And just before the pestering man could open his mouth to cut off the duke again, a few more bodies entered the shop doing the job for him. Violet waved at her sister as she walked over.
“Iris,” Violet practically squealed, which caused Alex to wince at her side. “I’m so excited to see the painting of the sea you’ve done.”
“The painting?” Surprisingly, both Lester and Iris asked this at the same time.
Lester beat Iris to the follow up question. “What painting?”
“You did go down to the sea today to paint, did you not?” Violet’s face was beaming. “I can’t wait to see what you did—”
“I didn’t paint the sea today.” She sheepishly gestured to Tristan, the sheepishness of which stung just a little tiny bit until he realized the reason for her sheep-like behavior was that she was imagining what they had been doing on the beach. “He…called on me.”
Yes. He called alright. And he wanted to—
“You paint?” Lester interrupted, rudely.
And then, before Tristan could grasp the direction of the conversation, Lester blurted out, “This is the painter, isn’t it?” And he was glaring at Tristan. “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you.” Lester muttered. “A woman.”
Oh no. He didn’t. He did not just disparage Iris in front of him. Again.
“Lester—”
“I’m out.” He stood abruptly. Unnecessarily. Dramatically. “I will not invest in a gallery that supports painters of the female variety.” A few strides and the pest was out the door.
Well…now if that just wasn’t the perfect outcome—
“What gallery?” Iris turned to him.
Damn.
It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. Everything all at once. All the wrong pieces falling in all the wrong spots. That wasn’t quite true. At least one piece had just fallen in the right spot. Namely, the dissolution of the business deal that he had partnered on too quickly with Lester. The deal he had wanted out of but couldn’t break the contract. Lester had finally done something good. Ifhebreached the contract, then all was well. Good riddance, and thank you. Next.
“Tristan?” Iris’s voice was cautious.
Alex, not one prone to too many words, was the first to speak. But it wasn’t an answer to the question. It was directed to Violet who was standing in a somewhat shocked pose. Mouth slightly agape. Eyebrows shot up to the ceiling. “Perhaps we should sit at another table, Violet. For a moment.”
He led her away and Iris repeated her inquiry for a third time. “What gallery, Tristan?” It wasn’t interrogative, but she was asking like she already knew the answer wasn’t going to please her.
“My darling,” he rested his hand on hers, “I have made plans to secure your paintings at an exhibit in a gallery—”
“I never asked for that, Tristan.”
“Your paintings are incredible, Iris. They should be shared with the world.”
“I never wanted that. I paint for myself and close friends—”
“But everyone should—”
“Everyone should mind their own business, Tristan. My paintings are for me.” He could see the tremble in her legs and the small quiver in her chin. “I can’t believe you kept this secret from me. We tell each other everything—”
“It was a surprise—”
“It’s not a good one, Tristan. Not even an all right one.” Her eyes darted around and Violet appeared at her side. “I can’t believe you would go behind my back like this. Sharing my secretwith the world. If I wanted them to know, don’t you think I would have told them?”
“But—”
Alex rested a hand on Tristan’s shoulder. It was the right thing to do. They were in a tea shop for all to witness. This was a discussion for another time.
“I don’t want to see you right now.” Her small sniffle almost killed him on the spot.