Burn(137)
Shaking her head, she finished off her coffee and set the mug on the coffee table. She needed to get back to work, perhaps draw a companion piece for the Rain in Manhattan painting. She could then take both to Mr. Downing and see if he thought they’d sell better than her previous offerings. If not? Plan B. Whatever that was.
She eyed her cell phone, which she’d put on silent, debated whether she should check for calls or messages. Then she sighed. No one would be calling her. Except maybe Ash, and she didn’t want to think about him right now. Resisting the temptation to look at her messages—if there were any—she went back to work, driven to complete another piece.
Her paintings usually took days. She tweaked endlessly, frowning over every little detail. But today she put paint to canvas and didn’t stop until it was done. So what if it was imperfect? It wasn’t like all that attention to detail had gotten her very far before.
She shook her head. God, she sounded like a whiny, feeling-sorry-for-herself nitwit. This wasn’t her and she wasn’t going to let it be her. She wasn’t one to give up. She’d never given up her dream. Her mother had made her swear that she wouldn’t. No way in hell she was going to let herself or her mother down.
For hours she worked steadily, the sun rising higher and more sunlight shining through her window. At one point she closed her blinds because she felt too exposed to the passersby on the sidewalk. She’d noticed a couple of guys walking back and forth on the street outside, seeming like they were trying to get a glimpse of her painting. Painting was private. Even moreso now that she was spilling her heart and her devastation onto the canvas.
She’d just put the last touches on the painting when a knock sounded at her door. She froze, dismay coursing through her veins. Was Ash here? He’d been blunt about the fact that he’d give her last night but that he wasn’t giving up on her or them. He’d wanted her to think about it but she’d shoved the whole issue solidly from her mind and immersed herself in work.
She rose, hands shaking. She could ignore the door, but she wasn’t a coward. And if Ash had come all this way, the least she could do was tell him that she needed more time. Space.
Her heart beating a mile a minute, she wiped her hands and went to the door. Taking a deep breath, she opened it. Blinking in surprise, she took in the fact that it was not Ash at her door. Was it disappointment she felt? She shook that idea off and stared wordlessly at Mia and Bethany who wore determined expressions on their faces.
“You look awful,” Mia said bluntly. “Have you slept at all?”
“Stupid question, Mia. It’s obvious she hasn’t,” Bethany said.
“What are you doing here?” Josie asked faintly.
“To answer what will likely be your next question, no, Ash didn’t send us,” Mia said firmly. “To answer your first question, we’re here because we’re dragging you to lunch with us and don’t even think about telling us no.”
Josie’s mouth fell open. Bethany laughed.
“You may as well give in gracefully, Josie,” Bethany said, laughter still in her voice. “Mia is very determined and she’s kind of scary when she sets her mind to something. I’m sure Gabe will attest to that fact.”
Mia elbowed Bethany and scowled. Despite herself, Josie smiled, relief settling over her shoulders.
“Can you give me just a minute to clean up? I’ve, uh, been working,” she finished lamely.
“Sure,” Mia chirped.
“Come in,” Josie said hastily. “Have a seat. It’s kind of a mess. I haven’t unpacked or anything and as I said, I’ve been working.”
“Is this your new stuff?” Bethany asked softly when they entered the living room.