Page 18 of Live Love Steal (Destroyers MC: Skilletsville PA #2)

The pitch - Isobel

N oah looked nothing like the picture Sketch had as his phone’s screen-saver. The rambunctious, happy kid was pale and thin. I’m sure part of that was just being sick, but another part was evident in the way he huddled in on himself. Until he saw his father, that is.

Joy is an amazing thing. He went from almost hospital paper sheet white to rosy pink. His wan expression brightened.

So did Sketch’s . Although , the shadows in his eyes remained as he picked Noah up, set him on his lap, and held him close. Then there was a pause. It was as if the bubble burst, and everyone was trying to figure out what caused it. Sharon targeted me as the cause.

“ Who are you ?”

The acidic tone implied a lot. Not to mention, I was wearing a sweatshirt declaring me property of a notorious motorcycle club.

I wore no makeup and had none of my usual date or work clothing armor to make me feel successful, so her angry words sent my insides into a flutter of panic.

But I rallied. “ Isobel , nice to meet you.” I held out a hand, opting for a frontal approach.

Her eyes narrowed on it and the sweatshirt I wore. Then she turned on Sketch . “ Why are you bringing one of the club whores here? You could have just left her on the mattress.”

Oof . I shook my head at Sketch , who’d opened his mouth to defend me. I went as far as raising my arm and pointing at my tattoo. That was my way to silently remind him he was iron, too.

Noah noticed. His sunken eyes were kind of sad like Sketch’s .

In that, they totally looked alike. And that was one of those injustices that made my back stiffen and my jaw tense.

They both deserved a lot more than what they’d gotten in life.

Sketch was smart, in the street-wise sense, and that intelligence he had was obviously passed down because Noah picked up on the vibes of the room and stayed silent. But he studied me.

Which became an anomaly for Sharon to squash. I wouldn’t get that kind of scrutiny if this were a common thing. “ I can wait in the common area,” I said to Sketch , cutting Sharon right out of the conversation exactly as she had.

But that just made her angrier. She aimed that at Sketch . “ Is she why you didn’t answer any of my calls? You were with her ?”

As far as I knew, he’d answered all of her calls until the end. I’d been there when he did.

Sketch fired back at her. “ Yeah . That’s where I was, and everything you think might happen, happened, and a few things you’d never guess would happen, happened, too.

All afternoon, into the evening, and we were going to keep it going right up until dawn.

” His tone was sharp, sarcastic, but also firm.

I opened my mouth to course-correct, but then remembered we had to stick with our alibis.

Yet , this woman was going to use that to take his son away.

I shook my head. If she knew everything that happened, he’d lose his son for sure.

He’d go to prison for murder. I’d go, too, because accessory to murder and covering up a murder are also crimes.

And no matter what I did or said, none of it would make a difference now.

I sat down in a chair near the curtained wall and pulled out my laptop to completely ignore the bitching because it was fruitless.

I had a job to do tomorrow morning. If I intended to keep it, I needed to nail this presentation.

“ What are you doing?” Sharon turned her vitriol on me.

“ Going over my presentation,” I said calmly, even though I had an urge to bash her over the head with the device. Some of that imagined violence was because I wanted her to shut up, some of it was because if I did smash my laptop over her head, I wouldn’t have to deal with my boss anymore.

The thought of never having to deal with Jamie again was freeing.

“ Presentation ? For what?”

Sharon didn’t really want to know; she was just fishing for more ammunition to use against me.

I smiled. It was the same kind of one I plastered on my face when Jamie fucked up a pitch because he didn’t rehearse, and I had to gracefully step in to save the account despite being pissed as hell. “ For a five-million-dollar ad account our agency wants to land. I’m leading the pitch tomorrow.”

Noah piped up. “ You work for an ad agency?”

The line of Sketch’s mouth went up on one end. He saw what I was doing. By naming the value of the account, I’d effectively neutered Sharon’s theory that I was one of the club girls.

“ Yes , I used to be one of the creative team leads, but branched into the marketing division because…” Because the salary was much better.

The work wasn’t as fun as before, but it was a challenge.

And backing down from a challenge wasn’t me.

