“Please, tell me more about your Texas,” Arash said. “And then your art.”

Nicole knew those two topics would set Alicia off chattering, so she just listened to her talk while she ate. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Saad taking quick glances in her direction. Thirty minutes into the meal, Nicole was relieved to hear the copter returning to the helipad. As it drew near, two of the stewards ran over with a large, clear acrylic sheet the size of a wall.

“I love to see it land,” Saad said while peeling a pre-cut banana segment. “This allows me to watch it without the rotor wash scattering fruit and croissants across the upper deck.”

Nicole kept her eyes on the two young men, wondering what life journey had led them to a mega yacht holding an oversized windbreak for a billionaire.

Once the helicopter had set down, she said, “Well, I guess our ride is here.”

But Saad held out his hands. “Wait. We still haven’t talked business.”

Alicia spoke up. “We just thought—”

“I was a fool for what I did last night. But I would be an idiot if I let you leave here today without purchasing your artwork.”

Alicia glanced at Nicole, who nodded.

“Okay. What do you have in mind?”

“I want the Marilyn biting the Oakleys. And I would like the Latin fruit bowl.”

Alicia looked excited. “We have those prints in inventory. Oakley Marilyn is $500,000, and Fruit Bowl is $350,000.”

As the sales had mounted, Nir had urged Alicia and Nicole to gradually increase the prices to see what the market would bear. This was the highest Alicia had ever gone.

Saad smiled. “I’m afraid you don’t understand. I don’t want prints. I want your originals. How would it look if I showed off your work to someone in my salon, then had to admit they were just reprints. Saad Salim does not do reprints.”

Alicia looked stunned. “The originals are not for sale.”

“Oh, come on. Everything is for sale. Tell me how much you want.”

Nicole jumped in. “You heard her. They’re not for sale. Just because you’re rich doesn’t mean you can buy anything you want.”

Saad looked at Nicole and said, “Two million dollars for the pair.”

“They’re not for sale,” Nicole growled.

“Five million.”

“You can stuff your five million in your little mini-submarine,” Alicia said.

“Seven million.”

Nicole couldn’t imagine what point this man was trying to make with this whole staring-at-her-while-bidding-with-Alicia thing. Was he trying to buy the paintings—or her?

“They’re not for sale,” she said.

“Ten million dollars.”

“Sold!”

Nicole whipped her head toward Alicia, only to see her standing and reaching across the table to seal the deal with a handshake.

“What?” cried Nicole.

As Alicia and Saad shook hands, the artist said, “But you pay for the shipping.”