My jaw drops, and both women laugh.
“Do you think I need to change out all of the art in my house twice a year?” she continues. “I may be rich, but I’m not foolish. There’s a race car driver in town that I’ve heard is delicious.”
“He’s taken, too,” Sarah says helpfully. “By my best friend.”
“Well, shit. If you hear of anyoneonthe market, be sure to let me know.” She winks at Sarah and then turns to me. “Bill me for the art and for the install.”
“I will,” I assure her, and slide my hands in my pockets as she walks out of the gallery. “I’m in big trouble, aren’t I?”
“When was Hawaii?” Sarah asks.
“Two years ago.”
“When was the last time you fucked her?”
I hear Wayne choke on a laugh, but I ignore him.
“Two years ago.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that she would practically make out with you when she walked through the door so I was prepared and didn’t have to physically restrain myself from knocking her ass through a wall?”
I swallow my own laugh now.
“Well, she doesn’t always do that.”
“Right,” Wayne says. “She flirts mercilessly. But since you came back to town, Sarah, Tanner doesn’t pay her any attention. Hell, he hasn’t encouraged her in a long ass time.”
“She was a distraction for a little while.” My voice is low so only Sarah can hear. “And who knew that she didn’t really want to buy all new artwork every few months?”
“Uh, a blind man could have seen that,” Sarah replies and pats my cheek. “You’re oblivious. And that’s the reason why you’re not in deep trouble. So, how much are we charging her for all of this?”
“No less than three thousand each.”
Sarah goggles at me. “What? Three thousandeach?”
“Should be more,” Wayne calls out.
“You’re a new artist, still unknown. We’ll start there and increase as word gets out. Clem is getting a hell of a bargain.”
“Holy shit,” Sarah whispers. “That’s a lot of money.”
“Congratulations,” Wayne says as he approaches us with champagne and flutes. “You need to celebrate your first ever sale.”
“I’m proud of you,” I tell her and take a sip of the bubbly.
“I’m kind of proud of me, too,” she says and sips her own glass. “I have so much work to do.”
“It’s a drug, isn’t it?” Wayne asks. “There can’t be anything else like it.”
“I think I’ll be painting full time by the end of the year,” Sarah replies. “As long as they keep selling, that is.”
A customer walks through the door and makes a slow circle through the gallery. When he sees the collection of easels set up behind us, and the artwork on them, his eyebrows pinch together.
“Are these available?”
I grin down at Sarah, whose mouth just dropped wide open, and turn to the man.
“These have been purchased, but this is the artist, and I believe she has more work to come.”