I’d conquer this career and soar. Or so I hoped, as long as I could avoid getting sabotaged by my Jamie .

“ Because there is more growth potential in that field.”

God , that was a sell-out answer. I winced internally, but kept my presentation face on. No one needed to know my insecurities.

“ Dad is an artist. I’m going to be just like him when I grow up.” He looked up at Sketch and practically glowed. The weariness in Sketch’s face eased.

“ You’re going to be better than I am.” He kissed his hair.

“ There’s no money in art,” Sharon interjected, squishing her child’s dreams with her negativity. I wanted to throttle her. Sketch’s face turned darker as he held in his emotions.

Neither of he or Noah deserved that barb.

“ I’ve seen your Dad’s work.” It struck me, I’d seen Noah’s work too.

Sketch kept it displayed in his art room.

I’d discovered that while snooping around and building up the nerve to strip naked this afternoon.

“ And yours, too. It’s really good. Your dad is right. And as far as money goes?—”

“ You had her at the house ?”

Whoops . Sharon didn’t need to know that. The evil core of me wanted to crow, “ I was there for multiple hours straight, and in his bed for at least three of those hours!” But I kept my mouth shut, because, one, Noah didn’t need to know any of that, and two, bragging about having sex wasn’t me.

Sketch ignored her question and stroked his son’s head, which moved him closer to his chest. It was obvious he loved his son. “ What did the doctor say?”

“ I don’t know,” Sharon fired off, still sending me an evil glare.

“ Weren’t you paying attention?”

Whether Sketch did that to shift her focus off me, or if he wasn’t thinking about what he said, he’d made a terrible error.

Because she turned all of her hate on him.

“ If you weren’t playing house with this tramp, maybe you’d have been here and know for yourself.

I told you he was sick. You never make time for him. ”

“ I —”

She cut him off, “ It’s always me doing all the work. Cleaning up puke, helping him with homework, so he doesn’t end up at a dead-end job or become a criminal like you!”

Holy crap. I wondered for a moment how well she knew Sketch . Probably better than I did, seeing as they used to be married. Even so, low blow.

“ If you really cared about him, you’d quit that club, get a real job, and stop pretending you’re fifteen all the time.”

Sketch stood up and tucked Noah back under a blanket the hospital provided.

“ That club pays for his insurance and the copays and?—”

“ They’re trouble . You’re going to get arrested one of these days.”

He’d almost gotten arrested tonight with me.

He definitely didn’t need to hear her monologue about it.

I put the laptop back in the bag. “ That’s enough!

Your son is sick, and you’re making it out to be David’s fault.

If you did as much fucking work taking care of your son as you claim, he’d be healthy right now, wouldn’t he? ”

“ Shut up, bitch! This isn’t about you. Take your little acting role somewhere else and leave my family alone!”

As an outsider, I saw what was happening here.

Sharon was a selfish narcissist, just like my boss.

He liked being the center of attention, despite being the dumbest person in the room.

And when he wasn’t the star of the show, he lashed out at whoever outshone him or corrected him.

I was sick of him and anyone like him making others miserable.

And the best way to make a narcissist miserable was to alienate them.

Ghost them… gray zone them… give them nothing, while keeping a strict ledger of inconsistencies so they didn’t bury you for it.

It wasn’t a guaranteed tactic, but one I’d done my damndest to incorporate at work.

I’d forgotten that and stuck my foot in it.

Sketch’s voice was very quiet as he addressed Sharon , “ You and me, outside. Iz , stay.”

Fine .

I got my laptop back out and typed up a summary for the owner of the company, just in case tomorrow went sideways. I’d forgotten to do that earlier. I attached my brief, the campaign options, and the one-sheet summary of the pitch.

“ Can I see what you’re doing?” Noah asked.

His mother and father’s voices weren’t raised, but there was a tense staccato embedded into the tones. Noah looked worried. And he was smart enough to want a distraction.

“ Of course.” I moved to the chair Sharon had sat in and turned my laptop around so he could see the PDF file with the campaign content.

I explained each chart and the marketing concepts, getting a chance to drill down into the details I’d collected for the company. I needed the refresher before tomorrow.

