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Authors: Erin McCarthy

Close Up (11 page)

BOOK: Close Up
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It was time to embrace her awesomeness.

That’s why she was back in Minnesota.

“Time to open the doors,” June said. “Kristine, can you handle that, please?” Then June noticed the glass in her hand and frowned. Turning slightly so Ian couldn’t see her, she mouthed, “No drinking,” to Kristine.

She should have known her boss wouldn’t approve. Since she was grateful June wasn’t blaming her for leaving the front door of the gallery unlocked, and thus allowing the vandal in, Kristine knew she couldn’t afford to have any more strikes against her. Nodding to acknowledge she understood, she set the glass down on the station set up for dirty dishes and glasses. “Sure, I’m happy to open the door.”

As she was walking across the gallery, aware that she was underdressed, she heard June ask Ian in a puzzled voice, “Who is that woman in the caftan? Is she with you?”

Kristine winced. She desperately wanted to turn around and see what her mother was doing, but she didn’t dare risk it. When she got to the front door, putting on a smile to greet the few people who were waiting on the sidewalk to enter, she chanced a glance backward. Then was damn sorry she had.

Her mother was talking to Ian.

Oh, no. No, no, no.

The pit in her stomach grew to the size of a softball, and her cheeks flushed with the heat of mortification. Not to mention fear that she was sunk. This job was history because there was no way Ebbe was discussing the chilly weather they were having.

Torn between opening the door and running back to grab her mother by the arm and drag her into the back room, Kristine concluded she was screwed either way. Her best option was to deal with the guests first and hope that Sean would run interference with Ebbe. If he could pry himself away from the sexy sushi smorgasbord.

She opened the door and greeted the guests as quickly and politely, as possible, ushering the dozen early arrivals into the gallery.

It was a decision that proved to be the wrong one because all it did was allow everyone who had just entered to see her mother fighting off the security guard Sean had clearly sent over to speak to her.

“Let me go, you oaf!” Ebbe yelled as the man took a firm hold of her arm and tried to escort her toward the back room. They grappled with the tie around her wrap dress. “I’m an American. I have rights! If the buffet girls are naked and the photos are naked, why can’t I be? Double standards! So typical of a man.”

“What on earth?” one of the guests asked, her hand fluttering to her cleavage. “Is this performance art?”

“Yes,” Kristine said, seizing the opportunity to explain her mother’s outburst. Had her mother been intending to drop her dress and go naked? Good grief. “Yes, it is. We’re tying it into the brutality of women’s cancers.” God help her for the lie, but it was in the best interest of the success of the event.

“Oh, I see.” The woman and her husband nodded. “Very thought provoking.”

That was one way to put it. Kristine tried not to gasp as a whole lot of Ebbe bounced around while she tussled with the security guard. She wasn’t even sure what to do at this point. Terrified to see Ian Bainbridge’s reaction, she couldn’t even bring herself to look in his direction.

But then she saw Sean take charge of the situation and her mother by waving off the security guard and bending over to speak to Ebbe. To her surprise, Ebbe actually paused to listen to him, her arms no longer flapping around in protest.

Feeling a little less frantic, Kristine ushered the guests farther into the gallery. “Help yourself to champagne and sushi and meet our guest of honor, photographer Ian Bainbridge.”

Her voice sounded almost normal, and she was impressed with herself.

When Sean and Ebbe disappeared into the back room she let out a huge sigh of relief.

June waved her over and Kristine went to her boss. “Who in God’s name was that?” June asked.

“I have no idea,” Kristine lied. “Good thing we have security.”

“That wasn’t our spray paint fiend, was it?”

“No, I’m confident of that.” She was, thankfully. Ebbe wouldn’t have been so sly about her vandalism. She would have owned it straight up. This was clearly the work of someone else entirely, though she had no idea who it could be. The woman in the pictures, she supposed.

But either way, Kristine had a feeling she was going to owe Sean for escorting Ebbe away, and she had a pretty good idea of what he would ask for in repayment.

Which he confirmed when he came back out ten minutes later and strolled over to her, his jacket still off, hands in pockets, as if nothing was out of the ordinary whatsoever. Leaning in close to her, he stated, “I may need therapy after that, but Ebbe is now safely ensconced in my car with a guard, playing solitaire on her cell phone.”

