Crazy Love by Michelle Pace Read Free Book Online Page A

Saks Fifth Avenue. Three weeks later, I introduced her to Trip and that was the nail in the proverbial coffin of our romance.
    Trip, who had just started grad school at the time, planned to do restoration work for museums after finishing school. He’d been a track star in high school and continued to compete in college; his exceptional talent and unearthly charisma made him very popular with the ladies. Vi, it seemed, was no exception, and he was instantly enamored with her. I’d never seen my brother so consumed by a woman, and it was clear to me from the moment I introduced them that I was seeing the beginning of something monumental. They were the talk of the town when they started dating: a perfect blend of good looks, old money, and lofty ambition. My parents adored Violet, especially Cosmo, who remarked many times that Vi reminded her of a younger version of herself. After a whirlwind romance, Trip bought her an obnoxiously large diamond, and they threw an opulent engagement party that was the talk of the Savannah society columns. Their future seemed to overflow with infinite promise.
    Then everything went down with Daddy, and my brother cracked and splintered, only to later resurface as a crumpled version of his former self. Violet inexplicably married him anyhow. I suppose she believed, as all of us did, that once he’d had time to properly mourn, he’d eventually return to the exceptional Renaissance man he’d been before Daddy’s death. We were all idiots.
    Violet was the last to realize that holding out hope for Trip was wasted energy. Watching her transform from a cheeky spitfire into a bitter whiskey widow was maddening for me. I pleaded with her to leave him. I know that sounds messed up, but I swear it wasn’t because I wanted her back. I’d moved on long before that. They’d had a child, and it was my firm position that I would be damned if Trip’s new brand of bullshit would destroy an innocent life. Thankfully, the same pioneer spirit that had attracted us both to Violet helped her to wriggle free from Trip’s issues which were tethered around her neck like an anchor.
    Trip offered his hand to Annabelle and I felt the past and present collide around me. My chest ached when she took it, and I struggled to understand why. My response to their chemistry was downright annoying, and I presumed it was all just echoes of his betrayal with Vi. He led Annabelle out of the door, and I followed robotically. As I stepped back out into the heat, I was tempted to continue up the street away from my brother and our tumultuous past. But something told me to join them on the studio tour, so along I went.
    As we crossed the threshold into the studio, the smell of paint thinner stirred my adrenaline, and I was instantly energized. As a kid, my brother’s gift for painting always blew me away. I could barely draw stick people, so watching my brother’s genius with a brush was like watching a magician pull a rabbit out of a hat. When we both still lived at home, I’d be in my room studying or in the rec room training at the speed bag, and the scent of fresh paint thinner would permeate the house, calling to me. I’d drop everything I was doing to see what amazing creation Trip was pulling out of the thin air. That was really how it seemed, like he had some exclusive third eye that allowed him to somehow see what belonged on that empty, creamy canvas.
    I entered the studio in time to hear Annabelle gasp and immediately understood her reaction. Paintings overtook the room – dozens of them. They hung from the walls and leaned in bunches against the sparse furniture. Unlike the melancholy paintings that hung in my mother’s foyer, these were bright, vibrant pieces. Bold, colorful and brilliant. The kind he used to paint.
    Old school Trip Beaumont.
    Sober Trip .
    Trip and Annie had moved on to the next room, but I was stuck as if the wood beneath my feet were quicksand. Goosebumps erupted on my arms, and I gaped as I