Noah was more interested in how the creative team came up with the images. I showed him a few early mock-ups, and then I asked if he wanted to try to come up with a concept.

As the voices got louder outside, we brainstormed an idea under his direction.

Once he was satisfied with the look, he asked, “ Can you really make money at art?”

That deserved an honest answer. Because the spark was there and I didn’t want to snuff it out like Sharon had.

“ Yes , but sometimes, no. The trick is finding niches where you can do what you love art-wise and be flexible about what else you can do. There’s no rule that you can’t work at a job and do art on the side, or that you can’t find ways to bring art into your job.

Like this.” I pulled up the earliest mockup I sketched for the campaign.

“ See , I used to do things like this before I took the new position. And because of that, it was easy for me to explain my vision to the person actually doing the art. That made it possible to get at least two different ideas worked up during the short time span my boss wanted. Now the client gets to see a broader sample of what we can do, stylistically.”

The one I’d pulled up was edgy and bright, playing on optimism and in that making the eventual viewer think it will be a brighter future.

I explained that to Noah , then showed him the other one.

“ This one is a standard play on opposite personalities, but it is a little more formal in layout, so it aligns with the nature of their business. Which one do you like?”

“ I like the bright one.”

He picked mine.

“ Why ?”

“ It makes me happy.”

“ And that’s what the company could want the customer to be. If they can be happy when they think of our client, they’ll want to spend money with them, and that will mean our ad helped that happen.”

“ That’s cool.”

“ Art is all about emotion. Exceptional art shows emotion without telling you what you’re supposed to feel.

And the more complex the emotion, the more complex the art becomes, because it tries to show you everything all at once, but in the way that it all felt inside for the artist when they created the work. ”

“ Dad’s art is that way.”

“ Oh yes, your dad’s is definitely the exceptional kind.” It bled emotion.

“ Some of it’s angry.”

“ Unfortunately , true. And that’s okay. Your dad hasn’t had an easy life, and he’s able to put that experience into what he does, but it doesn’t define everything he is.”

Noah was quiet as he thought about that. The hallway was quiet, too. I wondered whether they’d reached an impasse or an agreement, or… gotten both of their asses arrested.

“ Your picture isn’t angry,” Noah said.

My picture? I stared at the screen. It was on the second pitch. Then it clicked. Noah meant the mural in Sketch’s bedroom. Since there was no door, Noah had to have seen it at least once or twice. “ That isn’t me.”

“ It looks like you.”

I wondered if that was what had sparked Sharon’s jealousy. The mural he’d painted didn’t look a thing like her. But Noah had a point; it did look like me on a superficial level.

“ But I hadn’t met your dad yet. He painted that a long time before we met.” Was that only this morning? It seemed a lot longer ago.

“ I think he dreamed of you. And now that he’s met you, his life will change.”

I hoped that change wasn’t for the worse.

The curtain moved. Sketch came in, shoulders slumped, and his attention elsewhere. “ Go home, Iz .”

“ Won’t you need a ride?”

“ I’ll call one of the specks.” His tone was resigned, almost defeated. Sharon had kicked his proverbial puppy hard.

“ But —”

He shot me a look that clearly meant I was out of line. “ Go home.”

“ Where’s Sharon ?” She hadn’t come back with him.

“ Just … go.”

A million questions hung on my lips. Are you going to be okay?

Will you be ready for court in the morning?

Who is going to take care of Noah while you’re there?

And more urgently, I wanted to blurt out something really stupid.

It was way too soon to feel anything like that, let alone say it.

But my heart was bleeding for him. I wanted to step in and catch him so his life wouldn’t be difficult anymore.

I wanted to be his and Noah’s cheerleader, so they both could realize their potential.

And I didn’t want to abandon him. Not when things were so awful. My bad day had bled into his, making it his bad day. It was my fault his world had gone to shit. If I could stay and make it a little easier, I’d …

“ You have work in the morning. The pitch… go.”

That was an order.

Adulting sucked.

I packed up my computer and told Noah goodbye. Then I picked up Sketch’s arm. I drew a small set of lines and a circle on it. It matched the lines on my wrist. “ Now you’re iron… good luck in court tomorrow—today.”