When Irish Eyes are Smiling – chapter one Author: Elsa Rose Bryant When Irish eyes are smiling Sure it's like a morning spring. In the lilt of Irish laughter, You can hear the angels sing. When Irish hearts are happy, All the world seems bright and gay. And when Irish eyes are smiling, Sure, they steal your heart away. At eighteen, Justin Taylor was out and proud. He graduated top in his class despite the three-week bout of pneumonia that almost killed him. His sleep was till haunted by anguished green eyes flecked with gold, but he’d come to accept those dreams as almost comforting, rather than scary. Still a virgin, for a number of reasons. The main one being that he’d promised his mother he’d be careful and for the moment, being careful ruled over being horny, though many days it was a close call. Justin constantly felt he had the world by the tail. He didn’t have money worries, thanks to a trust fund that had kicked in on his birthday. He’d been accepted at PIFA, one of 200 applicants and his mother had finally agreed to let him move out of the house and get his own place. He’d convinced her that dorm rooms at the University wouldn’t work because he needed studio space that included proper air cleaning equipment. His lungs were, while not damaged, more susceptible to infection since his last stay in the hospital. Now, if he could only convince the owner of the Rosewood Building to allow him to rent space for both an apartment and a studio. There was something about the building that called to him. He was pretty sure that the night he’d been taken to the hospital, he’d been in the building. Though he couldn’t find anyone who would corroborate that fact. He’d spent a couple of afternoons this summer prying at the wood that boarded up various windows and doors in the alley to no avail. Though he could have ripped them off and broken in, somehow that just didn’t seem right. He’d almost slipped between the bars of what had to be an underground parking space, but his head just wouldn’t make it through without ripping off his ears or his nose. The front door was always locked no matter when he tried it and no one ever answered the buzzer no matter how often he rang it. With every passing day, access to the Rosewood Building became more and more important to him. A Holy Grail of sorts, a quest for the prince to rescue the princess trapped in the tower. Or in his case, he was hoping for a prince in the tower. Because someone definitely lived there. A true stalker doesn’t let the small problem of night skies keep him from his prey. And Justin had spent many summer nights across the street from the Rosewood Building sitting in closed doorways and staring up at the sixth and seventh floors watching the lights that were on and the shadows that passed by the windows. To say he was obsessed wouldn’t have been an understatement. “Hey Jus.” The words were a whispered shout. “What?” Justin answered, annoyed that Michael had found him once again watching the building across the street. “Ma said to get you and bring you to the diner. She made some kind of meat loaf special for dinner and there were left overs.” Michael peered into the doorways until he located Justin. They weren’t actually friends. There was a twelve-year age difference but their mothers were PFLAG moms and his mother insisted he look after the blond. “I’m not hungry.” Justin lied. He was always hungry for anything Debbie made. “There’s still enough light left to finish this sketch.” “Yeah, if you’re a cat.” Michael huffed. “You’ve drawn that building like a million times. It’ll still be here tomorrow.” “You know Michael, you really don’t have to baby sit me. I am eighteen and do know how to walk and chew gum at the same time, despite what our mothers might think.” Michael laughed as he threw his arm around Justin. “The thing is kid, Ma has a few rules she hates to break. In fact, she’s only broken this one once and trust me, she never lets me forget it.” Reluctantly, Justin started to walk toward the diner. “Okay, what’s the rule now. Debbie has like a million rules.” “She never lets one of her boys moon over something. She wants them all to know they’re loved and wanted.” “That’s a stupid rule. I know I’m loved and wanted. I guess I know.” Justin shrugged. “I mean my mother loves me. Molly loves me.” “And Ma loves you.” “What about you Mikey, do you love me?” Justin said in a singsong voice. “Like a brother, kid.” Michael laughed. “Like an annoying little brother. “When I was about fourteen, I met a kid a few months younger, but he looked older. He came from a rotten home. I mean I thought I had it tough, no father and a rather outspoken mother. But at least she didn’t beat the crap out of me. And she always supported me no matter what. Brian, that was his name, his father was a drunk, he used to beat him and his mother didn’t do anything about it. In fact, she used to tell him he was worthless and that he’d never amount to anything.” “Holy crap, that