said. “That is just so wrong.”
She sighed. “Yeah, well. Maybe. But that’s what the guy said, and everyone listened to him. My friends were so embarrassed for me. It was pretty agonizing. So, that was that. So much for the art career. I went back to painting for myself, just to stay sane.”
“But you’re not an amateur,” he said.
“I don’t mind being called an amateur,” she said. “It just means, quite literally, that it’s something that I do for love. And I definitely qualify.”
“Not anymore,” he said on impulse.
“No?” She looked perplexed. “How do you figure that?”
“What happened to you over the last few months burned the love out of it,” he said. “What I saw in your apartment didn’t look like love. It looked like necessity. Truth.” He thought about it. “Hell, maybe it’s the same thing. Fucked if I know.”
She looked puzzled, but pleased. “Damn,” she said. “I’m not sure what you mean, but I like the way it sounds. You have a future as an art critic, Nate.”
“Nah, I’m not the type to bloviate about art like that dickhead at your show. But I know bullshit when I see it. And fluff, too. Your stuff is neither of those things. You have a voice. And raw power, to burn. If this guy couldn’t see it, then he was a fucking bonehead idiot.”
She let her hair fall forward over her reddening face. “Thanks,” she said.
“No problem.”
“Nate,” she said tentatively. “Does it bother you that I’m Terry Roarke’s daughter?”
Nate thought about it for a moment. “No,” he said. “I don’t judge people according to how much money they have or don’t have. Or used to have. I don’t come from money myself, but I have plenty now. Not like the Trask guys, because those dudes are huge overachievers, but enough for my purposes. It’s real simple. I’ve lived with money, and I’ve lived without it. With it is better.”
“Agreed,” she said. “If the money is your own.”
He grinned. “Goes without saying. I used to daydream of getting super rich when I was a kid. My plan was to sweep my mom away to a life of luxury and ease.”
“What about your dad? Didn’t he get to be swept away, too?”
“Not him,” he said. “He was a mean, violent drunk. I didn’t mourn him when he rolled his truck and died. By the time I was ten years old, I’d already decided that he could fuck off and die. And then, finally, he did. It was a relief.”
She was startled into silence for a moment. “I’m…so sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “The only thing I regret was not getting the opportunity to take care of my mom properly. I didn’t have time. She tried to leave him, more than once, but she couldn’t make it stick. He convinced her that she couldn’t make it without him, and died before she figured out that he was full of shit. Of emphysema. My dad killed himself in a car accident not long after that.”
She patted his hand gently. “I lost my mom, too,” she said. “When I was thirteen. She hit her head in a ski accident. How old were you when you lost yours?”
“Seventeen,” he said. “Shortly before I joined the Marines.”
She sipped her water, staring down at the highly polished soup bowl in the silence that followed. “So is your mom the reason you’re so intense about me?”
He frowned. “Excuse me?”
“You say wanted to save her from your violent dad. Sweep her away, those were your words. No parallels there? Not that I’m judging you. You like to rescue the damsel in distress. And thank God for it. I’m lucky.”
“No,” he said without hesitation. “The world is full of assholes, and I like to thump them when I can, but you’re no damsel in distress. You’re a badass bitch, trying to save your little brother. You’re holding onto a demon by the tail. There’s no shame in needing a little extra help with a demon. It’s amazing that you’ve made it this far in one piece. I am in awe of your strength and focus.”
She laughed. “Aww!” she said. “And here you go again with the sweet talk.”
“Hey, it’s kind of our first date, right? Just trying to be charming.”
“I appreciate it,” Elisa said. “I really do, but I still don’t understand why. Because none of this crap is your problem. Unless you turn it into your problem.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “What’s it going to take