by Alice Ward
Oh shit, what did he do now?
“I’m sorry, what money?” I asked, bracing myself for the answer.
“I think it’s all well explained here in the note that Kembrough Preston emailed me this morning,” he remarked, obviously overjoyed.
I glanced at the email and immediately started to feel sick.
“To the Director of the Youth Center for the Arts Foundation,
I am sending a cashier’s check for five million dollars over by messenger within the hour. I would appreciate either you or someone able to handle such an item signing for the package. Also, if you could let me know when you’ve received the check, I would be ever so grateful. I was inspired by your employee, Caitlyn Ashcroft, and her undying commitment to the work you do. I am an avid believer that every child, given an opportunity, can reach the greatest heights of achievement with proper inspiration and training. I am very impressed with the work you do for the children of our community, and I wanted to help support your institution. I hope that this will assist your group in reaching out to as many students as needed. I intend to also discuss an annual scholarship fund for graduating seniors going to college. I would be happy to have my assistant arrange a meeting, please contact her at the numbers below. Give my regards to Ms. Ashcroft and commend her again for her loyalty, commitment, and care she gives your students. I must admit, I was very impressed.
Best Regards,
Kembrough Preston, KP.
I almost fell over. What was this? He hardly knew me. He didn’t know me. What game was he trying to play?
“We just got the check before you arrived. I’m amazed and so grateful. Thank you for speaking to KP on our behalf. We are all so excited, you have no idea what this will do for the center and our students, and future students. It’s mind-boggling, and all I can do right now is just say how grateful I am.” Now, he was crying.
Shit!
“Um, yeah. I didn’t really do anything, but this is amazing. I’m really glad. Now, we can get supplies and...” I was trying to show my excitement.
He continued for me, “Expand to include more students, maybe add a sports program.” His head was buzzing with ideas as he imagined all the money could afford them.
Me on the other hand, I felt like I was going to pass out. What did KP want from me? Surely he didn’t need to try this hard to get laid.
“It’s really thrilling,” was all I could add.
“Have you two been friends a long time?” he asked casually.
Bile surged into my throat, but I swallowed it back. “I hardly know him.”
“Well, he’s on his way over. I thought it would be nice if he met the kids and then we could thank you both.” His face flashed a kindhearted smile.
I died. He was on his way? From New York? Oh my god. Before I had time to pick myself up off the floor, I heard the tap of expensive shoes on the linoleum. My heart exploded. I tried to stabilize my breathing but couldn’t. Was it him? A few short moments later, the answer came walking into the office with the front desk attendant. I was breathless.
“Ah, Mr. Preston,” the director stood and shook KP’s hand, “it is an honor.”
The man of my dreams and nightmares extended his hand and accepted the handshake.
“Please call me KP,” he said coolly, then eyed me.
I smiled nervously. I wanted my smile to look cool and “piss-off-you-ogreish” but I just felt like I’d shit myself.
“Mr. Preston.” I nodded.
He smiled. His eyes met mine with the same intensity we always shared. It was if we had found each other over the millenia of time. While he angered me, his eyes were always comforting. When he regarded me, I knew there was something more in there, something no one else could see. I just doubted it. I was in no position to have any power over those observations though, I was too nervous.
“You too, please just call me KP. I prefer it,” he said kindly, without any note of lecherousness.
“Of course. Well, we are so happy to have you here…” the director went on to gush and guffaw, allowing me to step back and watch KP.
I think he knew that I was looking at him. He was tall and strong and always looked so well put together in his expensive suits. He oozed power and control. I tried to see past the plastic facade of a movie mogul who made people tremble, into a deeper place within him. A human place. I saw a glimpse, a tiny glimmer as he genuinely engaged with some of the younger kids. One boy in particular had a very visible burn scar on his face. KP seemed drawn to that boy and there it was, that tiny glint of humanity I was searching for. It was gone, though, after the boy darted off with some other children. Plastic-face-man returned.
The program director gave him a mini speech about what he was planning to do with the generous amount of money KP donated. As we walked around the buildings, he showed us what the students were learning. KP must have been bored out of his mind, but he never showed it, keeping a plastic expression of interest firmly planted on his face.
When we got to my class, there was a roar of excitement as the students greeted me. They all clamored around me, trying to show their work. A big assignment was due that day and most were eager to show me what they had been working on. I responded to them the way I always had, with enthusiasm and encouragement. To me, this was like every other day. A lot of the students showed tremendous potential. In fact, some were extremely gifted. I, luckily, was able to lose myself in my students, which helped me forget that KP was watching me.
When we were done with the students, the program director offered to take us to lunch but KP declined the offer politely and said that he’d already made plans. I felt both relieved and disappointed when KP kindly excused himself from our meeting. I was left unsure of what my next move might be.
I looked at the director and smiled. “I should probably get to the hospital to see Gran. I only had the one class today.”