really sucks.” Justin was horrified. His father was a miserable son of a bitch, but at least it was a relatively recent aberration. He hadn’t had to live with it all his life. “What happened to him?” “We don’t know. He used to come around and then one day he didn’t.” Michael shrugged. “We never noticed at first. I mean it was summer, everyone has vacations, I guess we just didn’t notice he was gone. Ma has never forgiven herself for that. A kid about his age turned up dead. It was almost school time, but he couldn’t be identified. When Brian didn’t start school that September, we figured maybe he was the dead kid. They found him on Liberty Avenue in a shallow grave at the back of the park.” “Fuck, that’s terrible. Are you sure it was Brian?” “No, not really. I mean Ma is sure, but they wouldn’t let either of us see the body. I guess it was too badly decomposed.” “Did they do DNA testing with his parents?” “Geeze kid, how would I know? You do realize this was like fifteen years ago, don’t you? It wasn’t some episode of CSI Pittsburgh.” Michael snorted and then said. “Your mom told mine you were looking to get your own place.” “I am.” Justin sighed. He wished his mother could keep her mouth shut once in awhile. “Why, I mean your mom’s place is great. There’s tons of room.” “I could say the same thing to you. Why aren’t you living with Deb instead of Emmett?” “You have to ask?” Michael grinned. “Your mom isn’t as bad as mine though.” “A close second.” Justin looked depressed. “I need to be out on my own. I want to…” he looked around as if maybe his mother was lurking. “I want to lose my virginity.” “Don’t be in such a hurry to do that.” Michael said with feeling. “It’ll happen when you’re ready. It’s better that way. Find yourself someone with experience; it’s always best that way your first time.” “You volunteering?” Justin asked. “Fuck no.” Michael looked horrified. “That would be gross; you’re like my little brother.” “Good, cause that’s what I was thinking.” Justin laughed. “Hey, I did an amazing sketch tonight of the building.” “Yeah, yeah.” Michael wasn’t interested. “I put an offer in on the comic book store. I’m going to need a mortgage. I have a mortgage broker looking for me.” “Cool.” Justin walked backward to better talk to Michael. “What does a mortgage broker do?” “Gets me the money for the comic book store I hope.” Michael grinned. “Sometimes from banks, sometimes from private investors.” “Did Deb use a mortgage broker on the house?” Justin asked. “I mean she was pretty excited about it a couple of years ago. Something about the mortgage.” “You were too young to pay enough attention. It was kind of weird. She was behind in the payments, you know with Uncle Vic and stuff. I was living there, but the Big Q isn’t known for its big payroll. And one day this guy came and handed her the deed and the paid up mortgage papers. Said it was from some contest she entered. You know Ma, she’s always entering stuff. They took a few pictures for the paper and that was it. She owns the house free and clear.” “How come we didn’t see it in the paper?” Justin was suspicious of something too good to be true. “I don’t know. I mean you were only, what, sixteen. I don’t read the paper. We must have missed it.” He shrugged. “Ma didn’t want too big a deal made. She was kind of embarrassed that the house almost went into foreclosure.” “Okay, I won’t say anything.” Justin walked along in silence before declaring. “I’m going to find the owner of the building.” Michael didn’t need to ask what building. Justin’s obsession was well known to him. “I don’t know what you think that’s going accomplish.” “I’m going to ask him if I can rent an apartment and maybe some studio space.” “Like that’s going to happen.” Michael huffed a laugh. “No one has ever been able to get the guy to rent the place. We tried a year or so for GLBC; we wanted to do a fundraiser but the guy had his lawyers refuse. There’s this super ballroom on the fourth floor. There are even some pictures of it in the library. There are pictures of the whole building’s interior in some book a guy did in the sixties. I remember going there once with Brian before he was killed. He loved the library. He said there were a million worlds inside just waiting to be revealed.” “There are.” Justin looked at the Pittsburgh skyline and then back toward the building he’d left. He couldn’t see it, but he knew it was there. Maybe the person who lived at the top was watching him now. “Did you see the lights at the top of the Rosewood Building?” He asked Michael. “Nope.” Michael continued to walk. “Didn’t see them and don’t care. Now hurry up. I want to go out tonight and I have to deliver you to Ma.” Justin was hungry though he hated to admit it to Michael. So he really hadn’t minded being interrupted with his sketching of the Rosewood Building. Inside the diner it was bright and cheerful. Debbie grinned and waved him over to the end stool at the counter. “Sit down Sunshine and take