His By Design (17 page)

“True enough. But I’m sure he was distracted by other things then. Besides, anybody with that kind of persistence deserves a reward every now and then.”

“The only reward he’s getting from me this afternoon is a swift kick.” She drew three twenty-by-thirty-inch illustration boards from behind the counter. Each displayed one of Zoe’s design concepts for the party.

“Wow, Zoe, these are amazing.”

Amanda held up the one of the deck. Tables dressed in white linens with black toppers were scattered across the area. Centerpieces of crystal hurricanes surrounded by dramatic red amaryllis nestled in beds of needlepoint ivy graced each table, while garlands of ivy twined with tiny white lights wrapped around the deck railings. A white tent at one end would showcase the five-piece band, while its mirror image at the other would house the bar. Both would be outlined in more ivy and white-lighted garlands. A red carpet continued down the boardwalk to the pavilion by the water where a portable dance floor would cover the decking. Again garlands of ivy and white lights would drape posts and railings and pots of red amaryllis would provide splashes of color.

“You have done a wonderful job on these, partner.” Amanda gave Zoe a hug. “You may not be a smooth talker but these pictures are worth more than a thousand words. Mrs. Wyndham is going to be blown away.”

“I hope so. Come on, let’s get this over with before the gremlin in my stomach eats his way out.”

The drive didn’t take long and when they drove up the winding driveway there was another vehicle already parked ahead of them. Zoe’s hopes, which hadn’t been very high to begin with, plummeted. “Wow. ‘An Affair to Remember.’” She read the gold lettering along the side of the van. “Good choice for an event planning service. Anyone who’s seen that film will already be rooting for them.”

“Well, we’ve got more than a movie on our side. We’ve got talent,” Amanda asserted with a decisive nod. “Let’s go.”

They retrieved their presentation materials from the trunk just as a woman in a black suit came out the front door. She was followed by a young man carrying an easel and an attaché case. She raised a single brow and smirked as she noticed Zoe’s drawings. Zoe scowled. “Bitch,” she muttered
sotto voce
, then minded her skirt as she climbed the steps. With her luck she’d trip on the way up, fall on her drawings, and this presentation would be over before it started.

An hour later, she stowed her drawings in the back of Amanda’s car and slid into the passenger seat. They’d done it. Okay, Amanda had done it, mostly. Although Mrs. Wyndham loved the theme and design concept—Zoe’s contribution—Amanda’s PowerPoint presentation clinched the deal. She had every single item they would use accounted for, including personnel. The caterer, the bartender, wait staff to serve, college boys to set up, clean up, and park cars in-between. It was an awesome display of number-crunching and detail-oriented planning. To top it all off, Mrs. Wyndham told Amanda how much she used to love going to hear her father’s quintet play. Zoe thought Amanda might have a problem with that, since her dad had gone missing one night when she was eleven years old, and she knew how much Amanda missed him. But she kept her poise and won the day.

When they had reached the end of the long driveway and were out of sight of the house, Amanda stopped the car and they squealed like teen-agers, slapping high-fives and hugging.

Zoe felt the weight on her shoulders lift. For the first time in weeks she entertained the idea that her dream would actually come true. There was a lot of work ahead, granted. But they had the down payment from Mrs. Wyndham. Her share of which would let her order the advertising for her grand opening featuring Russell Manheim, and if she was frugal, keep the wolf from the door until her Grand Opening on Memorial Day.

The only thing that worried her now was the mysterious absence of Fredrick Barker. He hadn’t darkened her doorstep since the fateful soft opening on Black Friday. Grateful as she was not to deal with him, she wondered why he hadn’t harassed her recently.

I don’t need to go looking for more trouble. I’ve got enough already. Even if I can pay Barker back on time, what will I do if he wants more than money? What will I do if he threatens to expose me as an art forger if I don’t give him Mom’s painting—and anything else he wants?

She had no answer to those questions.