“Really?” That seemed too easy. “Thank you.”

Sean eyed her. “You seem to say that a lot to me. It’s very polite. I don’t want polite.”

Kristine bit her lip. “This isn’t the time...my mother is distracting me.”

“Your mother is distracting me, too, when I only want to focus on you. Come to the lake with me,” he demanded. “Make me forget about everything but you.”

She shivered. He was invading her space without hesitation and she was very aware of his masculinity, the way he towered over her, making her feel smaller and feminine. Maybe it was exhaustion. Maybe it was the gratitude she felt for everything he had done in the past couple of days, including not being angry with her. Not much anyway. There was definitely something simmering under the surface.

Or maybe it was just because Kristine couldn’t resist the chance to climb back into bed with her ex.

But whatever it was, she heard herself say, “Yes. I’ll go to the lake with you.”

The corner of his mouth turned up in a sinful smile. “You won’t regret it.”

She probably wouldn’t. And that was the root of the problem.

8


M
Y APOLOGIES FOR
the earlier disruption,” Sean told Ian an hour and a half later. Technically, his firm wasn’t responsible for letting in Ebbe, but it was their job to ensure any issues that popped up were dealt with swiftly. Frankly, he had coaxed her out of the gallery faster than he would have expected possible. Given that most of the guests haven’t even arrived, he hoped it wasn’t that big of an issue that she had gotten a little mouthy. He was profoundly grateful her intended plan to strip naked had been thwarted before anyone had seen anything they didn’t need to see.

Ian shrugged. “No worries. Everyone’s got something to say, right? I welcome opinions on my work.”

Ian was handling it better than Sean would have if it was his big night to shine. Maybe there was a lesson there. “I don’t think she was exactly offering an opinion. More like a condemnation.”

Laughing, Ian took a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. “I get that a lot. Nudity bothers people for some reason. It doesn’t bother me. It’s the most obvious form of expression modern humans have.”

Sean couldn’t argue with that. He wanted to express himself naked with Kristine tomorrow at the cabin. While he had thought she would eventually cave and agree to spend time with him, he had been surprised at how easy she had been to convince. The thought made his mouth hot and his cock throb.

Fortunately, the evening was winding down and tomorrow would be here sooner rather than later. Kristine had been flitting around the room all night, her cheeks flushed and her smile wide. To someone who didn’t know her, she looked in command of the situation, but he recognized the signs of strain. She was definitely stressed. This job was clearly important to her. He also imagined she must be starving. She hadn’t eaten from what he had seen.

“I can understand that,” Sean told Ian. “So how long are you in Minneapolis?”

“Just another week, then we’re rolling out and heading to six more cities before the end of the year.”

“Sounds exciting.”

“More like tiring.” Ian gave him an ironic smile. “But it goes with the territory.”

“I can imagine.” Sean knew all about working a lot of hours. The majority of his twenties had been spent building his business. While his college friends had been out catching Twins games and trying every bar uptown, he had been answering emails and taking his mentor’s clients out for business dinners. There hadn’t been any time for fun, and while he was now reaping the rewards financially of that discipline, sometimes when he was up at midnight in his apartment, still working, a glass of wine his only companion, he had to wonder if there was a way to balance work and play more effectively.

“Running your own business is probably similar to my experience,” Ian said. “It’s rather relentless, isn’t it?”

Sean nodded. “It is.”

“Are you married, or is there a girlfriend?”

“No,” he said automatically. But then as he always did when women asked him the same question, he immediately felt compelled to be completely honest. “Well, technically, I am still married, though we split up ten years ago. We never quite bothered to get that divorce.”

“No kidding? Ten years is a long time.” Ian looked at him curiously. “Are you still friends?”

“Trying to be.” Or something like that.

“Good luck with that, mate. I don’t imagine it’s easy.”

“I guess nothing about relationships is easy.” Now why the hell was he getting into this with Ian? Maybe because his friendships were few, relegated to his two brothers and his best friend from high school, and he was feeling compelled to talk about Kristine and how she had burst back into his life. But this wasn’t something he needing to be discussing with a photographer who had hired his firm. “Have you ever been married?”

