Richard looked over at her. “Did you not eat?”
She looked at the croissants that her stomach already didn’t want and shook her head. “I’ve been struggling to eat since Elena.”
“Not good,” he said. “You need to keep up your strength.” He motioned at the croissant. “Go ahead. Eat up.”
She sighed and picked up the coffee instead.
He shook his head. “No,” he said, “you don’t eat right now because you want to. You eat now because you have to.”
She stared at him.
He pointed at the wall and said, “You can’t do this, and you can’t do it to the level of what you want to do unless you immediately start eating. You’ve lost weight just in the last few days.”
“That’s no surprise,” she said, sipping her coffee. “I often lose weight when I’m doing these big projects.”
He leaned forward and said, “So, how do you think Elena would feel if her death caused you to lose focus and to stop taking care of yourself to the point that your art suffered?”
She glared at him. “That’s a low blow,” she snapped.
He nodded slowly. “It is, and, for that, I’m sorry. But you do need to remember to look after yourself.”
“I thought you figured I was the killer,” she murmured, eyeing him steadily.
He shook his head and smiled. “No, of course not.”
She hated to feel the relief settle inside, but it was definitely a relief to hear that she wasn’t considered a suspect. She took a sip of the hot coffee, lifted her gaze to see him studying her with a note of amusement in his eyes, and she said, “At least tell me why.”
“So, now you’re upset that you’re not on my suspect list?”
Her lips quirked. “I know it’s perverse of me, but you have to consider the fact that I was, at least initially, and I don’t know what’s changed.”
“It’s easy.” He leaned forward, touched her hand, and said, “You painted the masterpiece on Elena, correct?”
She nodded slowly.
“It’s your artwork. It’s that piece of you that makes everything so special.”
She shrugged at that but murmured, “Yes, it’s a piece that I cared about on a model who I cared about.”
“Exactly,” he said. “And, if there’s one thing I’ve come to understand, it’s that you would never ruin your own artwork.”
Her eyes widened as she stared at him. “Oh.”
He chuckled. “Surprises you, huh?”
“Yeah,” she said. “It does actually.”
“It shouldn’t. One thing that you are through and through is an artist.”
“What if she ruined the painting,” she said, “and then maybe I got angry.”
“If that was the case,” he said, “you would have ordered her to take it off, using whatever means that you guys remove the paint from human skin. You never would have cut it off her.”
She settled back, smiled, and said, “You do know me.”
“Have you ever ordered somebody to take off the paint and never used the model again?” He watched as she made a tiny wincing motion and then nodded slowly. He leaned forward, “Who?”
“Trish. She kept ruining the paint. On purpose. I stopped and ordered her to clean up and to not come back.”
He stared at her in shock.
She smiled and nodded. “Nothing is quite like having a model who believes she knows more than you.”
“Wow,” he said. “That takes a lot of balls.”
“Not sure that’s quite the right answer,” she said, “but I wouldn’t tolerate it. And I refused to paint over it, on a model that undeserving. So I fired Trish, brought in a new model, and started over.”
“Do you always have a choice? If so, why do you use Naomi now?”
“I wouldn’t if I had a choice in this case,” she said carefully, “but sometimes the people who pay for this work see or know the models, and they make the request for that model.”
He studied her for a long time. “And why would somebody request her?”
She stared at him in surprise. “She’s beautiful.”
“A lot of beautiful woman are here. But why would one of these philanthropists request her?”
A smile played at the corner of her lips as she said, “Maybe as a favor.”
He sat back and said, “She sleeps with them, doesn’t she?”
The beautiful woman across from him shrugged and said, “She might. I have no proof of that, but I’ve heard rumors.”
“That’s a lot of sleeping around.”
Her gaze twinkled back at him. “Naomi does love life, and she lives it to the hilt. That usually means she enjoys a lot of different partners. Particularly if they do something for her.”
“Do you like her as a person?”
“No,” she said, “but that has nothing to do with it. I have to live with what I live with, and that is all there is to it.”
“Do you get to pick out any models yourself from now on?”
“I’m working with four different ones over the next few weeks,” she said. “I’m hoping to find that I enjoy working with some of them.”
“One or more?”
“It’s a new era for me,” she said sadly. “So more. Definitely more.”
*
“New models?” He stared at the notice on the door. It was a call for models for Cayce’s projects. How he’d love to see the models. It was unusual for her to even advertise this much. Although a simple sheet on the entrance to her gallery was hardly advertising. He couldn’t contain the whisper of excitement deep in his belly. Was this the chance she’d find another Elena? He wanted to watch. To see whom she chose. To see the lineup and to pick his own. Surely it would be his time right now, wouldn’t it?
When the best-of-the-best put out the call for new models, you could damn well be sure he would be there. Now he just had to make sure that he was on time and was prepared for his best performance.
Chapter 11
When Cayce got home that night, she could feel the throbbing in her gut and her temples. They were both
