“Oh, Zoe, everything looks wonderful. You’ve got quite a crowd, too. Fantastic.” She hugged Zoe, who almost dumped the remaining glasses of bubbly on the floor. “Oops, sorry! How about if I take over the champagne duty so you can chat with your customers?”
“Would you? You’re an angel. Put your coat in the back room, down at least one glass to fortify yourself and come on back.”
“Uh, miss?” A middle-aged couple took the last two glasses from her tray and the woman pointed to Jeff’s painting of ‘their’ cove. “We love this work. Can you tell us anything about the artist? The canvas is signed J. Petrosky, but I don’t recognize the name.”
“Yes, this and those other canvases”—Zoe nodded toward the opposite wall—“are all from a new artist we are delighted to show for the first time. It’s wonderful, don’t you agree?” Zoe craned her neck to see over the crowd but at five-foot-three, craning didn’t do much good. Where was that man? She returned her attention to the couple. “The artist is here. Somewhere. I’ll see if I can find him and introduce you.”
“Oh, that would be wonderful,” the lady gushed. “We seldom get to know the artists whose works we buy, so this will be a special treat.”
“You’re interested in purchasing a piece, then?” Zoe crossed her fingers behind her back.
“Indeed.” The male half of the couple spoke for the first time. “I’m Harry Campbell and this is my wife, Henrietta. We particularly enjoy helping new artists and this work is exceptional. I’m so glad we took a chance and drove here from D.C.”
Zoe’s smile widened. “I am as well. Can I ask how you heard about us?” Finding out which ads brought in the most customers would help her place future notices.
“Well, we’d been browsing in a gallery downtown when the owner came over and suggested we take a look at this place.” The man nodded in appreciation. “Yes, we’ll have to thank him for the tip, won’t we, Henny?”
“Oh, yes, Mr. Barker mentioned that he knew you and that the trip would be well worth our time. He was absolutely right.” She beamed at Zoe.
“Yes, that was very kind of him. I-I’ll, uh, be back in a moment.”
Zoe made a beeline to the office, where she found Amanda and Jeff filling another tray with glasses of champagne. She snatched one and downed it, then crumpled into her desk chair.
“Zoe, what’s the matter? You’re shaking like a leaf.” Amanda shot a look over her head at Jeff, who mirrored her concern.
“It’s nothing. I’m fine, really. Simply opening day nerves.” She blew out a breath and pointed at Jeff. “You need to get out there. I’ve had several people comment on your paintings and there’s a couple out there right now waiting to meet you. They’re going to buy one, Jeff, so go make nice and maybe they’ll buy two.” She managed a shaky smile. “Mr. and Mrs. Campbell. Harry and Henrietta. The silver-haired pair practically swooning over the cove painting.”
“Are you sure you’re all right?”
She sensed his concern was mostly a ploy to delay speaking to the Campbells. She shooed him emphatically toward the front. “Go. Go! I’m fine, I tell you. Do you want to sell anything or not?”
That got him moving, though the expression he wore more closely resembled a politician about to give his first speech. Dutiful, but wary.
“All right,” Amanda said. “Jeff’s gone. Now tell me what has you in such a state.”
Zoe started in on another flute of champagne. “I asked that couple how they’d heard about the gallery.” She finished the second flute. “They told me another gallery owner in D.C. mentioned it to them and suggested it would be worth their while to take the ride over here and see us.” She grimaced. “It was Barker.”
Amanda appeared puzzled. “I know you’re not the best of friends, Zoe, but still, it was awfully nice of him to point some patrons in your direction.”
“I suppose so. I didn’t think he would do something like that, though. And now I’m wondering if he’s going to show up himself.” She tried to hide the shudder that traveled down her back. She grabbed Amanda’s hand. “If he does come, promise me you won’t leave me alone with him? Please?”
“Of course, if that’s what you want.” Amanda’s frown deepened.
“It is. Thanks.” Zoe released her grip and got to her feet. “I’m going back out there. Are you okay with these?” She gestured to the tray full of goblets.
“No problem. I’m right behind you.”
By five o’clock that evening they’d had almost a hundred people come through their doors. Several of the artisans held court near the displays of their works and Zoe had rung up over twenty sales—four of which were Jeff’s and two of her own. She was beyond delighted, especially since it appeared Fredrick was not going to show.
They would stay open until eight and the Christmas lights along Main Street, coupled with glasses of the bubbly, amplified the holiday spirit of her patrons. Gift buying was in full swing.
Marjorie finally appeared and was pleased to discover two of her necklaces and three pairs of earrings had sold. She sought Zoe out and hugged her.
“Thank you so much for letting me put some of my pieces here. I can’t believe you sold so much.”
“I’m not surprised, Marjorie, your work is exquisite. I was afraid you weren’t going to come over before we closed. Do you have guests staying the weekend?” Guests who might come shopping tomorrow?
“I did have a late arrival. He called to say he’d been delayed and I didn’t want to leave until he showed up.” She frowned slightly. “It was that man who came to see you the day you hurt your finger. Mr. Barker? He requested the same room you’d stayed in while you were there. It seemed a strange request but I couldn’t see any reason to refuse him so I let him have it.”