Instead of dropping Zoe off back at the gallery, Amanda drove to her house and opened a bottle of champagne she had bought to celebrate their
success.

“Wow. You were that sure?”

“You gotta believe, Zo. I’m convinced that believing you can do something is more than half the battle.” She shrugged. “I believed. I bought. It worked.”

They clinked glasses, and Amanda laid the signed contract on the table between them. “One hour to enjoy our success, then it’s back to work. There are still people to find and hire, supplies to order, measurements to take at the Wyndham place and a band to nail down for that Saturday.”

Zoe looked over the rim of her glass. “At least we already have the music taken care of. Talk about serendipity. First this stranger almost totals your car, then he turns out to own the radio station you’re always yakking about, and last but not least, he just happens to need a first class accountant when you ambush him at his office.” She shook her head.

“I know. It was an amazing coincidence.” Amanda took another sip of champagne.

“You’re blushing again, Mandy. You do that a lot whenever he’s the topic of conversation.”

“I do not.” Amanda frowned.

Actually she did, but Zoe wasn’t going to make an issue of it right now. She did look forward to seeing them both together again, just to find out if the vibe she got whenever Amanda mentioned him meant what she thought it did. Amanda hid it well, but Zoe caught the hint of sadness that lurked just beneath the surface of her public persona. Getting the advance from Mrs. Wyndham ought to lighten up her disposition, too.

“Did I tell you Jeff asked Russell Manheim to come down and see the gallery when he got back to town? He’s been on tour for the past few weeks so I’m not sure when he’ll arrive, but I am so looking forward to meeting him.”

“There’s another piece of serendipity. Jeff and Russell Manheim childhood friends. Who knew?”

“Yeah. Amazing, right? More than just friends, too. They were besties all through high school. The gods are really smiling on us lately.”

I hope I haven’t used up all my good karma. I’m going to need a lot of it come Memorial Day.

“I’ll order our decorating supplies today and they should get here by the weekend. Until then, I have a ton of work to do on Dev’s books at the station. You cannot believe the paperwork disaster I saw the first day I went to see him.” Amanda rolled her eyes and grinned.

“Well, the lucky man now has you to navigate the treacherous waters of business plans and corporate taxes.”

“Yep, that’s what I do best. And speaking of business plans, we’d better get back to our own. Celebration time is over.”

“You’re having the ivy garlands and lights and pots delivered to the gallery, aren’t you? I’ve got more room to work on them and store them until the big day.”

“I am. Let me know when the stuff arrives and I’ll come over in the evenings and help put it all together.” Amanda took the glasses to the kitchen. “Grab your coat and I’ll drive you back to the gallery. I imagine Jeff may be waiting for you there.” She waggled her brows suggestively.

“Oh lord, he better not be. I’d much rather have a few customers come in this afternoon. Sex is all well and good, but I need money.” She rubbed her fingers together. “The folding kind.”

Chapter 16

Zoe opened a new string of lights and grabbed a couple of needlepoint ivy garlands from the pile at her feet. She deftly began to embed the lights in the ivy.

“Oh, Zoe, I can’t believe I was so insensitive,” Amanda groaned. “Really, my mother was right. Half the time I don’t engage my brain before I open my mouth.”

“I’m sure Mr. MacMurphy isn’t going to hold it against you.”

“He should, though. It was stupid to keep pushing when he obviously didn’t want to talk about his alma mater. But no, I go prattling on about how hard the Eastern Conservatory of Music is to get into, and how talented he must be, until I realize his injuries have destroyed his career as a pianist.” She closed her eyes and dropped her head, then looked at Zoe. “I have to get used to the idea that he’s one of our wounded warriors. It’s just because when I call into his request line at night he seems so nice and friendly and, and . . . well, normal, that I don’t picture him as injured. He always wears a long-sleeved shirt and usually keeps his left hand in his pocket, so I barely notice.” She continued to work on the ivy garland. “The rest of him is too distracting, anyway,” she murmured.

