Page 57 of Painting Her Fate

My little brother might’ve been diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome, but this kid is smart as a whip, can create unimaginable digital arts, kick my ass in Mario Kart, or hell, just about every video game for that fact, and has shown me that the world has a whole different perspective. I fear with him leaving for college in the fall, we could lose the progress we’ve made.

What if he moves away and doesn’t want to call or text me? What if he has a nervous breakdown a thousand miles away; sure, I can be there in a few hours on a direct flight, but he’s not going to have family with him in Florida like he does now.

Standing in the center of the living room, Blake has this on-edge nervous vibe to him- he’s thinking hard about something.

“Dude, Lili is out of your league.” He blurts and looks over his shoulder to see if anyone was there to overhear us.

Dumbfounded, I ask, “Why do you say that? We are just friends.”

He licks his lips and shakes his head frantically, “Gavin’s right, as much as you will not admit it, you’re not,just friendsbig bro.” He pulls his phone out, “have you looked her up at all?”

Kids and their desire to get a CliffsNotes version of a subject, rather than the full story. It’s all too common now to look someone up on social media than it is to be face to face with said person and get to know them that way. He shifts on his feet and rubs his thumb, pointer, and middle finger together in his nervous movement, almost like snapping, but without the popping noise.

My brows draw together as I keep my cool; if he sees I’m calm, he won’t become further agitated. “No, I have no need to.”

Who cares how many friends they have on social media and all that other bullshit? Blake is a teen; he lives on that crap. I didn’t have that growing up, I’ll stick to theancientway, as he calls it.

“Well, you’re going to want to check this out.” He made a few swipes of his screen, brought up an article, and held it out for me to read, “She is a successful artist in the UK; people around the world are wanting her work. She is worth over seven million pounds, or roughly eight million US, and growing in value.” He pauses, looking from the phone to me, silently asking me to take it. I do and begin skimming through the article, “that’s why I say, she is way out of your league. She dines with high class lawyers. She creates things for the famous- like, I wouldn’t be surprised to find out the first lady has a painting of Lili’s- she’s that good.” I glance up from the screen and see the hurt in his eyes. He doesn’t want to see me sad, but he was raised to be truthful, and speak his mind, “sorry to say, but you are a nobody to this girl.” And do not forget blunt.

Right. I’m just a bar owner with a fucked-up past. Could Blake be right about all this?

I think back to her painting on the easel. I knew she was talented, but

for her to bethatgifted? Maybe he’s right, I should allow her to find someone she can relate to better than myself. Hell, I can’t even draw fuckin’ stick figures properly. She probably has a following of guys back in London that she’d rather be with than me. A lawyer or two, maybe a tech mogul to fund her foundation. The thought pisses me off. What if I’m just a fling to add to her black book?

I shake my head to myself. She doesn’t seem the type. She’s too closed off and secretive. At least around me anyway.

Blake lowers his voice as I hand him back his phone, “there is one thing I find odd about this article, and frankly, anything I’ve searched about her.” He whispers, becoming serious, “there is nothing searchable about her past, not so much as a younger picture on her social media page or how she grew up. Her artist bio is also vague, only mentioning her Gran as inspiration. Nothing.” I let that sink in and ask myself if it would be wise for me to contact my Marine buddy Shark, or should I give her time and see if she would talk to me about it. Then I remember what she said before we left her place this morning.

“You’re taking French, right? Or took French?” I ask and Blake nods, “do you know what, ‘g-purr’ means?” I hope I can relay the translation enough for him to understand.

“J’ai peur?”He corrects, damn near as perfectly as Lili had.

“Yeah, that’s it. What is it?” I watch as Blake’s eyes widen.

“Hey guys, thanks for helping with the rest of the food.” Gavin retorts, interrupting our private conversation, “don’t you worry your pretty little heads though, Wyatt and I got it. Wouldn’t wanna have you break a nail or something.” He taunts with a bit of mock anger that signals he’s been spending too much time with Ford.

His hipster clad figure fills the archway, and he stretched an arm above his head against the casing. At twenty-three, he is a few inches shorter than my six foot three, he has mom’s bright blue eyes hidden behind the dark aviator sunglasses he’s sporting. I’d like to shave that monstrosity of a beard off; he looks ridiculous with it. He says that’s how he picks up girls, that they love the beard-look, and told me I should try it. So instead, I embarrass the shit out of him by making him wear a beard net when he works in the kitchen; win-win.

What’s a brother to do, right?

“Sorry about that, Blake was just showing me a new flyer he made for the bar.” I give Blake a look to not say anything. Speaking of, I need to ask him about the Cinco de Mayo flyers, that holiday will be here before you know it. Blake shoves his phone back in his jeans pocket along with his hands.

“O-k, but you could’ve done thataftereverything was taken care of.” I can tell he rolled his eyes, then his mood shifts. “I think I earned myself an ice cream sandwich. Maybe I will askLiliis she wants one.” He tries egging me on and I’m stupid enough to take his bait.

I clench my fists, my jaw set tight, “don’t even think about it, dick.”

I’m not playing around with him anymore. This mega player is not adding Lili to his list of fucks. Then I remember how she laughed at Ford’s pathetic attempt at using his‘Southern charm’on her. Gavin in his own way is Ford’s squire; he’s following in my gunner’s footsteps in the dating department.

Relaxing, I give Gavin a bemused look knowing Lili would never fall for his foolishness.

I give a knowing lift of my chin, “then again, by all means, try it.”

“I’ll finish cleaning whatever is left.” Blake chimes in, still a bit nervous, leaving the room abruptly and wanting no part in this bickering match. Brotherly love at its finest.

Gavin waggles his brow, taking my challenge and raising it, “maybe I will. I do enjoy blondes.” But I know he won’t touch her. He has tried getting me with so many women once I bought the bar, this is the first interest I’ve had in years. No way would he fuck this up for me. He pulled his phone out and checked the time, his face sobering, “don’t you have to get going? It’s about four thirty. Honestly, I’m surprised you stayed this long, usually you have to get back right after we eat.”

He sets his thumbs through his belt loops. Gavin switched nights with a kitchen worker, so he is coming in at six, beard net and all.

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