“The landscape is more alive?” That series was decent, but it wasn’t anything to write home about. They were nice to look at, but they didn’t say enough. Didn’t grab you by the throat and force you to look at something you might have otherwise ignored.

“Not a landscape. The one of your caretaker. Where she’s growing vines. It’s epic, man. Truly epic. Hell, I might bid on it myself.”

I froze. “That’s not up for sale. I gave Lara landscapes.” I pushed back from the desk and stood, striding to the storage closet where I’d been keeping my paintings. I never looked at them again once I was finished. Why would I? I simply piled more pieces back there.

I searched through canvas after canvas. As I passed each one, flipping from one to the next, the set of my jaw got harder. None of my other landscapes were gone. Nothing where the subject was someone on the crew or an interesting face I’d seen in town. But I was missing at least four paintings of Shay. I let out a litany of curses and strode back to the laptop.

“What the hell is going on, Brody?”

I gripped the back of my desk chair, my knuckles bleaching white. “She took them. Paintings I told her she couldn’t have. I gave her landscapes in exchange for a year off my back. And she just went ahead and took whatever the hell she wanted.”

All amusement had fled Carson’s expression. “I’m not trying to be an asshole here, but that’s what she always does. She’s never had your back. Only hers.”

This was finally the last straw. All the times I’d excused Lara’s actions because of our history. All the times I’d just thought she was especially ferocious. But Carson was right. Lara only looked out for herself. It was never truly for me. And it stopped now. I’d been approached by dozens of other dealers and managers over the years, asking to represent me. But I’d always felt a loyalty to Lara. That ended today. “I have to go. I need to deal with this.”

“Heads-up, it’s already all over the art blogs.”

I ran a hand through my hair and tugged on the ends. That meant it might get some mainstream media play, as well. Ever since Josiah Mosely, people had become more intrigued with my art. And since there wasn’t a lot of my personal information floating around, they’d become fascinated with me, as well.

“Thanks for the warning.”

“Good luck. Let me know if I can do anything.”

“Will do.” I hit end and pulled my cell out of my desk drawer. I’d taken to just leaving it in the house because it only worked when it was connected to the internet anyway. I hit Lara’s contact.