by Nicola Marsh
Sofia had been right. People were interested in her work. Though, realistically, even if she worked night and day for the next few months, the commissions wouldn’t stave off the inevitable.
She needed money, a lot of it, to keep the gallery running and, right now, with Cooper staring at her with a speculative gleam in his too-blue eyes, reminding her exactly why he was here, she knew she was fast running out of options.
‘Well, I didn’t think it was for my scintillating company, considering you didn’t speak and pouted the whole way.’
‘I didn’t pout!’
‘No? Then what’s that pursing-up thing you’re doing with your lips right now?’
Before she could blink, Cooper leaned forward, his thumb gently brushing across her lips and setting up a delicious tingle that spread throughout her body, lingering in places that hadn’t tingled in a long while.
‘Nothing to say? That’s a first.’
Ariel couldn’t have spoken if she’d wanted to. Her tongue was glued to the roof of her mouth at the sheer shock of being touched by Cooper like this, as if he wanted her, as if she were more than the enemy to him.
Besides, she was too scared to speak. If she opened her mouth, there was no telling what she might do with his thumb in the vicinity of her mouth, when her main impulse was to nibble it.
His thumb skidded across her bottom lip and drifted lower, tracing a slow, leisurely path along her jaw and back, making her knees wobble and her body sway towards him with a will of its own.
‘Guess I better go before you ply me with any of your herbal concoctions, huh?’
He cupped her cheek, his hypnotic stare mesmerising, as if the last thing he wanted to do was leave.
Or was that her interpretation of it?
Was she wishing for something that wasn’t there, considering he made her feel like this?
Like a desirable woman, like an equal, like someone he admired?
When he touched her like this, looked at her like this, she could almost forget the huge, yawning gap between them, a gap that attending the party tonight only reinforced.
Cooper belonged in the rich, uppity crowd she would’ve shunned given half a chance; she didn’t. Never had, never would and that was just fine by her. He knew it, she knew it, then what was this tender act about?
Suddenly, it hit her.
The proposal.
The type of guy he was: a cold, arrogant businessman, who would probably do anything to get what he wanted.
However, before she could shove him away, he dropped his hand and stepped back, regret etched across his striking face.
‘Mind telling me what that was all about?’
She tilted her head back to stare him in the eye, challenging, needing an answer and knowing it was futile to hope it wasn’t what she suspected.
‘I think you know,’ he said, his gaze travelling over her from head to foot, slowly, lingering, and making her body shudder with need as if his hands had skimmed a similar trail. ‘But until you’re willing to admit it even exists, I’m not going to do anything about this attraction between us. And, no, it has nothing to do with business and everything to do with you and me and the way you drive me crazy.’
And for the second time that night, she allowed Cooper to walk away from her, leaving her gob-smacked.
CHAPTER NINE
COOPER finished reading the last page of the proposal, returned it to the stack of papers in front of him and tidied up the lot before slipping the copy into a presentation folder.
This was it.
D-day.
Developer day, when he convinced Ariel to sign over the gallery, guaranteeing him a new start away from his cantankerous old man.
The documentation was flawless and he’d planned for every contingency.
Apart from the one where she said no to his immaculately laid-out plans.
Though that wouldn’t happen if she knew what was good for her. After getting to know the bohemian beauty, he knew for a fact that Ariel’s brain was as impressive as the rest of her.
Something his father would’ve recognised if he hadn’t barged into this deal with all the finesse of a wounded rhino. Then again, his dad hadn’t even rated Ariel, preferring to deal through the council that held her lease.
A small part of Cooper wished his dad had sealed this deal because that would’ve given him free rein to pursue Ariel, to explore the sizzling attraction between them, to kiss her…
Damn, he’d been so tempted last night, so close to throwing his ideals to the wind, hauling her into his arms and making every fantasy he’d ever had about her come true. Thankfully, his befuddled brain had kicked into gear at the last minute and he’d averted a mini disaster.
As much as he wanted Ariel, he wanted to get out of Vance Corporation more and make his stubborn old coot of a dad wake up.
‘Got a minute?’
Speak of the devil…
Eric strode into the office without waiting for an invite and stood over Cooper’s desk.
‘Sure, what’s up?’
It irked Cooper that he couldn’t call Eric ‘Dad’ in the office. In fact, they’d both dropped the ‘dad and son’ act as soon as he’d joined the company. Sad but true.
He’d tried damn hard, putting in long hours, nailing big deals, doing more for Vance Corporation than any other employee in history.
No more.
‘What’s the deal with the Wallace woman? You signed her yet? We’re due to meet with the investors in a few days.’
Cooper tapped the document folder in front of him. ‘I’m meeting with her in an hour.’
An ugly sneer creased Eric’s face. ‘Well, that’s just dandy but is she going to sign on the dotted line?’
‘I’m confident.’
Cooper kept his answers short, non-confrontational, just as he’d learned to do in view of his dad’s ever-increasing short temper.
‘What then?’
Cooper stared at his dad in confusion. They’d never talked beyond the deal. Cooper knew the day he delivered the signed documentation was the day he walked out of here with his contract in tatters but his dad had never asked about his future plans. He just wasn’t interested.
