Page 25 of Apparently, I’m A B!tch

Turning back to her, I tried to offer a teasing smile. “You showed yours, I showed mine. Does that make us even?”

She startled and gasped, so out of sorts in a way I’d never seen her. Her hands flew to her face, and she groaned as she hid behind them. “I can’t believe I did that. There you were, trying to be a good teacher, and I splattered paint on you and flashed half the class.”

I laughed. “Don’t worry, they won’t remember that next week. If anything, you’ve given me a good story to tell Lilly.”

She dropped her hands and searched my face, those pink spots on her cheeks deepening. “I seem to be good at doing that. I bet Jake and Kelly have a ton of stories to tell about me. Harvey too.” Her gaze seemed to go far, like she was being dragged in by her thoughts.

Uncle Henry reappeared from behind the row of canvases. “They are all good, but mine is just as good. I think because I am old with bad sight, it means I am a better artist than they are.” Uncle Henry’s declaration came with a self-satisfied nod as he shuffled back to us, and both Nikki and I burst out laughing.

He smiled at us. “We should go to the shop and have some coffee. What you think?”

That sounded like a great idea. Maybe some time alone in a comfortable place we both knew would erase some of this awkwardness between Nikki and I. Ah, but… Rochelle.

“Sorry Amo, I can’t today. That sounds like a good plan for next week though.”

He squinted at me, his frown deepening. “Why not, boy? You close the shop on Sundays. What else you have to do?”

I lifted a hand to my neck and rubbed it, unsure of why I didn’t want to talk about Rochelle in front of Nikki. “I have a meeting tonight with a curator, and–”

He grunted. “The one Lilly doesn’t like.”

Nikki’s face tilted to one side as she spoke to Uncle Henry. “Why wouldn’t Lilly like an art curator, Theios?”

The old man looked between Nikki and I as if he just noticed something, then he shrugged. “I don’t know. Why would I know? Lilly is crazy. She is young and crazy and full of balls.”

We both laughed, short bursts that dulled when Nikki looked at me with a question on her lips. I shrugged. “Lilly thinks Rochelle isn’t really interested in my art.”

Nikki’s brows shot up as her lips parted in an “Oh”. “But why wouldn’t she be? She’s a curator and your paintings are beautiful.” She waved her hand at the canvas behind me. “Like this one. It’s gorgeous. All of them are.”

I smirked and leaned close enough to nudge her with my elbow. “That’s not what you said when you first saw my work. If I remember, you said my art was generic.”

Her face flushed as she seemed to shrink, her shoulders tightening close to her body as she wrapped her arms around herself. “I know, I’m sorry. I was such a bitch to you that day.”

I clucked my tongue, instantly annoyed that she would call herself something like that. “Nikki, don’t–”

“Don’t say things like that agapi mou,” Uncle Henry cut in. “You are not a–uh, a bitch.”

She quirked her lips into a sad smile and shrugged before scooping up my stained shirt. “I’ll get this back to you as soon as I can. Thanks for today, Tristan. It was pretty cool. I didn’t know I could do what I did on that canvas.”

I offered her a smile. “Next week, it’ll be easier.”

Her hazel eyes burned into me as she met my gaze and said, “I hope so.”