a load off. I have a nice hot dinner for you tonight. Your mom should be home tomorrow. I don’t want her to think I didn’t feed you.” “Hey Deb, sorry you had to send Mikey for me.” Justin sat down on his regular stool at the counter. “I was sketching the Rosewood Building.” “What a surprise.” She laughed. “Of course you were. Was there any change?” she placed his dinner on the counter. “Nope.” He grinned. “But the lights were on at the top again. I think I saw a shadow walking past the window.” “Luckily you aren’t Spiderman, or you’d be in jail for peeping.” Michael laughed. “Of course if you were Spiderman, that would be cool.” “If I was Spiderman, you’d never know it.” Justin giggled. “Unless you were my girlfriend.” “I don’t think a gay Spiderman would work, he’s not buff enough.” Michael picked up a napkin, grabbed his mother’s pen and sketched roughly. He needs to look like this.” “Like a stick man on steroids?” Justin smirked. He pulled out a small sketchbook and one of his charcoal pencils. “Or maybe more like this.” In a few well-placed strokes, the image of a super hero appeared. “That guy doesn’t have a lot of muscle.” Michael critiqued. “Sure he does, he isn’t all bulked up on top like Batman, but he’s well developed all over.” Justin sighed and looked out the window of the diner. “He’s called Rage. I like to think of him as the ideal gay superhero, righting wrongs for all of Gayopolis.” “You are truly delusional.” Michael laughed “No one is going to buy a comic book with a gay superhero. And especially not one who looks like this guy. He isn’t muscled enough.” “Just because you like guys who are built like an ice cream cone, doesn’t mean I do. I like my guys to be more evenly proportioned.” “You don’t even date. How in hell do you know what you like?” Michael was always teasing Justin about his refusal to date. “It’s not like I need to try them out to find one who fits.” Justin glared at his pseudo older brother. “That’s for suckers. I know what I want and I won’t settle for less. All I’ll need to do is see him once.” And Justin remembered green eyes flecked with gold, soft auburn hair falling over one eye and lips kissed with pomegranate. It was a dream, though there were times he wasn’t so sure. All he knew was the man he wanted looked just like the one who had appeared when he was filled with fever. That was who Rage was based on, though Justin hadn’t seen the man clearly. He just filled in the blanks with what he thought he would look like. “Michael will drop you off at home, Sunshine. Your mother doesn’t want you wandering the streets.” Debbie had appeared, removing Justin’s empty plate. “Sorry Ma, no can do. I have to meet someone in about five minutes.” Michael stood up, reached over the counter to give his mother a quick kiss. “Don’t talk to strangers, kid.” He said, clapping Justin on the shoulder. She turned to Michael. “Mr. Cyris called about your mortgage application. You’re to call him in the morning.” Michael waved that he’d heard her before heading outside. “It’s okay Deb. I was going home now anyway. I have a project I have to finish. It’s my last piece for PIFA. Did you know I’ve been accepted there?” he beamed. “And my dad is paying the tuition. He was really pissed but I guess Mom’s lawyer managed to make him see the light.” “Of course I know. Half of Liberty Avenue knows.” She grinned. “I expect to see something on these walls beside the Rosewood Building.” She nodded in the direction of the back walls of the diner. Various renditions of the building in several mediums hung there. Justin actually sold a steady number of the drawings for which he was glad. It gave him an excuse for making more. “You know mom made me promise not to give you nudes to put up there.” He smiled shyly down at the counter and then said. “I’m going to get my own place. When I’m out on my own, I can hang anything I want. I have some awesome pictures that’ll sell.” “Your mother didn’t say anything about you getting a place on your own.” Debbie looked concerned and sat down on the stool beside him. “There isn’t any trouble is there?” “No, nothing like that Deb. It’s just time I got out on my own. I’m going to be in University soon. I need to grow up.” “Don’t rush things kiddo, you’re only eighteen.” Debbie patted his hand. “I know you think you need to spread your wings and fly, but it’s not all sunshine and sweetness out in the big world honey. Stay at home and be a kid as long as you can.” Justin’s voice was sad. “I think I stopped being a kid the night my dad threw me out.” He shrugged. “Don’t worry about it Deb. I know I’m not going to be alone. I mean I have you and Michael and Mom and Molly. Just not living with me. It’s not like I’m going to be living too far away. I want to get an apartment in the Rosewood Building.” “Honey, there are no apartments there for rent unless there’s been a change I don’t know about.” “There will be. I know I can talk the owner into letting me rent from him. I can