Zoe looked up sharply. “What do you mean by distracting?” The blush was back on Amanda’s cheeks.

“How much more of this do we have to make?”

“About five more miles. And don’t try to change the subject. Tell me about the distracting part.”

“Oh, well, you’ve seen him. He has dark-green eyes that are real show-stoppers, although they seem sad a lot of the time. He’s got this clean, piney, sort of manly scent about him. It’s very, um . . .”

“Sexy?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say sexy, exactly. It’s more, ah, kind of . . .” Amanda finally gave up and finished, “Yeah, it’s sexy. Must be one of those pheromone things. Makes me just want to rub up against him, and—” She snapped her mouth shut.

“I need to meet this guy. Like, tomorrow,” Zoe said with a huge smile. “Invite him over for dinner. I’ll cook.”

“You’ll cook.
You’ll
cook? Zoe, you don’t cook. Ever. You live on takeout and microwave dinners.”

“Okay, then you cook. I’ll invite Jeff too. That way— What’s his name, again?”

“Dev.”

“Right. That way Dev won’t feel outnumbered by two women.”

“No, no. Zo, hold on here a minute. I have no reason to invite him for dinner. Your curiosity doesn’t count. After the way I embarrassed him today, I doubt if he would come anyway.”

“Of course you have a reason to invite him, silly girl,” Zoe contradicted. “We have to find out what facilities he’ll need for his equipment.” She stopped twining ivy, very pleased with herself. “As a matter of fact, I think he should come with us over to Mrs. W’s when we take our final measurements, so he can see the layout and make sure we have things set up right. We wouldn’t want him to show up on party night and not have something essential.”

“I suppose so. Ouch!” Amanda sucked her index finger where the floral wire had poked another hole. “Darn this wire. My fingers are so sore I can barely type as it is.” She looped the finished length of garland over the makeshift rod they were using to keep it from tangling. “I need to get some alcohol.”

“It’s on the bottom shelf in the fridge,” Zoe said.

“For my finger, Zoe. Alcohol for my finger,” Amanda chided, holding up the injured digit.

“Stick your finger in the glass after you pour the wine,” Zoe retorted. “And I’ll have a glass too, thank you very much.”

Considering all the things Amanda carefully didn’t say about her radio deejay, Zoe couldn’t wait to meet Dev and find out what was putting those roses in Amanda’s cheeks.

Frequently of late her own cheeks were red, but her blush was due to embarrassment. She skirted the truth about so many things with Jeff lately, she had trouble meeting his gaze sometimes. She had finally told him about A to Z Enterprises, but explained her participation was only to help Amanda who was having monetary difficulties. Jeff seemed to take the news in stride. In fact he seemed quite distracted lately. He’d made several trips to Baltimore, supposedly to help his dad, and spent fewer and fewer nights with her in between those absences. The possibility he might have another girlfriend back in the city kept her awake at night.

Perhaps he
was
looking at other galleries to hang is work. She hadn’t sold another of his paintings and only one small sculpture since Christmas. She couldn’t blame him for wanting more exposure now that she’d convinced him that he was extraordinarily talented. Still, the thought that he would go elsewhere hurt.

They carefully avoided talking about her investor. She knew Fredrick Barker’s personal attentions were offensive in Jeff’s opinion—heck they were offensive to her as well—and Jeff didn’t understand her tolerance of the man’s abhorrent behavior. She hadn’t realized just how devious and slimy Fredrick was until after she had taken his start-up money. Now she dreaded the thought that he could ruin her reputation, even have her sent to prison, if she didn’t toe the line. On several occasions Zoe almost shared her secret with Amanda, but in the end she was afraid of losing her friendship and good opinion.

Zoe was glad of the work involved in the party preparations. During these winter months the gallery was so quiet she needed something to occupy her time while she essentially treaded water until her grand opening on Memorial Day.

