Page 52 of Never Fall Again

“Want to ride with me?” Cal pointed to his truck. “I’ll swing you back when we’re done.”

Landry’s car was a half mile away. “Sure. That sounds great.”

Cal held out his hand. “After you.” He opened the door for her, and when she had climbed into his behemoth of a vehicle, he closed it and jogged around to the driver’s side.

He wasn’t smooth and polished the way the rich, famous, and occasionally talented but usually mediocre actors who deigned to visit The Haven were. He was. ..real.

And it was a good thing they’d decided to be friends, because she could enjoy lunch out without having to worry about him catching feelings for her.

The thought should have soothed the butterflies in her stomach that refused to settle, but it didn’t.

Fifteen

Several weeks later, Landry smiled at the men standing in her studio. They were regulars who regularly flirted with her. Today, they decided to take their art efforts to a new level, but the results were less than they’d hoped for.

“They’re awful,” Silas, a thirtysomething pro athlete, groaned. “It looks like something I would have made in kindergarten.”

Landry looked at the canvas. “You’re very good with your hands, but it’s possible painting isn’t going to be where you find your greatest creative joy.”

Derrick chortled. “At least you can tell what his is supposed to be. Mine looks like blood spatter.” He would know. He was a forensic scientist who now consulted on several popular television crime procedurals. The money in consulting wasn’t typically enough to make someone a regular at The Haven, but Derrick had married an up-and-coming star. When she cheated on him, he destroyed her in court. He lived more than comfortably now. He’d also made friends in the entertainment industry who were quick to invite him to The Haven whenever they visited.

One of those friends, Ignacio, made the trip to The Haven at least three times a year. Ignacio, who was known by that one name and no other, was a well-known stunt actor. He was in high demandand made money from the stunts he did himself, the consulting he did for stunts others did, and in the last few years, endorsements. Landry would bet he was the one who’d convinced his buddies to come to the group art class today.

The women who’d attended had kept to themselves, painted their pictures, and left. The men had laughed, sipped their drinks, and dared each other to try random techniques and color combinations. They’d had fun, which was the point. But their canvases left a lot to be desired.

Ignacio shoved Silas. “I would say you should take private lessons, but I’m not sure even Landry could sort you out.”

Silas waggled his eyebrows. “What do you say, Landry?” His words dripped with innuendo. “Could I interest you in someprivatelessons?”

Ignacio smacked him on the head. “I didn’t say for you togivethe lessons. I said for you totakethem.”

“I heard you.” Silas winked at Landry. “Whatdya say?”

Landry deflected, as she did every time. “I’ll have to decline your kind offer.” She waved toward the canvases. “Should I have them shipped to you?”

Silas and Derrick shook their heads.

“Could you burn them?” Derrick wasn’t joking. “I don’t want any proof of this experience. This is one of those times when I’m so glad no one has a phone on them.” Phones weren’t allowed in any of the public areas of The Haven. Guests kept them in their rooms, and posting to social media was strictly prohibited for privacy purposes. “No offense, Landry. You were amazing as ever.”

She didn’t say what she wanted to say—that if they drank less and paid more attention, they could have come up with something lovely. As it was, only Ignacio had produced a painting that resembled the one she’d modeled for them.

Ignacio pointed to his painting. “Keep it. I’m headed for Eastern Europe and won’t be home for at least a month.”

“Eastern Europe?” Ignacio was a nice guy, but Landry fully expected to see news one day that he’d died a violent death. He took risks no one should take. “Can you tell us what you’ll be doing?”

“Sorry, Landry. I didn’t read the entire contract. But my lawyer assured me there was no wiggle room for speaking of it in any way. I probably shouldn’t have even told you where I was headed.”

“I have no idea how you make your life work, man.” Silas took another sip of his drink. “Do you even know what you’re doing after this job?”

Ignacio shrugged. “I think it’s in Africa. Or maybe Alaska? My agent will tell me. That’s what I pay him for.”

“I don’t trust my agent as far as I can throw him.” That meant more coming from Silas than almost anyone Landry knew. Silas was a pitcher. She’d watched him play on TV. “I monitor everything he does.”

“Life’s too short for that mess.” Ignacio slapped him on the back.

“Your life, maybe.” Derrick handed Landry a twenty-dollar bill. “Thanks again, Landry. Maybe next time we can paint something intentionally abstract.”

“Yeah.” Silas handed Landry another twenty. “Knowing you, if you go for abstract, you’ll wind up with a landscape.”