‘Do you really want to know?’
To his surprise, Eric slumped into the chair opposite and lost the surly expression.
‘Yeah, I do. You’ve worked here ever since uni; guess I’m entitled to know your plans.’
‘As my ex-employer or as my father?’
Cooper almost spat the words even though he knew now wasn’t the time or place to have the whole in-depth father/son chat he’d wanted for the last year.
He had more important things to focus on—like convincing a crazy artist to hand over her studio.
‘I deserved that.’
If Cooper had been surprised by his dad’s question, Eric’s concerned expression floored him.
For a moment, it almost looked as if his dad cared.
‘Look, Coop, things have been pretty full-on around here for the last year. Maybe I’ve taken you for granted. You’re a good worker. You’ll go places. Seems a shame to throw it all away on a whim.’
Cooper’s tiny flicker of hope was extinguished in that second.
His dad wasn’t interested in re-establishing a father/son bond. His dad was only concerned about his precious business.
He should’ve known.
Cooper stood up abruptly, shrugged into his suit jacket and picked up the presentation folder. ‘Thanks for the vote of confidence, but this isn’t a whim. Striking out on my own is something I have to do. You’d understand that if you knew me.’
Cooper ignored the stricken look in his father’s eyes and walked out the door, his attention already focussed on the meeting ahead and its importance for his future.
Ariel fussed around the studio, lighting her lime and tangerine candles, plumping the sequinned purple cushions on the ruby sofas and tidying up the evidence of her nerves.
She
’d drunk about a dozen cups of chamomile tea since ringing Cooper this morning and telling him today was as good a time as any to hear his pitch and now, as she stacked the cups in the dishwasher and made her umpteenth bolt for the loo, she wondered if she’d done the right thing.
‘Keep your friends close and your enemies closer’ had been one of Barb’s favourite sayings so Ariel had taken the plunge and rung him, despite her tummy still churning since their almost-kiss last night.
If she’d had her way, she would’ve never laid eyes on the too-gorgeous guy again but they’d made a deal, he’d upheld his end of the bargain and now it was her turn.
As she glanced around the studio her heart swelled with pride. Sunlight streamed through the soaring windows, filtered through the colourful gauze swaths of chiffon she’d hung from curtain hooks, casting a warm, rainbow-like feel over the room. Combined with the refreshing tang of citrus from the aromatherapy candles and the bright ruby and amethyst colour combination of the furniture against the polished oak boards, the place looked inviting: warm, welcoming, a haven.
And it was her haven. Had been from the minute she’d set foot into this room, a scared and starving eight-year-old who’d thought she’d stepped into Aladdin’s treasure cave.
She wanted Cooper to see the studio how she saw it, to feel its ambience, to recognise how much it meant to her.
This wasn’t just about her fervent promise to Aunt Barb. This was her home, the only home she’d ever had and she would fight with everything she had to hold onto it.
The wind chimes over the gallery front door tinkled and Ariel took a deep breath, wondering if she was more nervous about rejecting Cooper’s pitch or seeing the guy so soon after he’d almost made her swoon like the women of her past whose vintage styles she favoured.
‘Ariel?’
‘Be right there,’ she called out, casting one last frantic gaze around the studio and wondering if it was too late to wear her lucky garland.
Though it would clash terribly with her flowing, flower-child dress cinched at the waist with a crocheted macramé belt, and pink flip-flops. Not that she usually cared, revelling in combining colours, patterns, fabrics and shoes with creative abandon, but she’d already told Cooper about the garland’s significance and she didn’t want him prying any further.
Crossing her fingers behind her back that after hearing Cooper’s pitch she wouldn’t want to tear his eyes out, she pushed through the beaded curtain. ‘Right on time. This business meeting must be important to you.’
‘It is.’
Her tone had been light and flippant, his was anything but. Combined with his charcoal designer suit, white shirt and burgundy tie, and an expression that could’ve frozen ice in Antarctica, he looked ready for business. Serious business.
Ironic, considering she could’ve sworn he’d had monkey business on his mind when last here.
‘Go through and I’ll flip the lunch sign. How long is this going to take?’
‘Not long if you’re sensible about it.’
Ariel’s narrow-eyed glare was lost as Cooper strode past her and into the studio.
She waited for some recognition of her efforts, some small comment that he appreciated the beauty of the room, but, after locking the door, flipping the sign and heading back into the studio, one look at the grim expression on his handsome face told her she’d prettied up the place for nothing.
He didn’t get it.
Not that she should be surprised. Despite the cute chats, the traded barbs, the light-hearted banter they’d exchanged, Cooper was basically the cold-hearted businessman she’d labelled him as soon as as she’d learned his identity.
So he’d dulled her senses with his nice act? Looked as if he was here to well and truly pull the blinkers off today.
‘Have a seat. Would you like a drink?’
‘No, thanks.’
He barely looked at her, rifling through some huge, scary black folder in his hands before pulling out an equally scary huge wad of paper.
