“Aunt Alice didn’t like having guests. You wouldn’t know it if you went by, she’d treat you like royalty, but inside, she hated it. I missed her, and I wanted to see her, but I knew that it made her anxious, just like leaving her apartment made her anxious. So I gave her a computer, got her all set up and we emailed every day.”
Lucy perked up at the last part. “You spoke to her every day?” How could she not know that? And why didn’t she realize company made Alice uncomfortable? She’d never said a word about it to her.
Oliver nodded. “Aunt Alice was a complicated woman, although few knew it. Since you asked me a question, I’ll ask you one. How much do you really know about my aunt?”
Lucy opened her mouth to answer, but when she thought about it, she realized she didn’t have that much to say. “We shared a common love of art. She liked Chinese takeout from the place a few blocks away. She only drank hot tea with cream and one lump of sugar.” There, she stopped. Most of the things she could think of were inconsequential, like being an early riser and watching Jeopardy! every weeknight.
“Now that I’m thinking of it, I guess she never really shared that much about herself. Not really. She never talked about her family or her childhood. I don’t know if she ever worked or married or anything else. When I told you I didn’t know anything about her will or how much money she had, it was true. We never talked about things like that.”
“Aunt Alice never married,” he began. “My father told me once, a long time ago, that she’d been in love with a young man in the forties. Unfortunately, he got shipped off to World War II right after they got engaged and never came home. She never dated anyone else, to my great-grandfather’s dismay. He constantly thrust well-to-do men in front of her, hoping to secure business deals or strengthen ties, but you know her. She had none of it. I guess she never got over losing her first love.”
Lucy sat back in her seat and frowned. “That’s horrible. There’s an old black-and-white photograph of a soldier in a frame beside her bed. That must be his picture.”
Oliver nodded. “She got used to being alone, I think, and when everything else happened, she just decided it was better to be alone.”
“What do you mean by ‘when everything else happened’?”
“The terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001. It affected every New Yorker differently, but the whole thing really shook her up. She was supposed to go downtown to meet with a financial advisor later that morning. Then she turned on the news and realized what was happening. If her appointment had been an hour or two earlier, she would’ve been in the North Tower of the World Trade Center when the first plane hit. It scared the hell out of her. She never set foot out of her apartment again.”
Lucy’s jaw dropped as Oliver spoke. All this time, she’d been pointing fingers at him and his family for not visiting or even knowing Alice at all, when in truth, Lucy didn’t know her either. Of course, she’d wondered why Alice never left the apartment, but it seemed rude to ask, so she never did. Some people developed agoraphobia without any particular incident at onset.
“What was she like before that?” she asked, suddenly curious about the friend and employer she knew so little about.
Oliver smiled, the sharp features of his face softening. “She was fun. After my mother died, sometimes my father would leave Harper and me with her for an afternoon while he worked. She would take us to the park or the zoo. The art museums, of course. She never worried about getting dirty or eating too much junk. As kids, we thought she was the greatest aunt in the world. It wasn’t until we got older that we realized she was going out less and less. She was getting older, too, but I think she was feeling less comfortable out in the city. The attacks were the last nail in the coffin for her, I think. She decided it was safer to stay inside. And in time, she wanted less and less company, until she was almost completely closed off from the world.”
“Why?”
“Fear, I guess. It’s odd considering she seemed like the most fearless and exciting person I’d ever known. I sometimes wonder what she would’ve been like if her fiancé hadn’t died. If she’d had a family. Would she still have closed herself off the way she did? I don’t know. I hated it, though. I hated seeing that light in her extinguish.”
The waiter appeared with their tray of meat and started to cook the first portion on the grill, effectively ending that line of conversation. Lucy was glad. Learning about Alice was enlightening, but also sad. There was a good reason why her employer hadn’t talked about her past. She’d lost her chance at love and chosen to spend the rest of her life alone rather than be with someone else. Whether it was incredibly romantic or just sad, Lucy didn’t know. But at the rate her love life was going, she might end up alone, too.
The server expertly flipped the meat, putting the finished pieces on their plates and explaining the different sides she’d been eyeing earlier. Once he was gone, they started eating and Oliver tossed a few raw pieces of Korean short ribs onto the grill to eat next.
Lucy watched him as he ate, thinking about their interactions since Alice died. She was a little ashamed of herself after everything she’d said and done. Yes, he was determined to prove she was a scam artist, but what did he know of her? Nothing. And she knew nothing of him. Or Alice, apparently. But she could tell that he had genuinely cared for his aunt. He couldn’t fake the affection that reflected in his blue eyes when he spoke about her.
“Oliver, I want to apologize.”
He paused, his food hanging midair on the end of his fork. “Apologize for what?”
“For judging you so harshly. For judging your whole family. All these years, I had this burning resentment for all of you. Sometimes I’d see Alice sitting in her chair looking at family photos and it ate me up inside that no one ever came to visit. She seemed so lonely and I felt like everyone had abandoned her for some reason.”
