Series: Werewolves of Wall Street Series by Renee Rose
Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Billy’s tone is dry, but it starts a curl of pleasure in my belly to hear that he knows about my work. I shouldn’t care–I don’t need his recognition. But there’s no denying the hum of warmth inside me.
“Speaking of your murals–you have to tell me what the deal is with the Sentience mural,” Madi says.
“Oh, right.” I glance over my shoulder at Billy, who, for some unknown reason, is still standing. I guess he likes to be the master of his domain. “I, uh–let’s talk when we go out next week. I’ll give you the whole scoop.”
“You’re painting a mural for Sentience?” Billy’s voice carries disbelief.
Again, I’m just a teensy bit flattered that he seems to know me–or think he knows me–well enough to comprehend that the job is out of character for me.
I wave a dismissive hand. “I finished it.”
“For Sentience.”
“They pay well.”
Billy suddenly man-sprawls on the sofa beside me. It’s a nice leather couch, so it doesn’t dip too much, but his large presence registers in every cell of my body. He leans back with one ankle crossed over his knee, his arms stretching out on the back of the couch in each direction, one behind my shoulders. “How well?”
Jeez. I didn’t expect the sudden interest. I might have underestimated Billy. I considered him a self-centered prick. But here he is, sniffing into my business like he can smell my deceit. That actually takes a level of empathy and human understanding.
Maybe that’s how he got to the top in Brick’s company. He is a self-centered prick who is savvy enough to manipulate those around him. That’s my new working theory.
“Twenty grand.” Obviously, I’m not doing it for the money. Madi knows that. It seems Billy knows that, too, but I’m not about to tell him what I’m really up to over there. It’s none of his business, and he wouldn’t understand.
“Thought you didn’t care about money.” It’s a jab, but I feel him watching me, like he really wants to figure out the puzzle.
Damn.
This could be a problem.
“I needed to pay off my student loans,” I toss out, which is not a lie.
Brick’s fingers trace down Madi’s thighs, and she squirms in his lap. They probably won’t last another five minutes before they disappear to fuck again.
“Fifty grand,” Billy blurts.
I slow-turn to give him a withering look. “Fifty grand what?”
“I’ll give you fifty grand for a mural in here.”
The Champagne–or prosecco–has definitely gone to my head. I snort. “Why?”
His blue-grey eyes are fathomless as he stares back at me coolly.
“I don’t understand,” I say, honestly. He would hate my art. It doesn’t make sense.
“Aubrey’s work is incredible.” Madi starts selling me, even though my services aren’t for sale. “She could transform this place.”
I look around doubtfully. What I paint would look horrible in here. I paint with bright colors–and it’s mostly protest art. I’m about social change, not billionaire bros. But it would be fun to be in his space, tormenting him on a daily basis. I could insist on working nights, when he’s home.
I’d get to see Madi on a daily basis again. That would be nice.
“But no color,” Billy adds.
I smack my lips. “Hard pass.”
Except my mind was already enjoying the idea of the job. As I speak the words, I’m a little sorry at my haste in refusing.
I steal a look at him. He’s sitting too close to me for me to fully face him, and I’m suddenly hyper aware of the six inches that separate our legs on the couch.
Billy’s posture is relaxed. There’s a smug expression on his face. Why on Earth does he think he’s won something here? I just said, hard pass.
“Anyone can make a big splash with color. It takes nuance and subtlety to find the life in the gray area.”
“Is that where you reside?” I make the mistake of looking at him again. I’m suddenly trapped in his blue-grey gaze. “In the grey area?”
I suddenly wonder just how grey he goes. What rules does he bend? In what aspects of his life?
He gives a barely perceptible nod. “Yes.” There’s a purr to his voice that unnerves me. I don’t know why or how he thinks he suddenly got the upper hand, but we flipped from me goading him to him provoking me. He’s issuing a challenge, and his eyes glint with the knowledge that I’m going to accept.
No, I’m not. That’s insane. Why would I?
I glance at Madi, and she gives me an encouraging flick of her brows. Like she wants me to negotiate this deal with him. And as much of an outsider as I feel with Madi and her new life, the idea of having this entry point appeals to me. We’d have shared experience again. Common ground.
“One hundred thousand for two murals.” I throw out because that’s the number that would make me feel okay about giving in. I don’t lust for money, but things are definitely shoe-string tight. The reason it’s taken me five years to get my degree is because I work almost full time in addition to school. The Sentience job allowed me some breathing room, but that money feels dirty. Plus, Madi’s still footing the bill for her half of our apartment, and while I love having her former bedroom as a painting studio, I don’t like accepting her charity.