Rusty sat across from Jeff in the corner booth a
t Donatelli’s. After catching the look on his face when Rusty saw his studio, Jeff wasn’t about to suggest they grab some fast food and eat in his room. Housekeeping was not high on his list of priorities, but he knew from past experience it was near the top for Rusty, or Russ as he now preferred to be called.

They were a study in contrasts. Jeff, in need of a haircut as usual, slouched against the side of their booth. His jeans and sweatshirt were clean but by no means would anyone call him fashionable. Russ, on the other hand, wore a black cashmere turtleneck and gray wool slacks, his charcoal overcoat and scarf neatly folded on the seat next to him. His copper-colored hair was trimmed short and his hazel eyes held amusement as he saluted Jeff with his wine glass. “To friends reunited.”

Jeff held up his mug of beer. “
Na zdrowie
!” The toast to health was the only phrase in Polish he knew, thanks to his dad’s frequent use.

“Wow, that takes me back. How is your dad anyway? And Jen? Is she still hiding from the world?”

“Dad is doing fine. I worried about him living alone when Jen insisted on moving down here, but he works so much he doesn’t have time to be lonely.” Jeff took another swallow of his beer. “Jen had her first operation a few months ago. She came through it like a champ. She stayed up in Baltimore with dad for a couple of weeks so she could get to her doctor’s appointments a bit easier, but you know Bug, she couldn’t handle dad’s coddling for long. She’s back down here again.”

“I’m glad she decided to have the surgery. I hated the way she shut herself off from everyone after the accident.”

“Hell, you know Jen, she’s stubborn as a mule. She wouldn’t go out in public before the operation. I hope after the plastic surgeon works her magic she’ll come out of her self-imposed exile.” Jeff grimaced. “I’ve got to ask you for another big favor, Rusty— Russ.”

“You should know by now, pal, whatever you need, I’m there for you. Does it have something to do with this gallery opening? And when do I get to meet the owner, by the way?” He signaled the waiter for another round for them both.

“I thought I’d bring you over there tomorrow. Zoe’ll flip. She’s really impressed with your work and couldn’t believe I knew someone as famous as you well enough to swing this showing. Before you meet her, there are a couple of things you need to know.”

Jeff blew out a breath that flickered the candle on the table between them. How do you ask a friend to help you with something that’s deceptive, and possibly illegal? “It’s complicated.”

“So I gather.” At Jeff’s continuing hesitation, he threw up both hands. “For Pete’s sake, just spill it, man. I’ve never seen you so tongue-tied.”

“Okay, here’s the deal. Zoe knows nothing about Jen. Doesn’t even know she exists.” He held up a hand at Russ’ look of surprise. “There’s more. I’m passing Jen’s paintings off as mine because she wouldn’t agree to go public. She knew Zoe—and maybe some buyers, too—would want to meet her and she wouldn’t do that. But even though I’ve been saving every cent I can, without selling her paintings it would have taken years to get enough for her surgeries.” He took a long gulp of his second beer. “When I met Zoe and found out she was opening a gallery here, it seemed too good to be true. The building needed a ton of reno work and—” He spread his hands, palms up. “It was fate, working in my favor for a change. So, I kind of strong-armed Jen into agreeing, and after I got to know Zoe well enough, I showed her a few paintings, told her they were mine, and asked if she’d hang ‘em in the gallery.”

“And, naturally, she said ‘of course, you big, handsome man, I’d love to hang your work here’.” Russ raised a brow. “How long did it take for you to charm the pants off her? Oh, don’t give me that look. I can tell by the way you say her name that there’s more than a business relationship between you two.”

Rusty knew him too well. “She’s an amazing woman, Russ. Full of dreams and plans to turn this backwater burg into an artists’ colony. She’s got the drive and determination to make it happen, too. She’s put everything she owns into this gallery, plus some start-up money from her old boss. Besides paying me, Zoe put in a lot of time and muscle working alongside me during the renovation. She’s a feisty bundle of energy, beautiful beyond belief, with a body made for sin.”

