She blinked. “I don’t know if you’re kidding or not.”
Hurt filled his face. “Hey, I promised I wouldn’t be a jerk anymore, remember? As long as you don’t treat me like a kid. We’re not doing complicated anymore, sis.”
Holding up her hand, she nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” She frowned, heading into to the living area. “So St. Clair really wanted to buy the drawing? Did he say how much?”
“Not until the woman who was with him offered to buy it for a grand.”
“Woman? What woman?” Her frown deepened, a prickling heat crawling up her spine. “Wait, did you say a thousand dollars?”
He grinned. “Yep. She offered a thousand, so he said he’d buy it for fifteen hundred. Then she said two thousand.”
Two thousand…
“Holy crap.” She dropped into an armchair, her blood pounding in her ears. Two thousand? Thomas St. Clair wanted to pay two thousand dollars for one of her sketches.
“I told them I couldn’t sell them anything until I spoke to you.” Zach perched on the arm of the sofa. “But hinted there was already a potential buyer interested and they had offered to pay five hundred more.”
Sienna gaped at him. “You what?”
“So St. Clair said he’d pay two thousand six hundred and dedicate his next book to you.”
“Oh my God.”
“And then the woman said she would fuck St. Clair if he gave her the drawing. He said no deal. He wanted to keep it for himself.” Zach’s grin stretched wider. “I think I like this idea of being your manager.”
A dry laugh burst from her. “My what?”
He blew on his nails and rubbed them on his chest. “Manager. You create, I sell. For eight percent commission, of course.”
“Oh, of course.” She rolled her eyes and slumped back in the armchair. Holy hell, what was going on? Had she woken up in her greatest fantasy? Amazing sex with James Dyson, famous people wanting to own her work, a brother who enjoyed being her brother… How had this happened?
“Anyways.” Zach pushed himself from the sofa. “Thomas St. Clair is going to come around tomorrow afternoon to talk to you about the drawing.” He stopped in front of her with a melodramatic haughty look. “So it’s bedtime for you, young lady. I don’t want you tired and grumpy and scaring them off.”
Head spinning, she frowned up at him. “Them?”
“Yeah, the woman, Lindsey something-or-other, is coming with him.”
An icy chill crawled up the back of her neck and over her scalp. “Lindsey something-or-other?”
Zach nodded, hooking his fingers under her arm as he pulled her up from the chair. “Hot chick, blond hair. Big—” He stopped and shrugged. “Sorry. Old habits. If the diamonds around her neck and in her ears are anything to go by, she’s rich. Real rich. Haven’t seen bling like that since Mum was alive.”
The throwaway comment pulled at Sienna’s stunned confusion. Shoving aside the fact James’s sister had been in her home with Thomas St. Clair, she gave Zach a long stare. Fifteen years of surreal chaos had done a number on him. No stability or normalcy. She wanted to help him find himself, who he was without their father’s money and infamy. Was letting James Dyson and everything that came with him into her life a good thing for Zach?
“How do you feel about James coming for breakfast tomorrow? Are you okay with that?”
Zach frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be? To be honest, I didn’t expect you home tonight. I thought you’d spend it at his house.”
Warm butterflies swirled in her stomach. “I’m not going to abandon you over night for a guy, Zach. No matter who that guy is.”
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t get mushy on me, sis.”
She rolled her eyes back at him. “Sorry. So breakfast with him tomorrow is okay?”
With a laugh, Zach dropped into a crouch before her. “Sis, breakfast with James Dyson is cool. Just don’t go sucking face with him in front of me, okay? When you want to do that, I’ll head over to Ricco’s place. Deal?”
“Deal.” Warmth spread over her cheek. “Although I can’t promise anything on the location of our sucking—”