I can file an appeal, draw up a contract, and argue the merits of a case without blinking an eye, but I’d forgotten how soul-crushingly terrifying it can be to share my art. How personal it is, like revealing a little piece of my soul.
“Hope,” he finally murmurs, eyes widening. “You painted the rainstorm you picture when you think of hope.”
“That’s right.” Edging closer until we’re side by side, I peer over his shoulder at my creation—at the moody cerulean and indigo clouds, the abstract gray-pink raindrops giving way to a hazy golden sunrise.
“Cass, this is beautiful. I… I can’t keep this.”
He tries to give the painting back to me, but I push it toward him. My fingers brush his, and the sensation burrows into my blood.
“You were the one who encouraged me to take the leap and start painting again. I’d forgotten how much I love it. How it makes me feel… alive. I painted this the night I found your easel on my porch. I want you to have it.”
“Thank—” His voice cracks. “Thank you.”
His clear emerald eyes meet mine, and my calves tense. We’re close—only a foot of space between us. At this distance, Perry’s woodsy scent dances across my senses and my head feels curiously light. Like I’m standing on the pinnacle of a mountain or poised to deliver the closing argument to a jury, heart pounding with anticipation.
Chin quavering, I step back and swing my bag onto my back. “You’re welcome. I would have thanked you sooner, but I don’t have your number.”
“Let’s remedy that.” Tucking the painting under his arm, he takes out his cell and taps the screen several times. From inside my bag, my phone beeps. “I just AirDropped you my contact info. Feel free to call me anytime. I mean, if you ever need anything, or whatever.” Scratching his nose, he looks away. “I bet Devin’s missing you. Don’t you think you should head back?”
I wave him away. “He’s fine. He’s with his high school friends,” I say.
“Ahhh, you met ‘the crew’？”
“If you mean the ‘one-up club,’ then yes.” I immediately wince. “That wasn’t fair. They were actually pretty nice.” For the most part.
“Don’t judge Devin too harshly,” he says. “I know he doesn’t act like it, but Dad’s criticism gets to him. And sometimes he overcompensates by trying to prove how great and successful he is, you know? But it doesn’t come from a bad place, believe me.”
“Why don’t you come back to the party with me? I know he wants to talk to you.”
Perry’s expression darkens. “I’m sure he does.”
“You can’t solve your problems if you don’t talk them out.” I tap Perry’s chest to punctuate my point.
“There’s no problem, not really. I mean, I’m not thrilled he’s been telling my dad about the state of Blooms & Baubles, but I’m not surprised. It’s all part of a longer-term disagreement we have.”
“About what?”
“Devin thinks I should liquidate and close down the business.”
I furrow my brows. “Why is he helping you with the books then?”
“On the off-chance I might decide to sell it someday instead. Nobody wants to buy a business that’s struggling. Strong finances mean a better sale.”
“But you don’t want to quit the business, do you?”
“No, but I might not have much of a choice. Mom struggled for years before I even took over. It turns out she owed a bundle in back property taxes. I’ve been working on paying it off, but the fact is, we’re in debt.”
“What about your dad? Couldn’t you take him up on his offer to help?”
Perry lets out a derisive laugh. “He doesn’t want to help. He offered to buy Blooms & Baubles—the business, the property, everything—to take it off my hands so I can do something ‘worthwhile’ with my life,” he says, complete with the air quotes.
“Screw him. What you do is worthwhile. I’m sorry he doesn’t see that.”
Perry lifts and lowers one shoulder. “Truth be told, it’s not really about me. A lot of his feelings about the shop are wrapped up in his feelings about my mom. B&B was her life. When we were little, he begged her to sell the shop so they could move out to the suburbs and start his development company, and Mom refused. She said she wouldn’t give up what made her happy. Even though they’ve been divorced for nearly twenty years, I think he still resents that she chose the shop over him. And now he resents me for keeping it going… and that I love it as much as she did.”