“Then I assume you’re going to confession regularly now.” Russ laughed, then sighed. “I knew someday some lucky lady would get you. Looks to me like your time playing the field has come to an end.”

Jeff felt his sheepish grin growing as he nodded. Suddenly serious, his nonchalant slouch gone, he leaned his arms on the table. “I’m not sure she sees me as a permanent part of her life, though. The physical side of our relationship couldn’t get any better. She’s hot and sweet and . . .”

“You don’t have to elaborate, I get the picture.”

“Neither of us has even mentioned long-term possibilities. I’m afraid when Jen’s surgeries are over and we tell Zoe the truth, she’ll kick my ass out the door for lying to her. And she’s afraid of her old boss, I think. He’s a real piece of work—rich, smug, arrogant, and slimy. I don’t know for sure why he loaned Zoe the money, but whatever deal she made with him smells like fish-kill at low tide.”

And now I’m going to put our long-time friendship to the ultimate test, buddy. Much as I hate to put you in this position . . .

He spent a few seconds drawing a pattern on the tabletop in the ring from his mug. “So, until I get this whole mess sorted out, I need you to go along with my story. I’m the artist and Jen doesn’t exist.” Jeff sat back and drummed his fingers on the tabletop as he nervously waited for Russ’ decision.

“You realize you’re committing fraud, right?”

Jeff nodded.

“Did you specifically tell any of the people who bought those paintings that you were the artist?”

“Actually, no. I introduced myself as Jay Petrosky and they automatically assumed I was ‘the’ J. Petrosky. I managed to avoid lying outright to anyone. I played the brooding artist and ducked all questions from the buyers.”

Russ looked at the ceiling and shook his head. “So only Zoe thinks you’re the real artist. If she tells anyone you painted those canvases, she’ll be liable for fraud.”

“No. No, she’s innocent, I lied to her.”

“Might be tough to prove that considering your, ahem, relationship.”

Jeff winced. He hadn’t thought about that.

“For the time being, I’ll back you up, pal. Just remember, if this whole mess goes south and somebody decides to make a big deal out of it, you could be in serious trouble.”

“Look, Russ—”

Russ raised a hand and waved away Jeff’s attempted interruption. “We’ll worry about that bridge later. First I have to meet this paragon of beauty and industry who holds your heart hostage. Then we’ll need to figure out how to keep you out of jail.” He finished his wine, frowning thoughtfully. “We may have to intimate that you were jealous of your sister’s talent and needed some quick cash . . . That way, Jen, Zoe, and I are off the hook, and if none of us want to press charges, you may get off with a slightly dented reputation due to unsubstantiated rumors about the questionable authenticity of a few paintings.” He brightened. “That should make your sculptures sell like ice cream on the Fourth of July.”

Jeff groaned.

Russ winked. “I doubt it would be any worse than having everyone you know think you’re gay.”

Jeff covered his eyes and groaned again.

Russ grinned. “Now, let’s order dinner. I’m famished.”

Jeff and Russ came through the front door of the gallery followed by a gusty February wind that stirred the leaves on the ficus
by the front window.

“Zoe must be upstairs. I’ll go get her,” Jeff said.

“Take your time. I’d like to look around a bit before I meet her, okay?”

“Yeah, no problem.” He headed toward the back and climbed the stairs to the second floor.

“Zoe? You decent?”

“Of course I’m decent,” she snapped as she opened the door to her apartment. “It’s the middle of the day and the gallery’s open for business. Did you think I’d be up here prancing around naked?”

“A man can hope.” He leaned down for a quick kiss.

“Cool it, Studley, somebody may come in downstairs.” She eluded his attempt to put his arms around her.

“Somebody did come in downstairs. That’s why I came up here to get you.”