“No. It’s a bit hard to establish relationships when you’re on the road all the time and you take photos of naked people. Women either assume I’m a pervert, spend all their time comparing themselves to various bodies in my shots, or they’re interested in my success more than they are in me.”

Ian didn’t sound cynical, just matter-of-fact. Sean could relate. “I hear ya. Working a lot is murder on the social life.”

“Indeed.”

Realizing they were both just staring at the photo in front of them, Sean suddenly felt awkward. “Well, I’ll let you get back to your guests,” he said, holding his hand out to shake Ian’s. “Best of luck with your future exhibits. I hope there’s no repeat of Wednesday’s vandalism.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

Sean moved past the sushi models, who were down to mostly limp lettuce. Without all the rolls, the display looked even odder, much to his amazement. The brunette winked at him. He smiled wanly, but didn’t want to encourage her. He was not interested. His thoughts and libido were crowded with Kristine.

When he caught her eye as he moved past the beverage station to go to the back room, his smile for her was genuine. Kristine made a face and rolled her eyes for no reason he could determine. So, given that his back was to the room and no one could see him, he stuck his tongue out at her. Eyes widening, she laughed softly.

“Are you leaving?” she asked when he got close enough for her to speak in a low tone.

“I’m just going to check on a certain someone in the parking lot,” he said.

“Ah.” Her eyebrows raised in understanding. “So you’ll be back?”

He might be flattering himself, but it certainly sounded as if she wanted him to return.

Then she said, “Unless you have plans to go out for seconds of wasabi and shrimp.”

What was that supposed to mean? He decided to ignore it for the moment. “I need to get your number when I come back inside.” Then he moved past her and murmured, “Pack light. You won’t need much clothing.”

Her breath caught and her chest rose rapidly beneath her tight sweater. But she said, “You’ll get me in fleece pajamas and you’ll like it.”

Sassy. Just the way he remembered. Just the way he liked.

“I have no doubt I will.” He winked, which seemed to startle her.

Then he continued on to the back room and out the side door exit to the alley where Ebbe was ensconced in his car with his security guard.

And was immediately sorry he had.

“Holy shit,” he blurted before he could prevent himself.

* * *

S
EAN HAD NEVER
been a winker. It caught Kristine off guard. For all that he looked like the superintense businessman, in some ways it seemed Sean was less...eager than he had been ten years ago. Maybe it was because he’d achieved the success he had craved. Now he seemed confident, at ease, comfortable with who he was and his life.

Tossing a wink at her indicated at least a little sense of humor.

Though he had always laughed with her, in the privacy of their studio apartment. He had made goofy faces and done sit-ups naked. All of which had her feeling quite nostalgic. When was the last time she’d been with a man who made her laugh? She worried a lot these days, about money, about the future, and in the past few years, she had dated men who were serious and responsible. It was almost as if she’d been hoping to absorb some of their traits herself.

It wasn’t her, though.

No matter that she introduced herself and thought of herself as Kristine, she was still Kristy, daughter of the wacky Ebbe, raised in an abandoned school bus out in the sticks and in a city apartment, alternately. She was the woman who painted tiny tuxedos on her fingernails and loved swing dance.

Maturing didn’t mean losing herself, and she realized that in saying yes to Sean, she was embracing the impulsive side of herself she had always despised and considered a failure. Her mother’s impulsiveness had created a lot of instability and hardship, and of course, her father’s rash decision to take off had also altered her childhood indelibly. But spontaneity in and of itself wasn’t a flaw, no matter how many people told her it was. It was about embracing the moment.

So, listening to her gut, she decided she needed to go outside, where there was no chance of June or anyone else hearing, and tell Sean she was looking forward to the weekend. Sure, she could tell him tomorrow, but then it wouldn’t have the same impact. He needed to know now that she appreciated his help, and that she was relieved he hadn’t gone ballistic about the divorce papers being served with zero contact. She wasn’t so sure she would have been as forgiving if the shoe had been on the other foot.

BOOK: Close Up
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