The Wright Mistake Page 6

  “Nope.”

  “Plenty of art to see,” Morgan told me. “But, first, wine.”

  “That should be on a T-shirt,” Heidi said. “But, first, wine.”

  “And they all said, Amen,” Emery muttered.

  We parked in a parking lot with a big sign that said they were going to tow us if we parked there. I shot Heidi a look of unease, but she laughed at me. Apparently, all parking lots downtown were free game for the First Friday Art Trail. Where I came from, if we’d parked there, we wouldn’t have a car when we got back. Lubbock, man.

  The weather was overcast and a little nippy as we meandered down the street to the main center where the food trucks were set up. I wish I had my bomber jacket, but again, I hadn’t been able to find it. If I’d lost it for good, I was going to be really pissed at myself.

  We all bought some wine, and Heidi got an ice cream cone as well from the Blue Oasis food truck. Then, I finally got to walk into my first gallery.

  A sigh escaped me. This was pure joy. Canvas after canvas was covered in beautiful paint, capturing an emotion, a person, a new discovery. Art was insight and power and passion. Art didn’t lie. It didn’t cheat. It didn’t hate. It just was. You took out of it whatever message you saw in it, but it was all beautiful. From the smallest photograph to the largest mural from a solo street dance performance to a symphony from a haiku to a full-blown novel. If art made you feel, then it had done its job.

  I was so engrossed in the amazing work an artist had done with growing intricately designed plants in pots and creating an elaborate mural with tiny flora with soft, velvety green leaves that I’d almost completely forgotten that I was with a group. And I’d somehow downed my entire glass of wine. I couldn’t even remember putting it to my lips.

  “I think I need another wine,” I said, catching Morgan’s eye nearby.

  She held her empty glass up. “Same. I’ll walk with you.”

  We waved our empty glasses at Heidi and Emery, who were arguing over a circular terrarium at the center of the room. They waved us off, and Morgan and I set off to refill our glasses.

  “That was a cool exhibit,” Morgan said. “I’d never seen anything like that before.”

  “Me either. I don’t have a green thumb whatsoever. I’m pretty sure I would kill every plant imaginable.”

  “You and me both.”

  “Are you excited about your new job?”

  Something in Morgan shifted at that question. She stood a little taller. She smiled a little wider. Her eyes glittered.

  “I’m ready to take over the world. It’s time.”

  I laughed. “What are we doing tonight, Brain?”

  “The same thing we do every night,” Morgan said with a grin.

  “Drink wine?” I offered.

  “Hell yes. I deserve some celebratory drinks. Like, ten at least.”

  “Are you going to be able to stand?”

  “God, I hope not.”

  This was probably the most one-on-one time I’d ever spent with Morgan, and I was kicking myself, wondering why I’d never done it before. Probably because Morgan was a bit intimidating. She really had her shit together. She knew exactly who she was. And she showed no fear. It was enviable. Especially for someone like me.

  “We should do this more often,” Morgan said. “How do you feel about trashy magazines and bad reality TV?”

  “Um…guilty pleasure?”

  “Great. We’re going to be best friends. Can we get matching tattoos?” she said with such a serious face that I had no idea if she was joking.

  “I’m covered in tattoos. I’ll hold your hand.”

  She sent me a secret little smile. “How do you know I don’t already have one?”

  “Touché.”

  We grabbed another glass of wine and were on our way back to the exhibit we’d left Heidi and Emery at when someone started catcalling Morgan’s name. Her eyes widened, and she shot around. I followed her in a circle, only to let my stomach drop to the concrete.

  Austin.

  “Morgan! Whoop!” Patrick called, whistling suggestively at her.

  Her face bloomed a perfect shade of pink at the attention. But I could see that she enjoyed it. What got me was…Patrick was most certainly not alone.

  “I’m not a dog. Stop whistling at me,” Morgan said.

  Patrick laughed and threw an arm around her shoulders. “Ah, Mor, come on. Have a little fun.”

  “Hey,” I said to Austin.

