Highest Bidder Collection - Lauren Landish Page 0,325

stand just outside the door.

When I walk into the room, the breath catches in my throat.

“Ohhh,” I say softly, butterflies in my stomach.

Zander’s set up a chair and easel on the dais with the piano, pointing it toward the floor-to-ceiling windows so I could paint with the breathtaking backdrop in front of me. He even went to the trouble to have the painting supplies set out and ready. All I have to do is sit down and start painting.

This is so sweet of him. So unexpected.

Tears pricking my eyes, I walk up the dais and set the frame upright on the piano. I take a seat at the easel and look at the brushes. When I choose the right one, I dip it into a deep earth tone shade of brown and begin painting.

Over the next several hours, I lose all sense of time as I work on the painting, frequently casting glances at the picture frame, trying to get every detail and nuance right. I don’t take any breaks and I get so lost in my art, not even getting up to go to the bathroom. And by the time I’m close to done, my back is aching and my right hand feels nearly numb.

“Almost there,” I whisper, setting a brush down into a small cup of water on the stand next to me. There's a bit of paint on Zander's shirt I'm wearing, but I’m sure he won’t mind. I fucking hope not. “It’s missing something,” I murmur, staring hard at the painting, a replica of Zander’s mother, Marie.

I stare at it long and hard, trying to figure out what it is. Finally, I snap my fingers.

Her smile. A feeling of joy sweeps through me, a rush of euphoria I always get when I’m close to finishing a work of art. It’s not quite right. There’s life to the smile I see in the photo. A tenderness that shows her love for Zander. And it’s missing from this canvas.

“Once I get that done,” I say happily, loving how it all looks, “it’ll be perfect.”

And I hope Zander will love it.

I’m about to pick up a paintbrush and apply the finishing touches, when I hear a faint ringing sound. I pause, frowning, straining my ears. I can’t tell exactly where the sound is coming from, but it sounds like it’s in the other room.

I pick the paintbrush back up, but now that I’ve heard the sound, I can’t unhear it. I’ve got to know what it is. Sighing, I place the paintbrush down and walk into the adjoining room, one of Zander’s studies.

Ding. Ding. Ding.

It’s my cell, laying on his desk.

When I see the messages on the screen, my heart leaps up my throat.

It’s Natalie. Fuck!

I’ve been so worried about Danny that I forgot to call her.

That’s not true, says the annoying voice at the back of my head. You were too wrapped up with your lover Zander to care.

I’m really starting to hate that fucking voice right now, especially because it reminds me how much of a shitty friend I've been.

Sucking in a deep breath, I pick up the phone, reading through some of the messages.

Nattybatty95: Hey Ari! I got some crazy shit to tell you! I can’t wait to get home to talk to you about it :P

Nattybatty95: Where you at, chica?

Nattybatty95: Is something wrong? :(

Nattybatty95: Why aren’t you home yet?

Nattybatty95: WTF

Nattybatty95: I’m filing a missing persons report if I don’t hear from you within the next day

The last message sends me into a panic and my fingers are flying across the keys before I even have time to process.

Artistchick96: Hey nat! Don’t go filing a police report!!! I’m totally fine! Don’t worry. I just took a mini vacation that’s all

My cell chimes with an immediate ding.

Nattybatty95: Ari! Thank God you’re alright! I was just about to file that report on you

Thank fuck she didn’t. Jesus.

Artistchick96: No need! I’m okay.

Nattybatty95: Holy shit, you scared me to death! I thought you’d been kidnapped or something

My fingers fly across the touch screen.

Artistchick96: Nope. You’re still stuck with me.

Nattybatty95: Wait, where are you? And where the hell have you been!?

I pause before responding, biting my lower lip while I think. I feel awful about the worry and panic I’ve caused Natalie. And I can’t believe I haven’t thought to send her a message while I’ve been staying over here with Zander. But deep down, I know a part of me didn’t want to contact Natalie because... I knew she’d be