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“It’s not good to meet you, Mr. Asshole Davenport. Or should I say Mr. Butthead Davenport?” she snaps.
Behind her, my assistant draws in a sharp breath.
I wave at her. “It’s okay, Mary.”
“But, but...” she splutters.
Guess she’s never been exposed to temperamental artistes. Trust my wife to change one more thing.
“It’s fine. Lizzie’s my sister-in-law.” I rise to my feet and nod toward my assistant. “You can leave us.”
Mary sniffs, then turns to go.
“Oh, Mary, could you send in some”—I turn to Lizzie— “ice-cream?”
“What?” She blinks.
“Do you prefer cookies?”
“Cookies?” Her eyes light up, then her shoulders slump. “Can’t. Diet. Ballet, and all that.”
“A no-sugar, no-carb, buckwheat, organic, dark chocolate-chip cookie, with very little calories?” I nod in Mary’s direction.
She looks at the girl, then back at me, before sniffing again, then turning and walking out.
“If you’re trying to weasel your way into my good books, it won’t work.” She plops herself into her chair. “Also —” She stabs her thumb over her shoulder. “Why are you keeping her on? Don’t you lifestyles of the rich and famous bosses prefer shapely assistants who cater to your every need?” She uses her hands to demonstrate the shape of a curvy woman.
“If you mean Mary, she’s been with the company for thirty years. She came with this office and is only a year from retirement. She’s given her life to this company. Why would I let her go? If anything, I plan to reward her loyalty and ensure she’s set up for the rest of her life, so she can enjoy her retirement with her grandkids.”
Lizzie regards me with a strange look on her face.
“As for your second question, I only have eyes for my wife,” I state.
She scoffs, “Is that why you made her cry?”
I squeeze my fingers around the edge of my desk. My heart threatens to cleave its way out of my ribcage. How could I have done that? How could I have caused her pain? “She... cried?” I ask in a hoarse voice.
“Oh, she didn't say it was because of you; she’s too loyal to you. But when I called her this morning, her eyes were red-rimmed. She said she’s been painting non-stop and not sleeping much in preparation for her exhibition.”
“I’m aware she’s getting her paintings ready for her showing.” I also know she’s been putting in long hours and not taking out the time to eat. Which is why I told my housekeeper to bring Raven’s food to her studio at mealtimes, to ensure she eats.
It’s why I decided to spend my nights at the office, sleeping on my pull-out couch so she won’t be disturbed by my presence. She's going to crush this showing; I have no doubt. “She’s brilliant. And soon the world will recognize that, too.”
Lizzie nods slowly. “She is. And I'm so pleased she’s getting her due.”
“The two of you are close.”
She levels a look at me, a very knowing look. A look which makes her seem older than her eighteen years. A look I recognize, since I’ve seen fellow Marines with that similar look in their eyes after their first tour, when they’ve had to grow up quickly. Both of these girls have been through a lot in their young lives. I tend to forget that my wife faced challenges very early on which granted her more life experience than many of her peers have. It hasn’t made her cynical though, unlike me with my own past.
“Vivian stepped into my mother’s role after she passed.” Lizzie folds her arms together. “She became my de facto parent, especially since my father was busy trying to hold down a job and provide for us. Then, after my father fell ill, Vivian stepped into the role of breadwinner, as well. She’s a brilliant painter and loves poetry, as I assume you already know.”
I nod.
“She’s so talented”—Lizzie’s features soften—“I was sure she’d be a well-known painter by now. She even got admission to the Royal Academy of Arts but decided not to join.”
Again, I’m aware, thanks to my friend, the private detective. But nothing like hearing about her past from someone close to her.
“I was gutted. I begged her to reconsider, but she was firm. The money my mother had left us would cover a year of education for only one of us, and she was determined I would benefit from it. She said I had to learn ballet while I was young enough to pursue it, while she could paint at any time in her life.” Lizzie laughs. “My sister can be persuasive. It was an argument I couldn’t turn down.”