  Austin’s dark eyes met mine, and I shivered.

  “Hey.”

  He looked sexy as hell. A light cotton button-up with the sleeves rolled up to reveal the tattoos hidden underneath. His hair was tousled, as if he’d been running his fingers through it. I envisioned myself gripping the longer strands on top and had to visibly reel it in. His stormy eyes seemed to sense where my thoughts had headed, and they sparkled with amusement. But I could also tell that he was loaded. I wasn’t surprised, especially after the announcement this afternoon. I would be, too.

  “So,” Patrick said, leaning heavily on Morgan, “y’all coming to Louie Louie’s with us?”

  “Dueling piano bar?” Morgan asked. “I’m in.”

  “Jules?” Austin asked.

  I gritted my teeth. Stupid fucking nickname. “We’re with Heidi and Em. We’ll have to ask them.”

  “They’re in!” Morgan said. “Heidi already promised to get me wasted.”

  “You’re getting wasted, and you didn’t call me?” Patrick asked, affronted.

  Austin was unusually quiet. He and Patrick usually went back and forth, as if they were brothers more than best friends. But he was letting Patrick take the lead on his usual instigating, antagonistic personality, hardly saying a word.

  I wondered what was going on up there. Is he pissed or resigned? Had he gotten over not being chosen for CFO? Or is he still in the running? Fuck, I didn’t know. And I couldn’t ask because asking would only cause an argument. Another one.

  “Cool,” Austin said. “We’ll see you there then.”

  “Let’s snag Mini Wright and our resident tatted up HR girl,” Patrick said while Morgan deflated at the choice nickname, “and have the Wright wifeys meet us there.”

  “We’ve barely seen anything yet,” I said.

  I was torn between wanting to look at all the exhibits and wanting to find out what had happened with Austin. Plus, Morgan obviously wanted to hang out with Patrick.

  “I’ll walk the exhibits with you if y’all want to head to the bar early,” Austin offered.

  Patrick’s head turned so fast that I thought he might have pinched a nerve. “You’re skipping the bar?”

  “I’m meeting you there later,” he corrected. He held up his beer. “It’s not like this whole place isn’t open container.”

  Patrick held his hands up. “All right, all right. We’ll save a table. Get the wifeys and meet us there. You up for that, Mor?”

  She nodded vigorously. “I want to be thoroughly trashed by the time they meet up with us.”

  “Challenge accepted,” Patrick said.

  Austin punched him in the arm. “Hands off my sister.”

  But Patrick looked back at him like he was totally insane. As if he had never thought of Morgan as anything other than his own sister. In that moment, I felt a bad for her. The girl was on top of the world, and her crush didn’t even know that she wanted to be on top of him instead.

  “Dude,” was all Patrick said before walking away with Morgan.

  “Dear God, he is oblivious,” I muttered.

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Oh my God, did we just have a conversation without arguing?”

  “You look fucking hot,” he said in response.

  I rolled my eyes. Well, that was close. “You’re a pig.”

  “Really? Because I think I just got you more time to look at all the art you’re dying to see. Otherwise, you would have been dragged away to see drunks singing Bon Jovi and Journey at t
he tops of their lungs. A simple thank you would suffice.”

  I bit my lip to keep from snapping that he hadn’t done me a favor. Everything Austin did was self-motivated. I just didn’t know what his motivation was here.

  “Fine,” I settled for instead.

  “Fine,” he said, nudging me toward another exhibit.

  “Let me tell Heidi and Emery first.”

  I jogged over to the landscape exhibit and informed them as to what was going on. They did another one of their all-knowing looks and then told me to have a good time. It was not a date. It wasn’t. No matter what their sly grins said.

  “This one is my favorite,” Austin admitted.

  “This one has been here before?”

  He shrugged. “Once or twice.”

  I narrowed my eyes in his direction, wondering how this was going to be a trick, but still, I followed him anyway. It might be stupid. I still hadn’t figured out what the fuck he wanted from all of this. But my feet carried me up the few steps and into the next building.

