Oh, honey. I would love to have your man, but we agreed to be friends and he’s right that I respect your relationship.
Even if I do think he deserves someone better than you.
Yeah. I’d keep all that to myself, just like I’d been doing since he’d started dating her four years ago.
And for the record, I wasn’t the only one who didn’t think all that highly of her. Cass and Katie were both pros at giving her that super bright smile to her face before shooting daggers out their eyes at her back. It was kind of catty, but they both liked Armin, and we all got tired of her snide comments about him, so I mean—could you blame them? Even Omar would—when Armin and Tanya were out of earshot—sigh and mutter something that I was pretty sure translated to, “Son, why are you so stupid with women?”
But Armin was happy with her, so we all tried to be happy for him and just quietly hoped he saw the light on his own. Because he really did deserve better. And she probably did too—she could be a perfectly nice person sometimes, so maybe the two of them were just that terrible for each other.
Whatever. We were stuck driving together, and hopefully that wouldn’t be a disaster for them.
“…maybe three days each way?” Armin’s voice was coming closer. “Kind of depends on traffic, the weather, all of that. And how long it takes us to pack up the pieces.”
“All right,” Omar said. “Marques has a company Visa. Make sure you save all the receipts.”
“Will do.”
They both appeared in the breakroom.
“Oh! Marques.” Omar gestured at me. “Armin and I were just going over the trip logistics.”
“So I heard.” I sipped my coffee. “You think three days each way is enough?”
“Theoretically, we could make it in two.” Armin grimaced. “But especially on the way back with that kind of valuable cargo, I’d rather take our time.”
I nodded. “Good idea. Where exactly in Maine is she?”
“Calais.” Omar laughed dryly. “It’s about as far east as you can get. Right on the Canadian border.”
I whistled. “Okay, yeah, at least three days, then. I’ve made it to Boston in two, and those were pretty long days. Driving that far and then all the way across Maine? It’s going to take some time.”
“As long as you’re back in time for the show.” Omar looked pointedly at me. “That gives you two weeks, and the sooner you’re back, the better, so you can help us set up.”
“We’ll do the best we can.” I looked at Armin. “Your car or mine?”
“Actually,” Omar cut in, “I’m going to have you rent something. I don’t think you’ll need a van, but a big SUV like a Suburban should be enough.”
“To carry the art?” Armin asked.
“Exactly.”
“Okay.” I shrugged. “I’ll make the reservation while I’m reserving hotels. We can take an Uber to the airport in Norfolk and pick it up there.”
“I’ll let the two of you work out the details. Whatever you need.” He paused, then shot his son a pointed look. “Within reason. You’re not having dinner at Ruth’s Chris every night.”
Armin’s expression turned adorably innocent. “Okay, not every night, but—”
Omar sighed.
Armin chuckled. “Okay, okay. We won’t. I promise.” He turned a devilish grin on me and winked, oblivious to what that did to my ability to stand up.
I casually leaned against the breakroom counter. “We won’t go too crazy, boss. Promise.”
“Good.” Omar nodded sharply. Then his expression brightened, and he smiled like an excited little kid. “This is going to be amazing! Zoe Neelan’s work in our gallery.”
Armin smiled. So did I. And having Zoe’s work in here would be spectacular. I’d admired her work since forever. She was a legend, and I’d spent countless hours studying everything she did as I’d honed my own artistic techniques. Getting to see some of her work in person? Being in a position to gush about it to a potential buyer? Meeting Zoe Neelan in the flesh? Wow. Just wow. This was a dream come true in so many ways.
A week or so away from my ex? A pilgrimage to the studio of an amazing artist? Spending several days with my friend?
All of that was almost enough to make me forget that Armin’s girlfriend had a problem with me.
Almost.
Chapter 3
Armin
“I know it’s totally a racket to encourage us to buy cars,” I said, sliding into the driver’s seat of our shiny black Chevy Trailblazer, “but you gotta love the fact that they always give us brand new rides with all the bells and whistles.”
Marques laughed as he buckled his seat belt. “And you got the full coverage, right? So we can bring it back all fucked-up without getting charged?”
“I did, but we still better bring it back in pristine condition.” I grimaced. “Dad finds out we got so much as a ding from a rock and he’ll have heart failure.”
“What? Since when is he so—oh. Right. Precious cargo.”
I chuckled. “Exactly. I wonder if I should ask my brother if my dad has ever been this obsessive about him and my sister-in-law driving my niece around.”
Marques made a face. “You really want to start that?”
“Hey, Christmas dinner gets boring sometimes now that my mom has banned politics from the table.” I shrugged and started the engine. “Gotta get the sparks flying somehow.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “You know, sometimes it’s hard to believe that I thought your mom was lying when she told me you were the troublemaker of the family.”
“Pfft. Please.” I pulled out of the parking space and headed for the garage’s exit. “I’m a troublemaker in the family. I’m not the troublemaker.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
I just laughed. The jury was still out on which of the three of us had given our mother the most gray hair, but we’d all been pains in the ass in our own ways. That hadn’t changed much now that we were adults, though my sisters-in-law kept my brothers in line. Sometimes. My parents were still holding out on someone to keep me in line.
That thought brought my humor down a few notches as I pulled out of the garage and into the whipping wind and driving rain. My mom had started dropping hints over the past year that Tanya and I had been dating for a while. We were living together. Wasn’t it time to think about…?
Ugh. Fuck me. I hadn’t proposed on Tanya’s birthday, and now Christmas was starting to close in. Once the stores dropped the Halloween décor and started putting up red and green, my mom’s side-eyes would start getting less subtle. Was she the one who’d put me on the mailing list for a couple of local jewelry stores? Or had that been Tanya? Whatever the case, I got an email blast any time someone was having a big sale on diamonds, solitaires, bridal sets…
I bit back a groan. I wouldn’t be proposing on Christmas. If Tanya and I did end up getting married, it wouldn’t be until after we’d figured out—and fixed—whatever was causing so much tension between us. And with the way my mind kept brushing up against a very different (and permanent) solution to our problems…