be pretty persuasive when I want to be.” Justin beamed and batted his lashes. “Could you refuse this face?” Debbie laughed. “Never. Good luck Sunshine. If it will help, I’ll talk to your mother. I hated it when Michael left, but it was the best thing for him. He’s grown up and become independent but he’s still close to me. I wonder if he would have been as close if I’d fought him on him moving out.” Justin just smiled. He knew Deb meant well, but he also knew his mother had her own ideas on where he should live and why. He’d grown up always somehow out of step with the rest of the boys in the country club environment that was his life. His father constantly nagging him to join this club or that sport and his mother always agreeing to let him do the things he enjoyed doing. It meant for a childhood of constant argument accompanied by demeaning digs and slights from his father when he didn’t get his way. It didn’t help that he was plagued with allergies and had managed to catch every childhood illness that dared to wander into the expensive school he attended. His mother hovered, that was the word for it. She hovered, making sure he was dressed warmly, ate properly, slept when he should. She monitored his studies and his recreational activities, watching, always watching to make sure he was alive and well. It was wearing and he had to break away from the woman before he went insane or turned into one of those freaks you saw in movies. The ones unnaturally close to their mothers who lived with them until the woman died and then kept her mummified body in a back bedroom. No wonder his younger sister resented him. It had been all about Justin and never about the small redheaded girl who lived in the room next to him. Maybe once he moved on, his mother would devote some time to Molly. Justin knew the girl craved their mother’s attention. Maybe she’d finally get it. He stood up and gathered his things. “I’ll see you later Deb. Thanks for feeding me.” “Do you have bus money?” Debbie asked, always worried about her ‘kids’. “Yes mom.” He laughed, heading for the door. As he walked to the bus stop, he began to wonder once again just why his father had a change of heart, agreeing to pay his tuition. It was completely out of character no matter what ruling the court had given. His mother had been just as surprised. She’d had no idea her lawyer was even contacting the man about PIFA. As he stood under the streetlight by the bus stop, Justin could feel someone watching him, yet there was no one around that he could see. It creeped him out and he shivered, hating the feeling of being so vulnerable. He almost leapt on the bus when it stopped, rushing toward the harsh glare of the bus’ interior, not caring for once that it made his blond hair green and his pale skin translucent. Sitting down behind the bus driver, Justin pulled out a sketchpad. It was a not so secret vice, the need to sketch every time he rode the bus. He sketched, faces, noses, eyes, and interesting hands. The twist of a dress or the turn of a sleeve all ended up in the pages of his sketchbook. Tonight there were dark shadows, pin pricks of light, movement on his page that implied someone watching, waiting, for him or another unwary traveler of Pittsburgh’s streets. “You have talent.” Justin jumped at the words. “Oh, thanks.” He said with a slight blush. The woman who had spoken was older, her hair grey, but her eyes were young and twinkled. Justin began to sketch her, his fingers flying over the page. “My name is Sara.” The woman said, interrupting Justin once again. “I know people don’t usually talk while on the bus, but it’s a quiet night and the bus is almost empty.” She shrugged and smiled. “I hope you don’t mind.” “I don’t mind.” Justin said with a smile. “No one ever talks on the bus, unless they’re crazy or drunk or something.” “Perhaps I qualify for the crazy part, but I don’t drink.” She laughed. “I mean, to go all the way down here for a pint of ice cream this late at night should qualify me for the title of crazy.” She nodded at the insulated bag at her feet. “It’s wonderful, filled with chunks of dark chocolate covered English toffee. You can only get it at the little specialty shop on Liberty Avenue.” “Oh, I know that place, I love their chocolate covered brandied cherries.” Justin’s mouth watered at the thought. “Oh, I love those too.” She reached down and pulled out a small white bag. “I bought five of them tonight.” She held out the bag. “Have one.” “Are you sure, I mean they’re kind of special.” Justin looked at the bag with longing. “Of course I’m sure.” She laughed as he reached in and pulled out one of the chocolates. “I always bite a bit of the dark chocolate at the top first.” “I put the whole thing in my mouth and let it just melt.” Justin grinned, popping in the candy. He shut his eyes in ecstasy as he savored the flavor. When it was gone he looked at the woman. “Thanks, that was just what I needed.” “Chocolate is the nicest thing