Instant nausea twisted Zoe’s stomach. She glanced around the crowded space, dreading Fredrick’s appearance but knowing it was inevitable, now. Amanda came by with her try of drinks and Zoe waved her over.
“Zoe, are you okay? You look pale as a ghost.” Amanda slid her tray onto the jewelry counter and took one of Zoe’s hands in her own. “Your hands are like ice, Zo.”
“Too much champagne. Could you keep an eye on things here for a few minutes? I need to go to the ladies’ room.”
“Of course. If you’re not back in ten minutes, I’m coming to find you,” Amanda warned.
“I’ll be back, don’t worry.” She bolted for the restroom.
Naturally it was occupied. She considered going up to her apartment, but hated to be out of touch if someone needed her, so she satisfied herself with sitting at her desk, taking deep breaths and attempting to slow her racing pulse.
She contemplated locking herself in and staying here until the gallery closed, but that was a foolish idea. If he came, and she was sure he would, she’d have to talk to him. At least there were plenty of people around.
The thought had barely formed before the door opened and Fredrick Barker entered. Her heart tripled its beats and she pushed back her chair to stand.
“Don’t get up on my account,” he said smoothly, shutting the door behind him and leaning against the hard surface.
She heard the click of the lock. The music and chatter out front was barely audible through the heavy door. Would anyone hear her if she shouted?
“It appears you’ve made a very nice beginning with the gallery, Zoe. There’s quite a crowd out there.”
He sauntered over and leaned against the corner of her desk, effectively trapping her in her chair. She could feel her pulse beat fast and hard in her throat. He’d never dare do anything with so many people close by.
Would he?
Silently she prayed for Jeff to come looking for her. In the meantime she could fake bravery as well as the next girl. She shot Fredrick a disdainful glance.
&nb
sp; “I appreciate your referrals, Fredrick. The Campbells were here earlier and purchased two canvases. Very thoughtful of you to direct some of your clients to a competitor.”
“But you’re not my competitor, darling. We both know that sooner or later we’ll be working together again.” He leered at her and leaned over as though to kiss her.
She dodged his attempt and stood, pushing him away to give her room to get around him. Anger rushed heat to her cheeks, scorn curled her lip.
“We will never be partners, Fredrick. Nor will you ever be my boss again. I’ve said it before and I’ll keep saying it until it soaks through that thick skull of yours. The seed money you lent me is all you’ll ever get from me.”
“I think not, my dear.” He grabbed her upper arms and hauled her against him, her resistance futile against his superior strength. His mouth came down on hers with crushing force, the pressure cutting the inside of her lip with her teeth. She jerked her head to the side and he transferred his attentions to her neck, kissing her below her ear then, despite her struggles, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.
Wrenching herself out of his grip, she slapped him with all her strength, leaving the imprint of her hand on the side of his face. Her palm burned from the blow.
He laughed. “Such ferocity, my dear. If you’d simply give in to what I know you want, I’m sure you’d find my attentions pleasant enough.”
The last thing she wanted was to make enough of a ruckus to attract the attention of the browsers out front but if the sleazebag didn’t give up and leave, she would have to consider making enough noise for someone to come investigate.
The doorknob rattled and Jeff called her name. Finding it locked, he knocked loudly. “Zoe! Are you in there?” The doorknob shook again.
Relief washed through her and she called, “Just a moment.” She ducked past Fredrick to turn the lock and fling the door open. Jeff looked questioningly from her to the older man, then back again. The mere sight of him steadied her enough for her to sound reasonably normal as she said, “Mr. Barker was just leaving.”
Summoning a condescending smile, Fredrick said with a sneer, “Ah, the young artist. Or is it the handyman?” He scoffed. “Full of yourself now that you’ve actually sold something, are you? I’d watch out if I were you, Mr. Petrosky.” He directed his gaze at Zoe. “I imagine you’ll have no difficulty copying his style, either, will you, dear?” Clearly sure he held the upper hand, Barker brushed past Jeff and sauntered down the hall to the gallery.
“What was that all about?”
Zoe clasped her hands together to hide their shaking, but her lips still trembled and she tasted blood from the cut her teeth had made on the inside of her mouth. She kept her gaze on her shoes until Jeff tilted her chin up. Tears swam in her eyes.
“What did he do?” Anger darkened Jeff’s blue eyes to slate. “That bastard, I’ll—” He turned for the door, and Zoe grabbed his arm.
“Don’t, Jeff. Don’t go out there,” she pleaded. “He’s just waiting for you to make a scene and ruin the opening. He pretends to want to help me but he wants me to fail. Don’t help him, please.”
She watched the muscles in his jaw twitch as he clamped his teeth together, saw his fists clench and unclench in an effort to control his rage. “I’d better not find him alone, Zoe. So help me, I’ll—”
She put a finger against his lips. “Shhh. I’m okay. Let’s not let him ruin this day, please?”
He agreed with a curt nod.
By the time they went up front, Fredrick Barker was gone.
Chapter 13
Jeff closed the front door and locked it, leaving only the security lights to cast faint illumination across the gallery floor. Zoe had already gone up to her apartment, and although he couldn’t stay long, he wanted to check on her before he left.
