Page 90 of Faking All the Way
“Thanks.” I’m still having trouble making it feel real. “This could really help establish me in the industry.”
Inside Spilled Ink, the bell chimes as we enter. The owner, Marjorie Gladwell, looks up from organizing a display, her face breaking into a warm smile.
“Kat! Good to see you!” She comes around the counter for a quick hug. She’s been running this store since I was a kid. “I heard you were back in town for the holidays.”
“I am. And actually…” I take a breath. “I just got a book contract. A series for Jones & Valen.”
Her face lights up. “Katherine Sanders, that’s wonderful! Congratulations!”
We move through the store, Marjorie pointing out items and making suggestions based on the project description I give her. When we get to the brush section, I stop in front of a set I’ve been coveting for years, gazing at them longingly.
“God, they’re gorgeous,” I murmur, reaching out to pick up a set of Kolinsky sable brushes with beautiful wooden handles.
The craftsmanship is incredible, each brush perfectly balanced. I run my fingers over the smooth wood, testing the weight in my hand. The bristles are a dream, the kind that hold their shape perfectly and have just the right amount of spring. I’ve been drooling over brushes like these since I first started taking my art seriously, reading reviews online and watching YouTube videos of professional illustrators using them.
The price tag makes me wince though. Two hundred dollars for a set of six brushes. “I’ve always wanted to try them, but they’re so expensive.”
I turn them over in my hand one more time, admiring the way the light catches on the polished wood, then set them back down reluctantly. As much as I’d love to have them, I don’t really need them for this project. The mid-range brushes I picked out will work just fine.
But before I can step away and move on to looking at paper options, Asher picks up the brush set and adds it to his own basket.
“Asher, no.” I reach for them, trying to take them back out. “You don’t have to do that. I was just looking.”
“Are you kidding?” He holds the basket away from me with a grin that makes my stomach flip. “I’m about to buy out this entire store.”
I laugh at the exaggeration, but there’s something in his tone that makes it seem like he’s actually serious. Like he really would buy out the whole store if he thought it would help me succeed with this project.
“You’re ridiculous,” I tell him, but I’m smiling.
“Maybe. But you’re stuck with me.”
The words hang in the air for a second, and I have to remind myself not to read too much into them. He means for the holidays, that’s all.
We finish gathering the new art supplies, and when we go to check out, Asher plucks my basket from my hands, telling Marjorie to ring it all up together. She smirks, her gaze darting back and forth between us with hearts in her eyes as she does it. The total makes my eyes widen, but Asher doesn’t even blink, just slides his card across the counter.
“You’re all set, honey,” Marjorie says as she bags everything carefully. “Come back and tell me how the project goes. I want to see the finished books when they come out.”
“I will. Thank you so much.”
We carry the bags out to the car and head back toward the cabin. I’m giddy the whole way, unable to sit still. My mind is awash with ideas, potential designs options taking shape, color palettes forming. I can’t wait to start collaborating with the author, to read the book and let my imagination run wild.
“You’re bouncing,” Asher says, glancing over at me with amusement.
“I know. I can’t help it! I’m just so excited. This is everything I’ve been working toward.”
“You’re going to do amazing work. I know it.”
The certainty in his voice makes me swallow hard.
When we arrive back at the cabin, he helps me get everything inside, watching as I unpack my new supplies, arranging the inks by color family the way I always do. Reds and oranges together, blues and greens, the earth tones in their own section. I’m testing out one of the new brushes, feeling how it holds water, when I become aware of him still hovering behind me. Not saying anything, just watching over my shoulder as I work.
“Asher,” I say, glancing back at him with a teasing smile.
He bites his lip, ducking his head a little. “Sorry. I just like watching you work. The way you organize everything, how focused you get. It’s interesting.”
“Well, I can’t concentrate with you looming over me like that.”
He chuckles. “Fair enough. I’ll let you work in peace then.” But instead of leaving, he steps closer, bending down to nuzzle his face into my neck. His breath is warm against my skin, making me shiver. “Can I come back over and distract you later tonight?”
