Contempt

“Evelyn, is it so much to ask that you look approachable when manning the merch stand?” Ryan leaned against he table, stealing one of her pencils.

She rolled her eyes with a smile, continuing with her design. “Well, I didn’t know my days would be spent catering to teenage girls who want to screw my brothers.” Ryan dropped the pencil back on the table, surprised at her language. “Besides, I need to work on my portfolio, I couldn’t exactly pack my sewing machine into the van.”

“So you’ll just design at the table and scare away the fans.”

“Keep smirking like that and you’ll wake up as Ian tomorrow, Stephen the day after.”

“What do you have against him?”

Evelyn started packing her pencils back in the case by color, “He irks me. He’s worse than Ian!”

Ryan laughed, stealing her sketchbook, flipping through the pages. “So are you making these when we get home?”

“Why, does your drag act need another black halter top dress? You’d have to do the fitting yourself, my mannequin is a size six.”

“They’re good, is all,” he gave her a light glare.

“What do you have there, Ry?” Evelyn concentrated on organizing her pencils to keep from sneering. “Didn’t you peg you as a halter kind of guy.” To answer both Evelyn and Ryan’s questioning looks, “Well, it’d make your shoulders look huge.

Ryan laughed, Evelyn hid her smile behind her hand. “When did you become a fashionista, Stephen?”

Stephen’s lip pulled up a bit, “I’m not. So what are you holding?”

“My sketchbook. I have to keep up my portfolio.” Evelyn spoke coolly as she reached for the book, Stephen grabbed a hold of it before her fingers could catch the binding.

“So, artist then?” He flipped through pages carefully.

She at least thanked his respect, not flipping through vigorously, tearing the pages. “Fashion,” Evelyn reached for the book again, but he held it out of reach by stepping farther from the table.

She walked around the table. “So, what’s this then?” Stephen held up the book with a smirk. The page held a sketch to Jamie.

“Flip through the next few pages, you’ll see one of Ryan, my dad, Nash, even a half finished picture of Ian.”

“So, artist.” His voice was matter of fact as he continued to peruse her work. She rolled her eyes, pulling the notebook out of his grasp with so little effort she was surprised. “Not too bad. Maybe you could draw me sometime.”

She raised her eyebrow. “Really?” She couldn’t think of any other way to respond.

“Yeah, how long does it take?”

Evelyn shrugged, running her hand to check the pins in her, remembering she hadn’t put any in today. “It depends, could be anywhere from an hour to three.”

“Well, we’ll figure it out, right?” He offered her his smirk and set off in the direction he had come from.

“Is it just me, or did he not actually ask you?” Ryan somehow stole her sketchbook while she was looking at Stephen’s shrinking figure until it got lost in a crowd.

“He was civil,” she said breathlessly, still surprised. Evelyn shook her head, composing herself. “Okay, that was so strange.”

An arm wrapped around her shoulders, a familiar voice speaking, “Hey, you never did finish that drawing of me.”

She rolled her eyes at Ian, slipping from his grasp, “Maybe later.” Her mind was still on Stephen and the way he had spoken to her.