“Not when the guy is you, and the girl is me, Adam.” My statement erased the sly look from his face in a wholly satisfying way.
He cleared his throat again.
“You sound like you’ve got something in your throat. You might want to take a drink of that coffee,” I suggested, enjoying the tinge of pink that colored his cheeks.
“Yeah, well, I was going to call you because I remembered Dad mentioning that you were interested in the bicentennial mural the town is commissioning.”
I crossed my arms over my chest in a defensive gesture. I couldn't help it. I felt as though I needed all my armor when dealing with Adam.
“It sounds like a great project.” What was he getting at?
He gripped his coffee cup tightly in his hand. “Yeah, well, I don’t know if Dad mentioned that I’m the president of the bicentennial committee.”
“He mentioned it.” I felt like this conversation was akin to pulling teeth. Painful and slow.
“Um, okay, so the thing is we’ve been having a hard time finding an artist. We had a guy out of Pittsburg lined up, but he pulled out at the last minute due to work conflicts. Very unprofessional if you ask me.” Adam frowned in a way that I recognized all too well as him being annoyed.
“Agreed. Very unprofessional.”
Hurry up and get to the point.
“So I don’t know what your plans are for work now that you’re home—”
“I’m not home. I’m here to help Mom sell the house and get settled. That’s it,” I found myself explaining in frustration.
Adam was smirking again as if my reaction tickled him.
Dick.
“Okay, well, while you’re here helping your mom out, I was wondering whether you’d be interested in doing the mural.”
That wasn’t what I expected him to say at all.
“I uh...well, I—” I stuttered and stammered like an idiot.
“It’s a paid gig. Good money too. We’ve been fundraising for this for the past two years. You’d be given a flat commission of 30,000 dollars.”
I almost swallowed my tongue.
“Thirty thousand dollars?” I croaked.
Adam nodded. “It’s a big project. You’d be painting the side of my office building and the entire wall along Minister’s Walk. We expect it to take at least six weeks. You’d have to draft up a sketch, and the committee would need to approve it, of course.”
“Of course,” I rasped.
He started talking quickly, and I could barely take it all in. Something about color schemes and thematic elements.
Huh?
I was stuck on the money. Thirty thousand dollars. I had never made that much money for my artwork before. The publicity it could provide would be a huge boost to my art career. It would be a major feature in my portfolio.
And it would help Mom out in a huge way.
I held up my hand, and he stopped speaking. “Why me?” I wondered whether Mom had spoken to Marion and Tom about her situation. Even though she was prideful, there wasn’t much she kept from her best friend. Had she talked to them about my struggles with my artwork?
Was this fucking charity?
I felt myself stiffen at the thought. I would not have Adam Ducate feeling sorry for me.
“Chill out, Meg. You’re an amazing artist. The best I’ve ever seen—”
“You’re an art connoisseur now?” I snapped, feeling testy.
Adam laughed. “Not by a country mile, but I know talent when I see it. I have a very discerning eye, and you’re the perfect artist for this project. Not only because your work speaks for itself, but because you’re from here. You know the town. It’s history. You’ll have an emotional investment that some random artist won’t have.”
I tried not to let on at how excited I was at the prospect. Not only because of the money but to have the chance to paint on such a large scale was more than I could dream of.
“So what do you think?” Adam’s eyes bore into mine, and I couldn’t look away. He always could pull me in, no matter how hard I resisted. Our breathing was in tandem. The air crackled between us. I licked my dry lips, and I noticed him staring at my mouth.
What the—?
The memory of his soft lips on mine came to my mind unbidden. His sweet face hovering above me. Our prepubescent bodies were so attuned to one another. My stomach flipped and rolled.
And then I thought of those same lips kissing Chelsea, and my guts soured, and I felt like throwing something.