in the world to share.” She smiled. “This is my stop. It was nice to meet you.” They were in front of the Rosewood Building. “Justin, my name is Justin Taylor.” “Justin, it was nice to meet you Justin.” She stepped down off the bus and to Justin’s amazement walked to the Rosewood Building where she let herself in with a key. He ran to the rear of the bus to make sure she went into the building, wishing he’d had the presence of mind to get off with her, hating that the bus seemed to speed up faster than usual on its way to his own stop. He sat back down, quickly sketching Sara’s face. She looked familiar to him but he was sure they hadn’t met before. It was the first time in all of the times he’d watched the building that he’d seen someone go into it. It figured he had to see this wondrous sight when he was stuck on the bus. The next day rather than establish himself in front of the Rosewood Building to sketch, Justin decided he’d stake out Chuck’s Chocs, the specialty candy store. He’d never seen anyone come or go from the large building until the night before. But he might have better luck waiting for Sara where she liked to indulge her sweet tooth. For three days all he accomplished was a series of drawings for his portfolio. On the fourth day when he was sitting in Starbucks reconsidering this idea, ‘cause at least the Rosewood Building was familiar and had some interest for him, Sara sat down at his table. “Justin Taylor, how nice to see you again. Do you mind if I sit down and share your table?” “Hi Sara, no, share away.” He grinned, pleased that she had found him. “I see you like mochas too.” “Love them.” She sipped and then sighed. “I like to sit here and watch the people go by. This time of year is the best, the summer is almost over, fall is around the corner and no one seems to be in too much of a hurry.” She reached over and touched his sketchbook. “You’re an artist?” the statement was more of a question. “I am.” He smiled. “I’ve always been an artist. I can’t remember when I didn’t have some kind of pencil or crayon in my hands.” “That’s nice, to know what you are.” She sipped her mocha again. “Are you still in school?” “Kind of. I graduated from Saint James and now I’m going to PIFA.” He was proud and his voice showed it. Sara smiled; she did Brian’s bookkeeping. Now she knew why there had been a check issued for a full scholarship. Somehow this boy had caught her boss’s attention. Could it have been that one brief time when Justin was in their building? “That’s wonderful dear, your parents must be very proud of you.” Justin looked down at the table and then up at Sara. “My mom is. My dad, he doesn’t like to admit he has a gay son. And a gay son attending PIFA just isn’t something he likes his club buddies to know.” “That’s his loss Justin.” She patted his hand. “There will come a day when your father will realize what he’s missed.” “Yeah, well here’s to holding my breath for that.” He saluted with his cup. “Do you know the owner of the Rosewood Building?” he asked, coming right out with his question. “I mean I saw you go in there the other night. I’ve never seen anyone go in before.” Sara laughed. “Yes, I know the man. He’s rather a solitary man though. He doesn’t get out much. Not that he doesn’t go out, just not often, and seldom during the day.” “Is he a vampire or something?” Justin asked. “I mean like on Buffy, all broody and tall dark and handsome, cause that could be cool.” He laughed to show he was joking, but in the back of his mind he kind of liked the idea of being Buffy to the owner’s Angel. “What’s his name?” Justin asked. “I’ve tried everything to find out?” “His name is something he keeps rather private.” She smiled and patted Justin’s hand. “He’s a story teller of the old school and rather thinks of his name as being something personal.” “Oh, like in fairy tales where knowing something’s name, meant you had them in your thrall.” “Something like that.” She paused. “I believe it’s more that once you know his name, he somehow feels responsible for your wellbeing. He’s very protective of anyone he gets to know.” “Uh, how does he ever get to know anyone? I mean I’ve been kind of watching the Rosewood Building for months and I’ve never seen him.” Justin blushed; he hadn’t wanted to tell her that part. “I do believe I’ve noticed you once or twice.” She giggled. “I can’t imagine what you could find to sketch.” “Oh, the building is amazing. It’s a classic for one thing.” He reached into his bag and pulled out an old sketchbook that was filled with Rosewood Building sketches. “Look, there’s the window on the third floor just as the sun is setting. And here’s the front door at dawn, see the shadows, you can almost see the ghosts of the people who used to live there.” Justin continued to turn the pages, explaining why he sketched this part of the building or that. And every now and then, Sara saw parts of her boss in the margins of the pages. Things sketched unconsciously, almost