“Thanks, Lily, I’m stylish on my own,” Joey said, bristling, that tiny barb burrowing into her skin. She and Lily were close. Close-ish. As close as you could be, really, to a sibling sixteen years your junior. But sometimes Joey felt like they were competing for their parents’ attention and love and like Lily came out ahead, especially since Joey had left law, her high-flying career of which her father had been uber-proud. Maybe all siblings experienced it, a standard jostle for their fair-share slice of the pie. Or maybe Joey was a bit jealous of her little sister’s wild success, like everyone presumed.

Joey set down her phone. Evil eyes? It was like Lily had a spy camera on her. Twenty thousand dollars? Vogue? Holy shit. But how was she supposed to paint some epic wall with her wedding in eleven days and Leo the Minefield now traipsing around town?

She needed to tell Grant. That was the critical thing. She tried to rouse the will, to box herself into the task by calling him. He’d be out of surgery by now, eating a Tupperware of egg salad with that Paleo mayonnaise he bought in bulk. He’d be spent, but his voice would be light at the sound of hers.

She should have told Grant about meeting Leo before she went to the beach. That was the part she was dreading. She was going to have to explain why she’d kept it secret when she’d had plenty of opportunities to share, to give him time to weigh in. And then of course there was another thing, Leo’s confession of love that Joey was certain he didn’t mean. He didn’t even know her now, besides. He knew a version of Joey that was long gone. Still, she was going to have to tell Grant about the love confession too.

She couldn’t do it. She just couldn’t call him now. Not after the day she’d had.

She considered the canvas again. The eyes flashing at her were intricate. Big. Larger than his real ones. Leo eyes with evil eye flair. Just the eyes had taken her weeks. The lids. The shadows. The crinkles. There was the outline of a face. Some lines of hair. The beginnings of an arm. The curve of a back. A smudge by an eye.

Joey smiled at that smudge. She remembered it well.