You had been ignoring your brother’s best friend’s texts.

So, of course, Nicky shows up unannounced at the art gallery you work at.

“What are you doing here?” you whisper.

His eyes flicked to your name tag, then back to your face. “You stopped replying.”

You glared. “Not an answer.”

He just hummed, glancing around the room.

Then, out of nowhere, he asked, “Do you get commission on the sales you make?”

You blinked. “Yes. Why?”

Nicky lifted a hand and called the manager over. “I’d like to purchase something. Your most expensive piece,” he said smoothly.

Your manager immediately guided the two of you toward the piece he requested.

The second you were alone, you grabbed his sleeve. “Nicky, this piece costs forty thousand dollars.”

He blinked once. “Really? Shit.”

“I’m sure we can—”

“I thought it was expensive,” he interrupted, smirking.