“Sure thing, give her my best. And Cait, thank you again.” He smiled kindly.
“No problem.”
As I was leaving, I got a text message: Meet me outside – KP
On shaky legs, I walked out the front door to find him standing next to his Bentley, his driver at the wheel.
“Hello.”
I had to look away from those eyes and what they did to me. “How did you get my phone number?”
“I have my ways,” he said in a playfully sinister tone.
A smile played at my lips. “Oh.”
I was ready to surrender, only because I was tired of fighting him. I had been wrestling with my attraction to him for so long, I felt like giving him a chance to speak his mind was a fair thing to consider.
“Nothing too scandalous. Your business cards are at the City Gallery.”
Right, I had forgotten about those, stupid publicity and marketing department.
I decided to be honest but not unkind. “What do you want from me?”
“I want a chance to get to know you, that’s all.” He seemed equally as honest.
“Why?” I needed to know, once and for all.
“You fascinate me. And truthfully, outside of the fact that you’re gorgeous, I really don’t know why. I’ve been trying to figure that out.”
His attempt at sincerity might have been working.
“What do you want to know?” I sounded abrasive, even though I hadn’t meant to.
“First, will you have lunch with me?”
“I thought you had lunch plans.” Again, with the abrasive bitchiness.
I had to get some control over my feelings. He looked at me, deeply.
“With you. I made lunch plans hoping you’d join me,” he confessed.
“You didn’t need to spend five million dollars just to get me to go to lunch with you,” I scolded.
He seemed so nervous, it was endearing. “So, will you join me for lunch?”
My stomach twisted as all the emotions I was feeling churned around. “Yes.”
He blew out a breath. “Then appa
rently I did.”
I frowned and got my panties in a wad. With only a few words, I was ready to throw a verbal punch.
I laid into him. “I can’t be bought—”
He held up his hands, interrupting me. “It was a joke… just a joke. I spent it on the kids. It’s a good cause. I’m, um… I…”
Oh good, he was flustered.
“It was very generous. Where do you want to go for lunch?” I was nervous too, but ready to do this.
“I know a great place,” he said with a gorgeous smile that made his eyes sparkle.
The short car ride to the seafood restaurant was awkward at best. He offered me some water and juice from his mini fridge. I decided to make light of the amenity, rolling my eyes while I refused his offer.
“Why do you need a refrigerator?”
“I spend a lot of time in the car,” he answered as he braced himself for my attack.
“Why?” I asked again.
“I like snacks,” he playfully confessed.
I laughed despite myself.
“I mean, why do you spend so much time in the car? I thought a high-profile movie guy like you would spend a lot of time in the office.” I tried to act like I knew what I was talking about, but I had no clue.
“I spend more time than I would like in the office, but on the weekends, I drive out to Connecticut. My brother lives out there, and I see him every week. I have specific tastes and your average roadside gas station market usually doesn’t carry the types of foods I prefer.”
I gave him a point for maintaining his amicable demeanor.
“No seared salmon and caviar at the quick mart?” I teased.
He grinned. “Sadly, no.”
We went a few moments without speaking, which increased the tension and was making me crazy. I wasn’t sure if it was intentional on his part, as he was supposed to be such a schmoozer, but he might have been afraid of saying something that would have me jumping out on the expressway. Or punching him in the nose.
“You don’t have to buy all of my art, you know? In fact, you don’t have to buy any of it. I’m serious, I can’t be bought. I don’t work like that. If you want to talk to me, I’m here.”
“I actually love your art. I’m getting a bargain,” he said casually, again looking at me with those eyes that understood my very being.
If I was going to feel good about myself and how I handled this situation, then I shouldn’t act like a wilting flower one moment and a kick-ass Ninja the next. I had to get real with him. I had to get some answers.
“Why? Why me? Why my art? Did you make a bet with someone? Are you trying to see if you can My Fair Lady me into something I’m not? What’s the point of this crazy… whatever this is?” I was so ready for answers.
He stared at me for a beat as the car pulled into the parking lot of the most expensive restaurant in New Haven.
“I don’t really know, Caitlyn. Everything that comes out of my mouth sounds wrong, so I’ll be as honest as I can. When I saw you at the diner that night, I thought you were gorgeous and I wanted to do anything I could to entice you to come home with me. And yes, have sex with me. Since that obviously isn’t working out the way I planned, I wanted to get to know you better.”
I felt the need to interrupt him there. “You mean you stalked me.” I smiled and gave him a sneer at the same time.
He held up his palms. “How else would I be able to get to know you? You keep walking out on me. It’s the age of technology, stalking is so easy these days. You left me no choice.”
“Who said I wanted to get to know you?” I smiled to show I was mildly teasing.
“I’m famous.” He said it in a meekly playful way.
Okay. I had to laugh, that was ridiculous.
