by Regina Duke
As he approached the vehicle, Zinnia’s face was turned away from him, and her head was down. When he walked around to get behind the wheel, his worst fears were confirmed. Her eyes were red and swollen, her nose was pink, and she was sniffling into a tissue.
“I’m so sorry, Zinnia. I thought learning who your real father was would make you happy, or at least give you information you might need. But maybe we should never have done this.”
From the back seat, Rose said, “This is my fault. I’m the one who was gung-ho to have her ask her mother. I’m really sorry, Zinnia. I didn’t know it was going to break your heart.”
Zinnia sniffed and replied, “It’s okay, guys. I’m not hurt because I’m not a Clausen. That sort of surprises me, but that’s not it. I’m hurt because Mom kept this a secret from me all these years and never told me. If she had, maybe I would have understood why Bernard didn’t seem to hold me as dear as he did the other kids. Once or twice I mentioned it to her, but she said he loved me as much as my brothers and sisters. Now I understand. It’s not that he was a bad father. He was as good to me as he could be. There was just something, you know what I mean? One little ounce of that pound of fatherhood was different toward me than it was for the others. And that really affected our relationship. If I’d known he wasn’t my biological father, maybe I would have cut him some slack.”
Bart laughed softly. “And maybe, just maybe, you would have fought like cats and dogs for the rest of your life.”
Zinnia shook her head. “I don’t think so.” She paused and dropped her gaze to her lap before admitting, “Maybe you’re right. There were so many times I just wanted to get in his face and say, ‘How come you let Chrissie do this and that, but I’m not allowed to do anything?’ I never did, though. He was always hard to talk to, especially when he’d had one too many beers. I do feel bad for my mom, though. She was sure she was doing the right thing. And she was so ashamed of getting pregnant at the prom and then finding out she’d been used and tossed aside. I hate men.” There was a long silence before she added, “Except for you, Bart.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re making an allowance for me,” he teased. Then he tipped Zinnia’s chin up with one finger. “I just wanted to let you know that you won’t have to worry about your mom or where she’s living from now on. I took care of that.” He glanced back at Rose to include her in the conversation. “Let’s go over to Rose’s house and tell her parents she’ll be coming to New York with us as soon as possible, as a chaperone for her best friend as she launches her art career.”
Rose squealed with delight. “OMG, you’re kidding! This is so exciting! Let’s go tell them now.”
“The Morris will have to stay in their driveway,” added Bart. “I don’t think there’s room for it on the jet.”
Zinnia looked puzzled. “What jet?”
Bart smiled sweetly and said, “The private one we’re chartering to take us to New York.”
Zinnia sucked in a breath and protested, “I don’t have anything to wear in New York!”
“I thought we covered that. You’re an artist. You can wear anything you want. Designer clothes or Walmart. Remember, when I first came to Eagle’s Toe, I was wearing overalls and a Wookie disguise, I had so much hair, and that’s how I rose from unknown to star of the art world in Europe. But over here, well, the circumstances are different, and here I am in Eagle’s Toe borrowing my brother’s clothes.”
Rose asked, “Why don’t you go shopping with us?”
“Because I have no fashion sense. Safer to borrow from Don. He has an amazing wardrobe.”
Zinnia grinned at him. “Yeah, I wondered what was going on with that.”
Bart said, “We’ll go shopping as soon as we recover from jet lag.”
Zinnia looked, dreamy-eyed, in his direction and said, “I think that sounds wonderful.” She looked back at Rose. “You’re coming, aren’t you, Rose?”
Rose was practically jumping up and down on the back seat. “Of course I’m coming! Let’s go tell my parents! Meanwhile, let’s give some thought to which stores we want to shop at.” She pulled out her phone, opened her browser and started typing. “High fashion in New York.”
Zinnia wailed an objection. “Can’t we just wait until we get there and then find some place we can afford?”
Bart said, “That’s a great idea. And I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised at what you can afford there.” Especially using my credit card, he added silently.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The next three days were a flurry of activity. Zinnia was so busy and so excited that she literally forgot what day it was. When she finally dropped into her bed at night, all she had the energy for was listening to her favorite song and letting it lull her off to sleep. During the day, there were arrangements to be made, phone calls, and visits with Bart’s family members, letting them know what was going on.
She was relieved to hear that Ashley was doing well, and the gallery would reopen as soon as Mina could spare a clerk from her boutique to sit at the Gallery counter. That made Zinnia feel so much better. Ashley would have help, and Zinnia didn’t feel like a traitor.
Taylor was sad to hear that her brother was leaving so soon. She arranged for a photo shoot to get pictures of Bart and the baby before he left. She also wanted to include Zinnia in those photos, just to remind him—or so she said—that Zinnia was an excellent match for him and every time he looked at the photos, she wanted him to remember that fact. Zinnia had blushed hotly when Taylor announced that to everyone present.
Rose was ecstatic about the whole thing. She drove around in her little Morris, letting some friends know that she was going to New York and they might get a postcard, if they were lucky. But not a word to Chester or his family.