‘If you’re going to bamboozle me with a whole lot of facts and figures about projections and land values, forget it. Just give me the basics.’
She plopped onto one of the sofas, kicked off her flip-flops and curled her feet under her. Though her insides churned with dread, she needed to present a cool, calm façade and making herself comfortable was part of that. Maybe she should invite this new, uptight version of Cooper to slip out of his shoes and take a load off too?
She smothered a giggle at the thought.
‘I’m glad to see you in such a good mood,’ he said, sending her a quizzical look as he perched on the opposite end of the sofa, as far away from her physically as he could get without sliding onto the floor in an undignified heap.
‘Let’s keep it that way,’ she said, pasting a confident smile on her face when in fact she desperately needed to make another mad dash to the loo.
He didn’t return her smile.
In fact, he didn’t do much of anything.
His face appeared carved out of granite, his blue eyes cold and flat like Port Phillip Bay on a frigid winter’s day.
Darn it, she’d known he had this side to him. In fact, this was probably the real Cooper and the nice side he’d been showing her had been part of his elaborate plan to loosen her up in preparation for this day.
She’d been a fool.
But then again, what had she lost apart from a few nights’ sleep? She’d had the most amazing, erotic dreams of her life about a model with a body to die for and an artist who’d turned to sculpting and therefore had to have her hands all over him.
‘You want the basics?’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘Okay.’
He laid down his hefty sheaf of papers on the coffee-table in front of them and turned to face her, those chilly, lifeless eyes scaring her more than the words she knew would pour out of his mouth. ‘Here’s how it is. This gallery is on land that is leased and that lease is coming up for renewal very shortly. Apparently, Barbara Kane, who signed the original lease, signed it for twenty-five years and in doing so effectively gave you control after she passed away. You have refused previous offers to vacate the property but, in effect, it will be in your interest to consider accepting the offer I’ve set out in the documentation. Otherwise, once the lease runs out, you may find you have no option but to leave with nothing as the council can re-lease or sell to anyone they please.’
Ariel stared at Cooper in growing horror, hearing every cold, callous word he uttered, wishing she didn’t understand.
However, she did, all too well.
She’d known about the lease being up for renewal shortly but she’d assumed the council would be happy to renegotiate with her. After all, she was a good tenant.
She paid her rent on time—mostly.
She didn’t cause trouble at all—apart from that one, tiny fire in the storeroom, which hadn’t been technically her fault.
Besides, the council always supported local ventures, encouraging the alternative, hip vibe that made Brunswick Street unique. Mr Big-Shot was just trying to scare her into giving him what he wanted and she wouldn’t budge.
She would continue to make Colour by Dreams one of Melbourne’s most prominent galleries—if she scraped up enough money over the next few months to pay her sky-rocketing overheads—and face the lease renewal when it came up.
‘By that horrified look on your face, I’m guessing you’re not too keen on the idea.’
Ariel tucked her legs tighter and folded her arms, inadequate defence mechanisms against the onslaught of trouble she was facing.
‘Your powers of deduction are amazing. I’m not surprised you’re such a great businessman.’
‘Don’t!’
Cooper stood abruptly and strode to a window, his gaze fixed on some faraway spot, though what he found so intriguing about the run-down fence, the back neighbour’s rusted chimney flue or the pile of old easels she’d never know.
‘Don�
��t what? Call it how it is? Throw in a little sarcasm to lighten the mood? Come on, you’ve had your fun, let me have mine.’
She unfolded her legs in one smooth movement and stood, joining him at the window to gaze out at the tiny square patch of backyard, the same patch she’d curled up in eighteen years earlier on that freezing winter’s night when she’d been so famished, so light-headed, she hadn’t been able to take another step.
‘This is a business proposal. It’s nothing personal,’ he said, not turning to acknowledge her, not moving a muscle.
Not personal?
She could quite happily sock him in the nose for that one. Everything about this low-down deal was personal.
Taking away her home? Personal.
Ruining her dreams? Personal.
Making her break a promise to the one woman who had ever taken a chance on her? Personal.
Destroying her plans to continue Barb’s work in fostering local talent and helping street kids as she’d once been? Personal, personal, personal!
Whirling to face him, she grabbed hold of his arm, forcing him to look at her. ‘You just don’t get it, do you? Look around. Tell me what you see.’
At least she finally got a reaction out of him, a tiny frown indenting his forehead.
‘Do it!’ she said, tugging on his arm when he didn’t move. ‘Go on, describe what you see.’
After a long pause, he turned to face the studio and she dropped her hand, determinedly ignoring the heat scorching her palm.
‘Big room. Polished boards. Two red sofas. Sparkly cushions. Heap of art stuff. Fancy material which could be curtains.’ His flat, deadpan voice suited his flat, deadpan description perfectly and her heart sank further.
She’d known they were worlds apart with little common ground but she’d hoped he might’ve developed some aesthetic sense over the last few weeks, some idea of what she was about and where she was at.
She’d been wrong.
About everything.
Including her warped, messed-up feelings that she might actually like this guy. She’d thought once she knocked back his stupid business proposal they might actually have a chance at being more than friends.