  But what I saw on the inside stopped me in my tracks.

  This is Austin’s favorite? This is the one he wants to show me?

  Did I even know him at all?

  On all the walls in perfect little picture frames were children’s artwork. Unicorns and robots and horses and rainbows and a Technicolor burst of color from every frame. Under each piece of artwork was the child’s first name and age.

  Katherine, seven.

  Jimmy, twelve.

  Aiden, four.

  But what really got me, after I passed the first wall in awe of all the little boys and girls who had created something important to them, was the sign proclaiming where the art had come from. Not an elementary school, as I had expected.

  “They’re foster kids?” I whispered, my eyes glazing over, as I turned to face Austin.

  He nodded. “They’re supposed to draw something that inspires them. I hate that there are so many kids in Lubbock without a forever home, but I’m glad we have programs like this that help kids in need by getting donations from the local community.”

  He dropped a few bills into the donation box at the front of the room and then continued to look at every single picture with perfect care.

  This man. This man. My argumentative, drunken, narcissistic asshole. The one who caused me so much pain and anger and lust. The person who I’d thought I had completely figured out. He was the one who had just confided in me about this.

  My heart melted.

  Just a sliver, for him.

  Nine

  Austin

  This was not how I’d thought the night would go.

  Not at all.

  I’d thought I’d be waist-deep in booze before the sun officially set, so I could happily forget the last week of my life. No matter that it was apparently the whole problem anyway.

  And then there was Jules.

  Standing there in tiny little cutoffs, her pale and perfect thighs revealed in all their fucking glory. Her All Time Low tank top straining at her chest and showing a slice of her stomach. She’d slid her red hair off to one shoulder. Her nose ring complemented her studded ears…and there were tattoos for days. There was nothing fucking sexier than a woman with ink. And I wanted nothing more than to trace every line on her curvy body.

  But I knew that I probably shouldn’t want her.

  I’d fucked up my first chance. We’d both fucked up.

  Still, I was sitting next to her at Louie Louie’s, listening to the dueling pianos battle and trying not to stare at her. I wasn’t successful.

  “What?” Julia asked, catching me for the third time since we’d sat down with our beers.

  A girl who liked beer. Fuck me.

  “Just you.”

  “Me?”

  I shrugged noncommittally. Yeah, she looked fucking hot. She had to fucking know it. She might think I’d been a pig earlier, but it was the truth.

  “Can you two make out already or something?” Patrick joked, nudging Morgan. “Right?”

  Morgan slipped forward. Her long dark hair curtained the front of her face, and she giggled. Oh, she was fucked up. “Yes. Make out. Everyone should make out.”

  Heidi put her hand on Morgan’s shoulder. “You all right?”

  “I’m amazing! Dream job, here I come!” she said, tipping backward and nearly falling off of her barstool.

  “How much did you get her to drink?” Emery asked.

  Patrick shrugged. “We did a couple of shots. She was fine before you got here.”

  “We did eight shots!” Morgan said. “I’m great at counting.”

  Julia snickered and then covered it with a cough.

  “CEO material right there,” I said with a shake of my head. It was hard not to be bitter even though I knew Morgan truly deserved the job…and this time, right now, to kick back and relax. She didn’t do it enough.

  “Oh my God!” Morgan screamed. “I love this song!”

  I widened my eyes as she jumped up and started singing, rather poorly, to Britney Spears’s…“Baby One More Time.” Heidi jumped up and started singing with her. And, eventually, she grabbed Emery and Morgan and pulled them out to the dance floor. Patrick realized pretty quickly that he was now alone with Julia and me. Then, he hightailed it out to the dance floor. Smooth.

  Julia snagged her beer and took a long drink. I didn’t take my eyes off of her.

  We were in a packed dark bar, alone at a table in the back. All of our friends had miraculously disappeared out onto the dance floor, acting like fools. I might be a bit drunk, but I wasn’t a fool. I wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass me by.

  “You want to go out with me?” I asked point-blank. No point in beating around the bush with her.