Zinnia was afraid she would have to confront Chrissie or at least have a conversation with her before she left. Wasn’t it only fair to let her sister know that she was marrying Zinnia’s half-brother? She shuddered at the thought. But Bart suggested she skip that chat, saying on the second day of their preparations, “Zinnia, it took your mother twenty-one years to reveal the secret to you. Let’s allow her to tell Chrissie in her own time.”
Zinnia accepted that suggestion. It was a relief to know she didn’t have to interact with Chrissie at all. She did wonder what Bart had done for her mother but didn’t have a moment alone with him to ask about it.
On the third day, they sat down at lunch and made plans for their flight out the next morning. Bart jotted down their hotel’s details for Rose’s parents. He’d arranged for a double suite but didn’t tell them what it cost because Zinnia told him that they would insist on paying their daughter’s share. To avoid that, Bart told them he was adding Rose to his staff, where she would be earning money as the professional companion of the soon-to-be-famous artist, Zinnia.
They discussed other things as well. “I’ve also arranged for studio space near our hotel, and it’s being stocked as I speak. I might have to spend some time supervising the set up of my show, but other than that I’ll be working with you in the studio. Rose will keep you company while I’m gone.”
That made Zinnia feel more comfortable and she let herself enjoy the fantasy of having a studio to work in. Having Rose there would be wonderful, because the idea of being left alone in New York, unfamiliar with the streets and taxis and subways, had begun to worry her. She still didn’t know what exactly she would be doing at Bart’s opening, but she felt that if she was with him, she’d be fine.
In the evenings Rose was on her laptop, making a list of museums, stores, activities, and reading about how to use the subway. Her parents had taken her on BART when they went to San Francisco, but that was where her cousins lived and she sort of knew her way around there. New York was a whole different ballgame, and she wanted to be well informed before navigating those subways.
Zinnia had hoped to spend a quiet evening before they left for Pueblo in the morning to meet the private jet, but Bart’s brother a
nd sister had other plans. The three of them wound up spending several hours with Bart’s family. The weather wasn’t helpful and more snow was falling, so they were all inside Taylor’s big house. Don and Rayna were there, and so were Thor and Ashley. That was the saving grace for Zinnia, because it gave her the chance to say good-bye to Ashley before they left.
The next morning, Zinnia, Rose, and Bart stuffed the girls’ suitcases and Zinnia’s growing portfolio into Bart’s rented SUV and headed for Pueblo.
“Gosh,” said Zinnia, “I hope we don’t miss our flight.”
Bart smiled. “That’s the joy of a chartered plane. They wait for us.”
Rose giggled with excitement. “Can we have champagne on the flight?”
“You can have anything they’ve got,” said Bart, trying not to show his amusement at their excitement.
“This is so cool!” Rose rubbed her hands together. “I’m so glad my parents were okay with it.”
Zinnia remarked, “Your mother was thrilled that you were letting her drive the Morris.”
“Well, she paid for it,” said Rose, drily, “so it felt like the right thing to do.”
“I think I saw tears in your dad’s eyes when you said good-bye yesterday,” said Zinnia, wondering what that must be like, to have a father who wept at the idea of being separated for a few weeks.
Rose nodded. “I told him I’d send him tons of pictures.”
Zinnia admired the jet as they boarded. It was sleek and made her feel like royalty. The flight was uneventful, in that the trip went smooth as silk, but Zinnia and Rose drank too much champagne and by the time they landed in New York, both were ready to giggle at the drop of a hat.
Bart pretended to be irritated, but Zinnia could tell he was having a good time, as well. A town car met them on the runway and whisked them and their luggage off to the hotel. It felt like the slowest part of their trip was that battle through city traffic, which intimidated both Zinnia and Rose.
“Sure glad I didn’t bring the Morris,” said Rose, her champagne high beginning to fade.
Zinnia scrunched up her face and asked Bart, “How does the driver even know how to change lanes? Everyone’s driving so fast. What’s the speed limit here?”
“Doesn’t matter,” said Bart, more relaxed than he had been all day. “No one drives the limit here. The challenge is keeping up with traffic so you don’t have an accident. And if you make a mistake—assuming you don’t die—everyone will have an opinion about what you did wrong.” Then he laughed. “Don’t worry, ladies. We’ll have a chauffeur at our disposal.”
“Oh my goodness,” said Zinnia, leaning back against the soft leather seats. “I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.”
Rose leaned close to her and whispered, “Welcome to the life of the Haves.”
* * *
Bart relished his position as Zinnia’s protector and teacher. He was pretty sure that Rose was relieved to know he would take the lead in the city, although he had no doubts that she would make her own wishes clear with no hesitation. That was good, because he didn’t want either of the women to feel as if he was making all their decisions for them.
That first day, though, as they drove slowly through traffic, a ride that took almost an hour, he felt certain that they were pleased and impressed by all the goodies he’d provided so far. He knew she really liked him a lot from her pleasure at his little touches and kisses. She even seemed annoyed that Rose wanted her to go sightseeing without Bart—just the girls.
Once they got to the hotel, he could see Zinnia’s hesitation as she realized they would be staying in one huge suite with a bedroom on either side of the common room.