doodles, eyes filled with sadness, the shape of a brow, the twist of lips. “What’s this?” she finally had to ask. “Oh, just parts of someone I think I saw.” He looked embarrassed. “I know it sounds kind of weird, but I had this bad fever a few months ago. I was in the hospital forever, or at least it seemed like it was forever. And I kept seeing this man. Not really seeing him. I mean catching a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye kind of. It was as if he was watching over me. I started to think he was my guardian angel. Now I do know that sounds really dumb and almost like a kid or something. But I honestly felt that he was willing me better.” He flipped through some pages. “Look, there are his hands. I was waking up one morning, and I was sure I could feel his hands holding my hand. You know, kind of cupping my hand, one of his fingers rubbing my skin.” He shivered, remembering. “I couldn’t open my eyes easily. I was afraid to in case it was all a dream. I didn’t want it to be a dream.” He flushed and closed the book. “But you’re better now.” She asked, realizing now where Brian had disappeared to night after night. “I’m better, but I have to be careful that I don’t catch a cold or anything. I did some damage to my lungs. I’m a painter and the fumes are hard on me. I need to find a studio with some decent air cleaning system or at least be able to put one in. I’m not broke or anything. I can afford to make alterations to a studio if I find the one I want. I’m looking for an apartment near the studio. I mean near like in the same building. When I’m working on something I kind of forget stuff like eating. I don’t want to waste time going home. My mom won’t let me live in my studio because of my lungs. She said no matter what kind of cleaning system I have, it wouldn’t be good enough. Hell, she even wants me to wear a mask.” “She loves, she wants you safe.” Sara’s voice was soft. “It’s a mother kind of thing.” Justin laughed out loud. “Yes, I suppose it is. My mom’s friend Debbie is siding with mom on this one too. I don’t stand a chance. Debbie is kind of a super mom and what she says goes or you’ll be damn sorry. She’ll nag you to death about it.” “Not everyone is so fortunate as to have so many who care for them.” Sara started to gather her things together. “I’d better get home. I have a wife waiting for me.” “Wait, don’t go. You didn’t say if you’d get me in to see the building’s owner.” “Oh, that would never be possible young Justin Taylor.” She paused. “But I might be able to arrange for you to rent a studio and an apartment in the building.” “NO SHIT.” Justin stood up and hugged her. “Are you serious, I mean really, really serious?” “Of course I’m serious, but no doubt there’ll be a rule or two. The main one being that you don’t go past the third floor. There aren’t any locks on the doors, and I trust I won’t need to put any there.” “I promise.” Justin couldn’t stop himself from grinning. “I can’t believe it. This is better than getting into PIFA, better than cinnamon apple strudel.” Sara accepted his hug in good grace. “I’ll get back to you with the particulars and a lease. You haven’t asked about the rent.” “It’ll be okay whatever it is. Do you have any idea how badly I want to get into that building? And to actually be able to live there is going to be amazingly wonderful and every cool adjective you can think of.” “The building is only a building, Justin. Nothing special, only a building that is rather old and very empty of life.” “It’s not empty of life.” He said. “The building has absorbed a million stories since it was built.” “Ahhh, a romantic.” She sighed. “It’s too bad.” Her words went unheard by Justin. It was just as well, he didn’t need to know that her boss and his future landlord was just as much a romantic, if a foolish one. “When will you know for sure, about me moving there and everything?” Justin was excited, barely containing his glee. “I know now. I just need to finalize a few things.” She leaned forward and patted his shoulder. “Justin, your desires regarding the apartment and studio are not something you hid. The owner of the building was aware of your request. He needed time to think about it. He’s taking a big risk as far as he’s concerned. You have to understand just how much he values his privacy. To have you in the building means he’s let you breach the walls of his castle. It isn’t something he’s done lightly. But he’s done it because he admires your tenacity and your talent as an artist.” “He’s seen my work?” Justin asked. “Of course he has, you were featured in the last show at the Center. He was there and saw your work.” “He was?” Justin had been there a lot during the three days. He was sure he’d remember if anyone had taken any special interest in his work. Sara didn’t mention that her boss had purchased two of the boy’s sketches. She wasn’t sure that Brian was aware she knew. Sometimes it was best to keep quiet about any openings in the man’s armor.