Chapter 29
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At four-thirty, Ian began to wash his brushes in the utility sink near the laundry room, careful to get all of the paint out of each one. He planned to use a fresh roller every day, so there would be no unintentional colors on the stripes. He wanted to do this job right for Rémy.
He made the other painters wash their brushes as meticulously as Ian did his own. They complained a little.
“No one washes their brushes that clean.” The largest man named Bruce groused. He seemed to be the leader.
“I do, and I know the paint goes on smoother with a clean brush. Don’t complain about the time it takes. It’s on my dime, and if you run over, that’s time and a half.”