Page 139 of Forgotten Comeback
We arrive in a plush room with attractive people in robes milling about. There’s a table with paints and brushes, but nothing else. “Where are the canvases?” I wonder.
“You’re painting the models,” Inferno tells me.
“Right, on what medium?”
He looks at me like I’m an idiot. “On the model’s medium.”
“Oh.” I blink. “When Effie asked whether I was comfortable with nude models, I didn’t realize she meant I’d be painting them literally.”
“Is this a problem?” he challenges.
“No, I don’t have a problem with it, but I’ll need to talk to Gavin first.” We set clear boundaries for tonight, and I don’t want to inadvertently cross one.
“Why?” he asks in a baffled tone.
“Because he’s my boyfriend, and I care about his feelings?” Like, is this a trick question?
Silence.
The man’s face is still befuddling me, and I blurt out, “Would you consider sitting for a bust portrait at my studio?”
“A bust portrait?” he repeats the words like I’ve offended his honor.
Something about his face unsettles me, and I’d love to explore it on canvas. That feels too blunt to say, so instead, I tellhim, “Yes, a bust portrait. I would give you my studio address, but my guess is you already have it.”
Inferno flashes a look I can’t interpret as he silently walks out.
Gavin
Getting the bar organized, I squat down to check out the ice situation before popping back up. “Christ,” I say, my hand going to my heart. “Don’t be such a creepy fuck,” I tell my lurker of a brother.
“Your girlfriend needs to talk to you.”
“What’s wrong?” I ask, tossing my towel and hopping over the bar.
“You’re her boyfriend, and she cares about your feelings.” Inferno crosses his arms. “Her words, not fucking mine.”
Well, damn, if that doesn’t make me all warm and tingly.
“She also told me I was giving off threatening ‘vibes,’ and then in the same breath, wanted to paint my portrait. Is your girlfriend crazy, by chance?”
I grab Inferno by his tie, yanking his masked face inches from mine. “Call her crazy again, and I’ll remind you how fucking crazy I can be.”
“My apologies,” he says, and I release him with a little shove.
“Where is she?”
“This way.” He could’ve told me, but I get the feeling he wants to say something else, so I walk with him. “You talk to John lately?” Inferno tries to play it cool.
And there it is.
“Yeah. You?” I counter.
“No.”
“Look, I don’t know what the beef is between you two, but I’m keeping my head down and focusing on my shit for a change.”
“You’re happy.” It’s not a question, but a statement.
