“You have to know your roots,” Jackson agreed.
“Well, I personally appreciate the courage of striking out, really reaching for something no one has ever done before,” Declan shrugged.
“Ninety-nine percent of the time, that’s just marketing BS,” I shot back, wishing I could stop myself. “The artist isn’t doing anything that hasn’t been done a thousand times by teenagers at public colleges all across the country. It’s just their gallerist giving some collector a sales pitch.”
Declan sat back, smirking and apparently satisfied with my answer. “Yes, we can be notoriously easy to manipulate.”
I cringed, cursing myself for my big fat mouth and wishing Bridget was here. There’s a reason you have a gallery, I reminded myself. It’s so they never have to hear you talk.
“Oh, Dec, leave her alone,” Jackson chuckled, casting his eyes toward the coffee service. “He’s just egging you on, you know.”
I raised a hand in front of me and tried not to grimace. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean you… I mean, I didn’t mean… Ugh. Is there more coffee?”
“I think she can take it. You can take it, can’t you, Margot?”
“Actually, I think I’m still tired from my flight yesterday,” I lied. “Usually I’m a little smoother with the art talk.”
Oh, another lie, I thought. Good god, if Bridget gets wind of this conversation, I am dead.
Declan shrugged again as though something had been decided. “I think you’re fine,” he drawled. “It’s good to know you’re passionate.”
I nodded sheepishly and pushed my coffeecup toward Jackson for another refill. He tipped the pot, pouring the last of it in my mug and shot me a sympathetic look.
See that? He understands, I told myself. Now calm down. Just try not to say anything else truly stupid.
“So how long is this flight?” I small-talked.
“We’ll get there in just another few minutes. It’s less than an hour in the Gulfstream.”
“That’s amazing,” I said, breathing across the surface of the coffee, luxuriating in the scent.
“It’s not nearly enough time to get to know you,” Declan said, startling me. What could he mean by that? He turned toward me from the small oval window and smiled.
“I think you need to pick now,” he said.
I looked back and forth between them for clues.
“Pick what?”
Declan waved his hand at himself, then Jackson. “Pick one of us,” he said simply.
“Pick one of you for…” I repeated vaguely.
Wait. Did he just say…
I met Jackson’s gentle, sky-blue stare and then glanced back at Declan. They both watched me expectantly.
“You don’t mean…”
“Of course I do,” Declan said matter-of-factly. “I don’t say things I don’t mean.”
My heart started to race. It was too much pressure. Besides, who does that sort of thing?
“Well, I can’t just--” I looked to Jackson for guidance. He seemed like a sweeter person compared to Declan’s brash assertiveness. But Jackson just looked at me plainly and I realized he wasn’t at all surprised by this turn of events.
“Look,” Declan said with an exaggerated sigh, “if you can’t pick, then we will pick for you.”
Jackson gave me a small nod. Did that mean he wanted me to pick him, or was he just confirming that they would choose for me?
The jet leaned downward, and I realized we were beginning our descent toward LA. Part of me wished we had more time together on the flight, but a stronger part of me was grateful I was almost out of minutes in which to embarrass myself.
“You guys are hilarious,” I drawled, I said, leaning back and trying to affect a nonchalant posture. “How could I possibly choose between two excellent suitors?”
“OK then,” Declan nodded. He looked at Jackson and shrugged. “Sounds good.”
I chuckled and downed the rest of my coffee. When I set the cup back on the table, Jackson was smiling at me too.
“Wait, what did I just agree to?” I laughed, hoping they would let me in on the joke.
“Two excellent suitors, by the sound of it,” Declan replied.
“Oh, right. Well, color me Cinderella,” I said lightly, trying to figure out what was really going on.
“As you wish,” Jackson cut in immediately, quoting The Princess Bride.
“Once Upon a Dream,” Declan nodded sagely, tossing in the theme from Sleeping Beauty.
“I see we’re all versed in princess plots,” I observed.
“I was always partial to Briar Rose,” Jackson added wryly.