I Hate, I Bake, and I Don’t Date! by Alina Jacobs

59

Beck

Dammit. I had fucked up. I never should have given that painting away.

“Are we going out to dinner?” Enola asked as she and Annie skipped into the living room. “Is Tess changing?”

What was I going to say to them?

“She…” I searched for an excuse. “She had another meeting she had to attend. But we can go grab something to eat.”

The girls were chatty as they relayed the scandal that had been snuffed out that day.

I felt guilty. I could have just used the contract Greg had wanted to draw up. But who knew if Alistair would have even signed it? Not to mention the negotiations could have dragged on. This was the cleaner, more certain path. I had to do it for my sisters. There wasn’t any line I wouldn’t cross for them.

Tess had said that one of the things she liked about me was that I put my sisters first. I couldn’t do anything less.

But I loved being around Tess.

Surely, she would come back.

I’ll buy her something nice. I’ll find a replacement painting, or hell, I’ll have someone recreate it. It had probably been a cheap print anyway. I scrolled through my text messages. Tess had previously sent me a photo of the living room with the painting in a prominent position as a joke.

I forwarded it to my brother Archer. He collected high-end art pieces, and his girlfriend was an artist.

Beck:Do you think you can find me a painting that looks like this?

Archer:Dude, where did you get this?

Beck:I think Tess’s mom bought it at a thrift store or something.

Beck:It’s probably one of those fake prints you can find at a craft store that you buy for cheap motels.

Archer:You are embarrassingly ignorant.

Archer:I’d have to see this in person, but it’s either a very good fake or its one of Phillip Atwell’s long-lost paintings.

Beck:…I’m guessing he’s not still alive and could make us another?

Archer:He died forty years ago. If this painting is what I think it is, then it’s worth about five million dollars.

Beck:…Shit.

Archer:I can come by with some art appraisers and take a look tomorrow.

Beck:I might not have it anymore.

Archer:Bro, if you destroyed that painting…

Beck:I gave it away.

Beck:It was an emergency.

Archer:Dude.

I probably wasn’t going to be able to just go on eBay and buy something similar.

Perhaps I could have a forgery made. Maybe. I didn’t know much about art forgery, but I was pretty sure they needed more than a slightly blurry text message–quality photo.

And Tess probably wouldn’t accept a copy, not if that was the last piece she had of her mother.

I needed to get that painting back. And soon.

Shannyn must have known how much it was worth. She would probably put it up for auction at some point, right? I could just anonymously buy it back for Tess. I rifled back through my memories. Shannyn had worked at an art gallery, right?

Beck:How does the art auction system work?

Archer: I’m guessing you didn’t just give the painting away to a homeless person.

Beck:She’s an art dealer.

Archer:*sigh*

Archer:I bet she already has a private buyer lined up.

Beck:Shit.

What was I going to do? I didn’t want to lose my sisters, but I also didn’t want to lose Tess. I needed her. My life would be empty without her.

The restaurant the girls had picked was busy. I put our names down on the list at the hostess station then went to wait with my sisters.

“Tess didn’t want to come?” Enola asked. “Did you ask her?”

“She didn’t respond to me when I texted her,” Annie said with concern. “Is she okay?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I gave away something of hers that I didn’t have a right to.”

“Uh-oh! Can you get it back?” Enola asked.

“I’m not sure. Probably not, unless by some sort of miracle. So if you two have any great ideas for an apology present, I’m all ears.”

“What did you give away?”

“Her painting,” I said with a grimace.

My sisters each winced.

“Ooh, that’s rough.”

“Yep.” I looked around the restaurant, willing Tess to appear or at least that painting. Instead, my eyes locked with two ice-blue ones at the nearby bar.

“Hi, Belle,” I said. She was with Dana Holbrook, her business partner. Both women glared at me.

“Hi, Ms. Belle. Hi, Ms. Dana!” my sisters chorused. The two women smiled at the girls then turned their ire back to me.

“So this is one of the ones trying to steal my tower?” Dana raised an eyebrow.

I wondered if Greg had fully considered the fact that he would not only piss off both women but also their respective male family members. Knowing my brother, he probably thought that was a plus.

“Great evening for a meal,” I said, shifting my weight.

“Cut the BS,” Dana said. “We were just discussing how to keep you brother from stealing our flagship investment project.”

“Greg is fully committed to having that tower,” I warned them.

“And I’m fully committed to that not transpiring,” Belle retorted.

I rubbed the back of my neck. “I don’t know what you want me to do about it?”

“I want you to get your brothers on board to vote for someone who is not Greg and not one of your brothers so that he can just manipulate them,” Belle replied.

“I’m not going to do that.”

“In exchange,” she added, “I’ll get you a certain painting that I had to comfort your crying girlfriend about earlier this evening.”

I froze. “The real, actual one?”

She nodded.

“How?”

“I have my ways.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Why should I believe you?”

“Because unlike you and your brothers, I’m not a lying sack of shit,” she said sharply.

“Fair enough.”

“I’ll have the painting by the HOA meeting. You just need to do your part.”

I frowned. “But the painting was part of an important deal.”

“Yes, I’m sure it was part of some deal. I’m assuming it has to do with that clusterfuck in the tabloids?” Belle said with a sniff. “You all terribly mishandled that, by the way. It was amateur hour over at Svensson Investment. I was embarrassed for you. Don’t worry. It won’t impact your sisters. They’re my kindred spirits.”

They smiled at her happily.

“You all should order the fries,” Belle told them. “They’re amazing.”

I felt elated through dinner, dreaming about how Tess was going to react when I showed up with her painting and a big apology. I should probably bring her flowers, too, maybe jewelry as well, to seal the deal. This was going to work out!

The HOA meeting couldn’t come soon enough.

But as I lay in bed that night, missing her, I remembered that the next morning I was going to have to see Tess at work.

Fuck, how is that going to go down?

Maybe I would have her transferred. I knew I was still supposed to fire her but no way could I do that now, not after giving away her special painting.

I arrivedat work as early as possible so I could avoid having to walk past her desk to my office.

Tess, thankfully, wasn’t there.

I was debating whether or not to text her to tell her to take the next few days off when Owen and Walker came into my office. They were both grim faced.

“What happened?” I asked, standing up.

Owen crossed his arms then uncrossed them.

Walker shifted his weight on his feet.

“Beck,” Owen said gruffly. “You’re my friend and cofounder, and you’re normally a rational human being so I’m just going to come out and say it. Tess needs to go. She needs to go today.”

“Where?”

“You need to fire her,” Walker said. “It was all over the tabloids yesterday; people are talking.”

“So,” I said, “let them talk.” I didn’t look at my friend or my brother, instead carefully arranging the pens on my blotter.

“Besides,” I added. “All that has been cleared up. The false stories should be removed from the internet by now.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Walker said. “Our employees are talking. Productivity’s down.”

“I can’t fire her today,” I said quietly.

“Every time we bring it up, you say you’re working on it, that you need to break the news gently. Time’s up, Beck,” Owen said. “Either you can fire Tess or I will.”