  She nearly spat out the beer at my question. “What?”

  “A date. You, me, together. I’ll pick you up. We’ll do normal human things instead of running into each other over and over on accident.”

  She went from confused to amused to angry in the seconds it took to finish my sentence. It was sexy as hell.

  “Are you out of your mind?” she asked with round eyes.

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Austin,” she groaned. “We tried this. We broke up. We’re awful together.”

  “Maybe things have changed.”

  She snorted. “They haven’t.”

  “Sometimes, I really don’t get you.”

  “Sometimes?” she asked with raised eyebrows. She leaned forward toward me and poked me in the chest. “I’m pretty sure you never got me. Ever! If you understood me at all, then we wouldn’t have gone through the shit we went through two years ago.”

  I eased into her personal space. Our faces were mere inches apart, and she didn’t back down as I met her gaze.

  “I do get you, Jules. I get you better than anyone you’ve ever met. I see you. I know you. And that’s why this didn’t work. You can blame me all you want, but the truth is that you won’t open up.”

  “I won’t open up?” Her voice was low and deadly. “You think that’s the reason? So, you’re blind and stupid.”

  “I think that you’d rather have someone safe in your back pocket than have someone who challenges you.”

  I ran a finger down her exposed arm. She shivered under my touch, but her eyes were still hard.

  “And you think that you’re a bright ray of sunshine? You’re completely open and honest? What happened Memorial Day weekend, Austin? Why didn’t you tell me about the CFO position? You had the opportunity, and you fucking choked. You might think that I can’t open up, but if that’s the truth, then you’re just as bad.”

  She huffed and jerked her arm back. But I remained immobile.

  Is it that obvious, what had happened? Of course, she had looked at me at the meeting this afternoon. She’d known something was up. I just hadn’t talked to anyone about it. After blowing up on Jensen, I’d wanted to get the fuck away from the whole thing.

  Now,
Julia was expectantly looking at me. Her eyes were searching, waiting to see if I’d explain…or if I was exactly like she’d said. I didn’t like to back down from a challenge.

  “The board didn’t approve me,” I finally admitted to someone other than my family. I hadn’t even told Patrick, but I was sure someone else had.

  “This fast?”

  I sighed. “Jensen put my name up for CFO when he moved Morgan up to his job. The board had some…concerns about my behavior.”

  “That shouldn’t be reason enough not to give you the job. You’re a Wright. Maybe they’ll change their minds.”

  I almost laughed. Oh, how I wish it were all that fucking simple.

  “No. Jensen accused me of being an alcoholic and said that I had to go to rehab before they’d even consider it.”

  Julia chewed on her bottom lip, and for the first time, she glanced away from me. I knew what she was thinking. She’d made it clear that she thought I drank too much. But it was all bullshit. An excuse layered over everything else. If I gave up drinking, they’d find some other reason not to pick me.

  “Maybe you should listen to him,” Julia said.

  Here it comes.

  I pushed my chair back and started for the door. Fuck, I really just wanted to get drunk and laid tonight. Not deal with this shit.

  I was outside and walking down the darkened alley toward Buddy Holly Avenue when Julia rushed up behind me.

  “Why the hell did you storm off?” she demanded. She had her hands covering her arms as the late-night cold bit into her.

  “Why the hell are you following me, Jules?” I snapped back at her.

  She glared in my direction, and something in me snapped. I grabbed her by her shoulders and slammed her back into the brick wall outside the bar. Her breathing was ragged, and her mouth parted slightly at my movements. My body was pressed up against her lower half, and I never let her shoulders go. I held on for dear life as I stared down at those perfect pink lips, and I kicked myself for not diving straight in.

  “You just up and left without explanation.”

  I leaned forward into her, got dangerously close. Everything in her awakened at the movement.

  “You don’t want to go out with me,” I said. “You don’t want to have anything to do with me. You abandoned me on the top of the canyon a week ago and said that all we did was argue. So, if you don’t want this, then leave me the fuck alone.”