The business with Barker still rankled and his knuckles itched with the desire to make contact with the bastard’s face. The man’s snide remark as he exited left Jeff more confused about Zoe’s business arrangement with him. He sighed and trudged up the stairs and down the short hallway to Zoe’s door. He knocked lightly.
Zoe opened the door wearing sweat pants and an oversized T-shirt, her hair loose to cascade over her shoulders. She was a feisty woman, no doubt about it, but after what happened downstairs it was her petite fragility that held his attention tonight. She’d wormed her way into his heart and he’d do anything to protect her. Anything.
He leaned down to kiss her and she flinched from him, ever so slightly, but nonetheless he felt her hesitancy.
“Are you all right?” Was that a bruise at the corner of her mouth?
She nodded. “I’m fine. Really. Come on in.” She took his hand and led him to the sofa. “Can I get you something to drink?”
He declined with a shake of his head, and she smiled ruefully. “Yeah, me neither. Too much champagne already.” She held up the bottle of water she’d opened for herself. “The opening went well, don’t you think?”
He took a seat on the sofa. The fact that Zoe didn’t snuggle up against him as she usually did wasn’t lost on him. Something worried her and he had no doubt it was the result of Barker’s visit.
“I think it went very well, considering the number of people who showed up and the number of sales you made. You must be happy with the turnout and there should be more customers tomorrow. All those folks who shopped the big box stores today will still be curious about what you have for sale downstairs.”
“You sold three of your paintings and the unicorn statue, Jeff. I am so happy for you.” She leaned over and kissed him lightly, as if to make up for her earlier reluctance. As soon as those checks clear, I’ll cut you one for all four items. Even minus my commission, you’ll have made over ten thousand dollars. I’m surprised you aren’t more excited.”
As she set the water bottle on the coffee table her shirtsleeve slid up and Jeff caught a glimpse of purple on her upper arm. He reached over and pushed the sleeve up. Dark bruises encircled her biceps. The kind left by a brutal grip. She jerked her arm away. Pinning her with a look, he slid up the other sleeve to find a matching set of bruises.
What the hell? The bastard had grabbed her and kissed her and she hadn’t made a sound? Why hadn’t she called him? Even more concerning, why was the door locked when he came looking for her?
“Zoe, what’s really going on with Barker? He’s obviously more than simply your investor. Why did you let him put his hands on you?” He brushed his finger over the darkened corner of her mouth. “You could have called me.”
Or didn’t you want my help? Maybe you like to be manhandled? No, I don’t believe it.
On the other hand, how well did he really know her?
“I didn’t want to make a scene with all the people out front. ‘Owner Assaulted at Gallery Opening’ is not the kind of publicity I need.” She reached for her water bottle and took another swallow. Her brown eyes anguished, she met his gaze. “I never expected him to try anything physical. Before he’d only teased me about what he wanted when he won our bet.”
“Ah, the infamous bet. The business deal was your mother’s painting and sole ownership of the gallery if you didn’t pay him back on time. What else did you promise him?”
Tell me, Zoe. I won’t ever let the bastard take any more than you’re willing to give him. Trust me.
But if she couldn’t come up with the money by Barker’s deadline, would he give up his sister’s surgery funds to save her?
She shook her head. “Nothing valuable. He just wants his ego stroked.” She tossed her hair back over her shoulder. “Let’s forget about him and concentrate on the important things.” She punched him playfully on his arm. “You are going to be rich. And famous.” She smiled, though it seemed a bit forced. “I’d better sign you to an exclusive contract before you get a swe
lled head and take off for the big city lights.”
“I’ll sign anything you want,” he murmured, caressing the curve of satiny skin over her delicate cheek.
His eyes fell on the soft spot below her ear where he knew she was particularly sensitive. There was no mistaking the mark that could only have been made by a lover’s mouth. He’d never left a mark—of any kind—on her smooth skin. The discovery hit him like a sucker punch to the gut. Just how much had gone on in the back room before he knocked? Questions filled his head like a swarm of angry bees. He needed time to think, time to sort out his feelings.
“You look tired, Zoe. I know today was hectic, and tomorrow may be just as busy. I’m going to head back to my place and let you get some much-needed rest. Dad should be here tomorrow, so call me when you’re up and about and we’ll come by.” He hated that he couldn’t spend Thanksgiving with Jen, but couldn’t come up with a plausible reason to turn down Amanda’s dinner invitation. He forced a smile. “Guess I should bring a few paintings to replace what sold today, huh?”
“Absolutely.”
Her smile appeared more genuine this time, reaching her eyes and making them sparkle.
“Thanks for everything, Jeff. Today would never have gone so well without you.”
She walked him to the door and kissed him goodbye. The brief touch of her lips to his was devoid of passion and he made no effort to escalate it. Both of them had other things on their minds.
He let himself into the studio and tossed his keys on the workbench. The cold wind of his ride home had done nothing to clear his head. He forced thoughts of Zoe to the back of his mind and concentrated on the good news. He knocked on Jen’s door.
His By Design Page 13