She said, “This is one big suite.”
“Yes, it’s a double suite. Two bedrooms. No worries.”
Zinnia didn’t look convinced. She assumed her Gone with the Wind stress persona and drawled, “Y’all won’t come into our room in the middle of the night and do something ungentlemanly, will you?”
“Of course not,” said Bart. “We’re going to be way too busy for any kind of shenanigans. Besides, Rose will be sharing your bedroom, and there’s a lock on the door.” He smiled reassuringly.
Zinnia blushed. “Sorry.”
Bart laughed. “I totally get it. I want you to feel safe and comfortable. We have a lot to do. We’ll start at the studio tomorrow morning.”
Rose objected, her disappointment was obvious. “I thought we were going to go shopping. I have an itinerary all planned out.”
Zinnia giggled.
Bart said, “You’ll get your chance, Rose. We’re going to work for a few hours, and then I’ll turn you two loose, if you like. Or…I can come along. The chauffeur will drive us from store to store.”
“That sounds great,” said Rose eagerly. “And if you two are working in the morning, you won’t mind if I sleep in, will you? You can pick me up on your way to go shopping.”
Bart laughed. “Don’t mind at all.”
Rose was over the moon. “Thanks, Bart. This is really cool.”
Zinnia swiped at Rose’s arm and teased, “Oh now you’re backing out on our deal. I see. You want to sleep in and order room service. I get it.”
“No, I’m not backing out,” said Rose. “I just don’t know what good I would be at the studio with the two of you working like mad.”
Bart didn’t want to admit that he hadn’t given a thought to Rose’s situation other than having her around to be Zinnia’s companion. He said, “If I’m there, you’re free to sleep or see a movie. If I’m not, I’ll be counting on you to keep Zin company, go out to lunch with her, and all that fun stuff.”
Rose tilted her head to one side and made an approving sound. “Okay, sounds great.”
The next week sped by. Zinnia worked so quickly that even when she tried to slow down, she still produced canvases much faster than most artists. After eight days of working half and whole days—some with Bart and some with Rose, who entertained herself by finding a speaker for the iPod and blasting Zin’s favorite CD over and over—Zinnia told Bart, “I never thought I would say this, but I think I need a break. My arms ache from all this pastel and paint work.”
“Yes, I bet they do, considering your method. Have you had fun so far?”
“It’s been wonderful. Going out to eat, all the sightseeing, visiting the Statue of Liberty, crying at Ground Zero…The ten-pound rat carrying the pizza slice down the sidewalk…”
Bart laughed. “Well, you know…New York.”
“I love all of it,” said Zinnia. “Do you have to spend part of the day with Woodsy again?”
“No, thank goodness. Do you think Rose would mind if we took a day to ourselves? Just you and me?”
“That sounds terrific. I’ll ask her.”
As it turned out, Rose wanted some alone time, as well. She wanted to see some museums and walk from one side of Manhattan Island to the other…the short way, of course.
Zinnia asked, “You won’t feel abandoned?”
“Not at all. Besides, I haven’t been to Chinatown for dim sum or noodles or fortune cookies yet.”
Bart was pleased. “Do you want the chauffeur for the day?”
Rose made a face. “That would be awkward, me doing a walking tour while the limo cruises beside me at five miles an hour. No, you two can ride. I’m going to text my mom and take her on a vicarious tour of the Big Apple!”
Zinnia looked worried. “All by yourself?”
“I won’t be alone. I bought myself a portable charger yesterday and I’m going to FaceTime my mother the whole time. She’ll be right next to me. I’ll be fine.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Zinnia hoped that was true. But at the moment, she was much more interested in her day with Bart. She was filled with butterflies, happy to link arms with him as they went down to meet the limo.
“I love this car,” said Zinnia wistfully. “It’s bigger than the storeroom they put me in at home.”
Bart grunted.
“You’ll never sleep there, I promise.”
Zinnia couldn’t stop smiling. While they were working in the studio, she’d noticed that every time he came near her or stood behind her to watch her work, a tingle ran up and down her spine. It was such a happy feeling. She hoped desperately that she wouldn’t disappoint him as an artist. Her insides did a somersault at the idea that she was really pursuing a career in art. She’d even sold a couple of paintings! At least, Bart had promised they were sales, not just him selling to family.
But the best part of the whole adventure was spending time with him. He was handsome, polite, protective…and handsome…and sexy…and handsome. Her fixation on his appearance made her giggle.
Bart squeezed her hand as the chauffeur strode around the car to open their door. As Zinnia preceded him into the vast interior, she had a fleeting fancy of the limo as their magic coach and wondered if it turned into a pumpkin when the chauffeur went home. Maybe he carried it under his arm on the subway when he was done for the day.
Instinctively, she pulled out a small drawing pad—she still carried two of them with her everywhere, one for drawing and one for practicing hanzi characters—and made a sketch of a uniformed chauffeur on the subway with a pumpkin on his lap.
Bart squinted at the image, and she was thrilled that he seemed to know exactly what she was thinking when he said, “He probably has a pumpkin patch in his back yard.”
