She waited until Amanda gave him her business card and he climbed back in his car and drove away. She tugged on Amanda’s sleeve to get her attention. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Oh, I’m fine, Zoe, really. Considering that the accident was totally my fault that guy was pretty reasonable. When he first got out of his car he wore such a scowl, I was afraid he was going to read me the riot act.”
“Not if I had anything to say about it,” Zoe huffed.
Amanda grinned. “Yeah, it was like watching a Chihuahua challenging a Great Dane. He was at least six-two and you barely clear five-feet-three.”
“Yeah, but he was one hot mess, don’t you think?” Zoe elbowed her in the ribs.
“Objectively speaking, I’d have to agree with you. Are you looking to find a replacement for Jeff?”
“No, you fool. I was sizing him up for you.”
“Well, don’t waste your time. I’m not interested. What you should be considering is the event planning business I suggested earlier.”
“I know, I know. Now that Jeff convinced Russell Manheim to do a major show here, he’ll expect me to pull out all the stops advertising. Having a top-notch artist offer us an exclusive showing of his work won’t mean diddly if I can’t put together enough money for decent advance notices. After all the work Jeff and I put into this place my bank account is on life-support and the new heater turned my credit card into a useless square of plastic. I only need a few thousand dollars, but it might as well be a few million.” Zoe watched hope flare to life in Amanda’s eyes.
“Think about the Wyndham party, Zoe. I know we’d be an awesome team.” She gave Zoe another hug and slid into her car.
Zoe waved and went inside, shivering from the brief exposure to the chill off Chesapeake Bay. Without a single customer for the rest of the day, she had plenty of time to ponder Mandy’s suggestion. By the time she closed, she realized she had no other viable option. She called her friend and accepted her offer.
She wouldn’t tell Jeff about this side business. She didn’t want him to realize how desperate her situation was. He might decide to try to find space in a gallery in Baltimore. His paintings were so good she doubted he’d have trouble, especially with his friendship with Russell Manheim as an ace in his pocket.
She squared her shoulders and glanced around the gallery. She wasn’t about to let her lifelong dream go down without a fight. If Amanda thought they could do this event planning thing together, she’d give it her best shot. But Amanda’s enthusiasm didn’t quell her misgivings completely.
“You look gorgeous, babe. All sultry and gypsy-like.”
Zoe paced through the gallery, dressed in a long denim skirt, white poet’s blouse, and snug black vest. She had gold hoops in her ears and sweat on her palms. Jeff had picked the worst possible time to drop by with a few more paintings.
This afternoon Amanda and she were going to Mrs. Wyndham’s home to give their pitch for planning her big birthday party. A pitch she fully expected would be turned down flat by the sleek, sophisticated woman with the mercurial temperament.
That they had gotten this far was solely due to Amanda’s existing relationship with the Wyndhams and her ability to project an aura of competence and professionalism despite being one of the two newest event planners on the planet.
Zoe barely remembered her first visit to ‘The Cottage’ due to an extreme set of nerves. Displays of wealth and power had always intimidated her and Mrs. Wyndham had both in spades. She did remember almost spilling the cup of tea Mrs. Wyndham had handed to her. After that faux pas, she folded her hands in her lap, kept her mouth shut and attempted to fade into the background. Amanda had done the convincing that got them a shot at landing the biggest bash Blue Point Cove had ever seen. If they were successful their fee would get both of them out of red ink for months to come.
“I thought I might cash in that Christmas present you gave me, sweet cheeks.” Jeff leaned against the counter, his clay-spattered jeans and faded Eagles T-shirt outlining his trim physique.
Ordinarily his tousled hair and smoldering gaze would have her imagining a delightful afternoon spent in bed. Jeff could wheedle a lot of things out of her, but posing nude today was not going to be one of them.
“I told you, Jeff, it’s not happening this afternoon. Don’t ask me again.”
“Aw, come on, babe. Just an hour or so. I won’t be long, I promise.” He reached out and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I’ll keep the studio really warm, put on that music you like . . .”
Zoe batted his hand away. “What part of ‘no’ don’t you understand? For the last time, I will not pose in the nude for you today. I have too much to do.” She glanced up and saw Amanda trying not to smile as she pretended an interest in one of Jeff’s sea-life sculptures. “I gotta go. Which means you have to go, too. I’m locking up for an hour to . . .” she mumbled “. . . to run an errand.”
Jeff straightened away from the glass case. “Okay, sweet cheeks, we’ll finish this discussion later.” He brushed a thumb over her cheekbone and turned to leave.
“The discussion is finished,” Zoe declared to his retreating back. She rolled her eyes and huffed.
“He seems pretty determined.” Amanda couldn’t hide a grin.
Zoe’s dark-brown eyes flashed with annoyance. “The man does have a boat-load of sex appeal, but when he gets a wild hair about seeing me naked, I’m supposed to drop everything and strip so he can do sketches for the secret project he won’t let me see. In fact I’m beginning to believe his real interest in me is modeling. The sex part is just his way of getting me to agree to pose. It’s not like he hasn’t seen me naked in bed a few times, for pity’s sake.”
“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 si
ngle 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.
His By Design Page 16
