Heartbreaker (Unbreakable #1)(63)

“Yep. My calls to the IRS were a joke. The money for the sales of my art was sitting in accounts the government had frozen. They don’t care about contracts, or receipts of sale, or starving artists. All they care about is the money. And the money in those accounts? Pennies on the dollar for what the bitch owed on back taxes.”

“Damn, Kiki. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. What I get for being so trusting.”

“Wasn’t it a reputable gallery?”

“Yep. Been there for years. The same years she’d been falsifying her taxes. She owes them almost seventeen million.”

“Fuck me.”

“Exactly.” She glared at the envelope. “But you know the worst part? I have eight other sculptures sitting in that gallery unsold. Big pieces that would fetch a lot of money. And I can’t touch them.”

I frowned. “Why not?”

“Because the IRS didn’t just freeze her accounts. They froze her physical assets, the gallery.”

“But those sculptures aren’t hers, they’re yours.”

She heaved me a weary look. “Tell that to the IRS.”

“Wait…doesn’t your landlord live in the house up front, the one you housesit for?”

“Not exactly housesit, more like watch over. But yeah.” She shrugged, poking a fork at the half-pancake left on her plate. “She doesn’t call the shots. The property management company and her accountants do. They’ve already given me two extensions at her request. I’ve blown past all my deposits and been living here rent-free for two months. They can’t do any more for me without all the back rents paid up and then some.”

“Why not ask your family for help? Surely they’d lend you some money.”

“No.” She gave a hard headshake. “I don’t want help. I want to do this on my own.”

“Okay. So what’s your plan?”

She slumped down to the table, folding her arms under her chin. After a long pause, she glanced up at me. “Denial?”

I stared at her for several long seconds. Her eyes had lost their fire. She wasn’t being sarcastic, she’d just run out of steam. And hope.

She might not want help from her family, but she would get it from me. No way would I let her lose everything she’d worked for. All her dreams had been poured into her warehouse.

I pulled her up from the table, and her towel slowly unraveled, then fell away, but neither of us grabbed it. I folded my arms around her, pulling her tight against me.

On a slow sigh, she nestled into my hold. Bared. Trusting.

I pressed a kiss to the top of her ear. “We’re gonna come up with a better plan.”





Kiki…

By the following night, Darren hadn’t come up with a plan. Neither had I. Because you can’t plan your way out of a mess you had no control over.

None of it was fair. But that was life.

I turned out of my neighborhood, heading toward the address Darren had given me, thinking about my situation and what he’d suggested. I’d already contemplated asking my family for help. My brother and sisters would lend me money in a heartbeat. My parents too.

Any of them would give me a roof over my head. And in another eight days, it may come to that.

But going to them meant admitting failure out loud—to a family who always succeeded in anything they’d tried. And I was the artistic one. Although they’d never done anything to discourage my passion, I still felt a heavier burden compared to them to prove my worth.

Besides, those ideas were nothing but temporary Band-Aids to my greater ailment.

Stuck in a place of anger and frustration—in my denial—I hadn’t formed any kind of back-up plan. No safety net.

For some idiotic reason I kept thinking, one more phone call to the IRS. Or maybe after ninety days, they’d open the gallery and release my sculptures. Maybe they’d listen to reason.

But why would they? I hadn’t listened to my own self with how ridiculous that sounded. Or admitted to myself what dire straits I was actually in.

A part of me had faith that it would all work out. Even though I had no reason to believe it.

“Is that what you are, Darren?” I whispered into my car as I followed a curve, then turned into the parking lot in front of a posh resort. “Are you my miracle worker?”

He had been so far. He’d turned out to be more than I’d ever expected.

Which scared the hell out of me. Too much faith in someone left too much room for disappointment.

I blew out a slow breath, calming my nerves. Then I opened the heavy lobby door, whispering. “It will all be okay.”

The optimistic mantra had been said so often, it soothed me—even if it didn’t solve anything.

My high heels sunk into a plush Oriental rug, but I didn’t make it to the polished marble on the far side of it before Logan came rushing in from the side.

“You made it!” She gave me a fierce hug.

I blinked, surprised. “I didn’t know you were going to be here.”

An iridescent-green dragonfly barrette clipped her pink streak above her ear and she wore a blue paisley peasant-style dress, making her seem much younger and more feminine than her usual jeans and cap.

She rolled her eyes. “D apparently keeps everything about me secret.”