“There’s a caretaker.”
“What?”
“I won’t be alone. There’s a caretaker on the island.” We hadn’t actually spoken, but my manager had communicated briefly with the woman. Said that everything was in order for my arrival. But, honestly, I wasn’t sure I could handle having even a single soul in my business.
“Your island came with a person?”
I chuckled. “No, she worked for the previous owners. But she’s staying on with the house if we can come to terms.”
“Jesus. That’s some sort of Downton Abbey shit.”
“That makes you want to come with me, doesn’t it?”
Carson pointed his beer at me. “Don’t start. You know I’ll deck you if you insult Downton.”
I held up both hands. “I would never.”
“That’s better.” He sobered again. “It’s not enough. One random person. I’m worried you’re going to become one of those hoarder hermits. We’ll have to hire a team for an intervention.”
“I solemnly swear not to become a hoarder.”
Carson eyed the door to my apartment. “Not if Lara has anything to say about it. I’m pretty sure she’s planning to airdrop your entire studio onto that new little island of yours.”
I groaned, leaning back against the chaise. “I never should’ve let her handle packing it up.”
“You know she’s like a dog with a bone. Gets even a hint of a grip, and she’s not giving it up for anything.”
It was the perfect description for a woman who looked the opposite of what she was. Petite, delicate, and impeccably dressed, you never expected the colorful curses that escaped her mouth. Or the way she took anyone to task if it got her clients what they and she wanted.
We’d been friends since I arrived in New York at the age of eighteen. She’d run with my crazy crowd but had discovered that she had more talent for wheeling and dealing in the art world than putting paint to surface. Now, almost twenty years later, she handled practically everything for me.
“She’s hoping I’ll keep painting.”
“No shit, Sherlock. You’re the one who keeps her Chelsea penthouse full of Louboutins.”
I took another pull of my beer. “She’ll find another prize pony. It’ll be you if you’re not careful.”
Carson gave an exaggerated shiver. “Too worried she’ll stab me in my sleep.”
“Or maybe you guys will hate-fuck each other and finally stop making my life miserable whenever you’re in the same room together.”
Carson leaned back onto the lounge. “That idea has merit.”
I snorted. “You would solve every problem you could by sleeping with it, just as long as it was female.”
“I have wide and varied tastes in both women and art. So sue me.”
“I don’t know how discerning those tastes are…”
“I like the shit you make, so you’re really just insulting yourself.”
“Fair point.” I was quiet for a moment. “I’ll miss this.”
“You sound like you’re going off to war. No one’s making you leave. I’m sure you could get out of the purchase.”
“I need a change.” But it was more than that. I needed to figure out who I was again, what I truly wanted. And I had to do that away from the prying eyes of New York. I felt as if I couldn’t move here. Couldn’t breathe. And every step I took had the potential to detonate another bomb.
“Fine. Buy a spot upstate. One I can drive to in a couple of hours. You’ll be out of the fray of the city but not cut off from your entire life.”
But I needed that distance. A clean break was the only way to truly start over. “I’m going, Car.”
“Fucking hell. Fine. But when you’re bored as shit in two weeks, don’t come crying to me.”
“I promise, I won’t.”
“I’m gonna miss you too, you asshole.”
I grinned. “You’re going to come visit in a month when I’m settled. Hopefully, we’ll be well into building the studio by then.”
“I am jealous of the space you’ll have.”
Space in New York might as well be made of diamonds. And when you worked on large-scale art the way Carson and I did, it was a commodity you’d shed blood for. “I’m finalizing the designs with the architect now. It’s been a hell of a thing getting to choose every last placement.”
“Let’s hope the new space brings inspiration.”
Carson and I both started at the voice behind us. Carson muttered a curse. “Have you lost the ability to ring the bell?”
Lara held up a glinting piece of metal. “I don’t have to knock. I have a key.”
“Brody could’ve been banging a chick out here.”
Her face screwed up. “He’s not you. He has some decency.”
He gave her a wink. “Come on, Lara. You know you’d kill for a walk on this wild side.”
Her lip curled. “Not if it meant I’d have to be inoculated afterwards.”
I choked on my beer, and Carson speared me with a glare. “Don’t laugh at her jabs.”
Lara crossed to a chair, gracefully lowered herself onto it, and then set her handbag on the table. “He has good taste, what can I say?”
“More like you’ve trained him well,” Carson muttered.
I set my beer on the other side table. “All right, children. Can’t we all just get along?”
Carson gave me a mock pout. “She started it, Dad.”
“Gross,” Lara complained. “I will not be related to you. Not even in a make-believe scenario.”
I sighed, leaning my head against the chaise. “This, I will not miss.”
“I’ll put a hit out on Carson if you agree to stay in New York,” Lara offered.
“No hitman is going to take me out. I’ve got ninja skills.”
Lara rolled her eyes and then turned her focus back to me. “Seriously. We can call off the move.”
“I leave tomorrow.”
She made a pssh sound. “If I can put together a gallery show in forty-eight hours, I can reverse the sale of your condo and studio.”
This had been the refrain for the past month. The first time I’d floated the idea past Lara, she’d nearly lost her mind. She’d told me I would ruin my career. Burn all my bridges. But I didn’t have much of a career at the current juncture. It had all been blown to smithereens. Or the people who were interested in my art only wanted it for some perversely morbid reason.
I hadn’t drawn or painted or done anything in the art realm in months. And I missed it like a phantom limb. This part of me that had ceased to be in a violent tearing. But every time I tried to put even a pencil to paper, I seized up, images of how my art had been turned into something twisted filling my mind.
“Brody…”
Lara’s voice brought me out of my spiral. “Sorry. What?”
She shared a look with Carson. This was one area where they were on the same page. “Stay. You need your family right now.”
I gave my head a shake. “I’m going.” I left it at that. I’d tried explaining myself time and again. It never did any good. With either of them. I’d miss Lara and Car. I’d miss the noise and the scents of the city. The chaotic rhythms that came from the life that flowed through this place. My favorite deli on the corner. The local bar my crew and I invaded every Thursday.