“Ah good, I got a laugh.” He did a fist pump, which seemed so totally out of character for him that I laughed again. “Score one for KP.”
The restaurant was amazing, as expected. We were seated, selected items from the menu, and I was at a loss for what to say next. I was relieved when he started.
“I love how you see the world. I’ve had a chance to look over your work, and while you have some technical refining to do, your instinct and natural talent are remarkable. Your paintings are worth what I’d pay for them if you allow me the opportunity.”
I started to interrupt, but he held up a finger. I snapped my mouth closed and nodded for him to continue.
“I want you to have the chance to paint without working at a place with sticky tables and grumbling coworkers. As for my donation to the center, I must thank you for that as well. I had no idea that so many children were being served by this community. Children are the future and most people just abandon the ones who are broken or who don’t meet society’s strict standards of perfection. This place gives children hope, encouragement, and a future. I didn’t really understand how important that was until I stalked you. Actually, I went so far as to read one of your graduated student’s Facebook pages and it was quite glowing and complimentary.”
It was my turn to hold up a finger and look him dead in the eye. “You know the stalking thing is a turn off, right?”
“Do you know who I am?” he asked softly.
“I don’t care who you are,” I barked.
“I didn’t ask if you cared, I asked if you knew,” he corrected.
“You’re Kembrough Preston, the famous movie whatever guy. Most people call you KP which I think is… never mind.”
He laughed. “See, you stalked me too.”
I bristled. “I didn’t stalk you. Everyone knows who you are. I actually didn’t know anything about you, but everyone else sure does,” I fired back.
“See, even you had a better chance of dating me than I did of dating you, because at least you knew who I was. I had to resort to stalking… you should feel sorry for me,” he fake pouted.
He got me again, and I laughed.
I forced myself to be serious again. “I still won’t have sex with you even though you donated money to the center and bought all my paintings, and I expect you’ll pay for this meal. Even with all of that, I’ll walk away with my virtue. Sex is completely off the table.”
“Well, if you take my offer to buy your paintings, I might expect you to pay for this meal.” He leaned forward, his eyes sweeping over my face. “I absolutely want to have sex with you, badly, but you’ve said no, so I’m obliged to honor your decision. I’m not into forcing women, nor am I into anything that involves whips and chains. If you think I’m fifty shades of anything, it’s simply selfish. I’m used to getting what I want.”
My lips parted and his eyes dropped to them. “Oh.”
“I’ve invited you to lunch for another reason,” he added, sounding like a businessman.
I cocked my head. “And that is?”
“I hope the gallery mentioned that I wanted to commission a painting.” He was still businesslike, but softened some.
I stiffened, still feeling skeptical. “Yes. And…”
He took a deep breath. He seemed off-center. It was weird to see this commanding and cocky billionaire look unhinged.
“You see, I have a younger brother. Our family has a lot of money. Actually, an unfathomable amount of money. We have these pretentious portraits in our great room and they are quite, um… impressive, I guess. We have one for every family member going back generations. Typical haunted mansion stuff.”
I smiled. “I’d heard that families of distinction actually do get portraits with their dogs and golf clubs and things of this nature. The painting is meant to be a reflection of the person and their interests.”
He nodded. “Right. It’s an unwritten law of sorts that each member of a moneyed family have a portrait prominently featured. Every one of my family members has had one or more portraits made, but him. I want his painted.”
“That’s weird. Why doesn’t he have a portrait?” I asked innocently.
“We’ll need to discuss that sometime in the future, if you d
on’t mind.” Oh, I hit a hot spot. Must remember that for the future: family drama.
“Why won’t the painter you’ve used in the past do it?” I asked.
“I want someone with your eye, your sensitivity, and honestly, I want my brother to meet you.”
“Is there something wrong with your brother?” I asked, hoping it wasn’t rude.
He sighed and his expression changed. Tenderness would probably be the best word. “Not wrong exactly, but he’s special.”
Our meal came and we dug in. He and I enjoyed the best wine I’d ever tasted, and by the end of our lunch, I agreed to do the painting. I also accepted his offer to buy my work. I wasn’t sure what I was getting myself into, but I was willing to take this adventure.
Throughout our lunch, KP had shown respect. He treated me with dignity and listened attentively as I talked about the inspiration for my work. I explained how my observations of people in society sparked my interest in expressing their humanity in a raw and sometimes dark way.
He smiled and said he hoped that I would find some happier inspiration soon. Of course, he was alluding to a possible relationship with him, but I let the comment slide. I hoped he understood that to mean that I still wasn’t interested.
I made sure to thank him for the opportunity to quit working at the diner. I explained the money would afford me the chance to focus my attention on Gran and shared her health problems. Maybe it was the wine, but I also opened up about school and how I’d been saving to attend.
“What about your family?” he asked.
“It’s not something I’m comfortable sharing,” I explained.
