters in life.

Chapter Forty-Three

Lisette

Aswarmofbutterfliestakeoff in my lower stomach as Jackson wraps his arm around my waist, holding me close as we enter the charity event.

The hall is flooded with men in expensive looking suits. Women in even more expensive looking dresses at their sides. There’s a hushed piano being played in the center of the hall, but when I notice the art on the wall, I quickly turn to Jackson.

“The charity event is anartexhibit?”

“Yeah?” Jackson turns to me now. “I didn’t mention that?”

“No,you didn’t mention.”

A smile touches his lips. “That’s why I wanted you to come. Everything that’s sold today is going to the All-American Sluggers. They have little league baseball teams in every state across the country and—”

“Sorry, I don’t really care about the team,” I whisper. “Who’s the artist?” I walk over to a piece that first caught my attention and he follows close behind, stifling a laugh.

“Nice to see you care about my interest the same way I care about yours,” he mumbles and I turn back to him, giving him a knowing look.

“You know I care about your interests, baby. Don’t pull that, I listened to you talk about how baseball trades work for twenty minutes before you ranted about stocks. We both know you’re not interested in alittle league team.” A smile grows so big on his face, pulling my brows together. “What?”

He simply shakes his head. “Nothing.” He nods to the painting behind me. “The artist is Alexander Sinn.”

My brows shoot up as I turn back to the wall and just as he said, Sinn’s signature is in the corner of his painting. “Damn.” I nod in thought.

“Do you know him?”

“Are you kidding?” I let out a scoff. “Of course, I know him. Do you know how much controversy he is stirring in the art community right now?”

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