Lucy shook her head and felt her cheeks start to flush with embarrassment. When she tilted her head up and looked him in the eye, the softness of his expression took away the last of her worries. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected from Oliver, but it wasn’t patience and understanding.
“That’s why I lashed out at the reading of the will. When all these people showed up after her death, it felt like circling sharks drawn by chum in the water. Now I realize that it was how Alice wanted it. Or at least, how she needed it to be. So I’m sorry for anything ugly I said to you about all that.”
Oliver held her gaze for a moment before smiling and popping a bite of food into his mouth. “It was an easy assumption to make,” he said after swallowing. “I think we’re all guilty of doing that to some extent, don’t you?”
His gaze was fixed on her, with almost a pleading expression on his face. He wasn’t going to apologize for the things he’d accused her of, but maybe this was his way of acknowledging that perhaps he’d judged her too harshly as well. It didn’t mean he was going to call off his lawyers, but maybe he wouldn’t show up at the apartment to give her the third degree any longer.
“A truce, then?” Lucy asked, lifting her soda and holding her breath. While she would be glad to put an end to the fighting, she worried what could happen between the two of them without it keeping them apart. It was a dangerous proposition, but a part of her was anxious for him to say yes.
Oliver smiled and lifted his wine to clink her glass. “A truce.”
Six
“Welcome, Mr. Drake. So good of you to join us this evening.”
Oliver strolled into the Museum of Modern Art and stopped as he was greeted by a table of committee members organizing the charity event. The older woman who stood to welcome him looked familiar, but he couldn’t place her.
“I am so sorry to hear about your aunt,” she said. “She was a valued patron to the museum and the art world as a whole.”
He nodded politely. “Thank you.” Turning to the table where a
young male volunteer was checking off guests on the attendee list, he leaned in. “Can you tell me if Miss Campbell has already arrived?”
“She has.” The young man beamed. Apparently he was a fan of her new outfit, too.
“Thank you.”
They directed him up the short staircase to the second-floor atrium where the main portion of the event was taking place. At the top of the stairs, a waiter with a large silver tray offered him a flute of champagne, and he accepted. This type of event was not his idea of a good time, but at least there was alcohol involved. It helped to open people’s pocketbooks, he was fairly certain.
The wide-open room with white walls that reached for the sky was dominated by a large pyramidal sculpture in the center. He was ashamed to admit he hadn’t been to the museum since it had been redone years ago. A couple hundred or so people milled around the space, chatting and sipping their drinks. A band was playing in a corner of the room, but no one was dancing yet. The far wall was peppered with special pieces that his invitation said were being offered on silent auction to raise funds for the nearby LaGuardia High School of Music & Art and Performing Arts.
It didn’t take long for Oliver to locate Lucy in the crowd. His eyes were immediately drawn to the crimson red of her dress that stood out amongst the sedate blacks, tans and whites of the people who accepted what the saleswoman pushed on them without question. The outfit looked equally stunning tonight, although now it was paired with elegantly styled hair, glittering jewelry and flawless makeup.
Altogether, it made for a woman he simply couldn’t ignore. His body was drawn to her, urging him to cross the room and join her immediately. The only thing that held him in place was his desire to prolong the anticipation.
He enjoyed watching her chat with a couple about the large Monet that dominated an entire wall of the museum. Oliver could tell she hadn’t spied him at the gala yet. When she knew he was nearby, there was something about her that changed. A stiffness, almost as though she were holding her breath when he was around. He wasn’t sure if she was just more guarded, he made her nervous or if the palpable attraction between them simply caused her to be uncomfortable in his presence.
At the moment, she was sipping her champagne, smiling and speaking animatedly with a couple he recognized from other events around town. He liked watching her with her guard down. It was a side of her he’d never gotten to see, not even in the past when they’d called a truce or shared a kiss. That was his own fault, he supposed, but it made him want to know more about this side of Lucy. Perhaps it was the last piece of the puzzle he was missing.
Oliver watched as the couple finally dismissed themselves to say hello to someone else, leaving Lucy standing awkwardly alone. She bit at her lip, the confident facade crumbling without the distraction of conversation. Now was his chance. He moved through the crowd of people to join her.
When their eyes met, Oliver felt a jolt of electricity run through him. Lucy smiled wide as he came closer, possibly relieved to see someone she knew. He could imagine that being in this situation and knowing almost no one must be quite intimidating. When she attended for Alice, she could fade into the background, but with that dress, she couldn’t hide from anyone. A familiar face, even his, would be cause for excitement. Or maybe, just maybe, she was happy to see him.
“Good evening, Miss Campbell,” he said with a wide smile of his own. Lately just the thought of her brought a grin to his face. As his gaze flicked over her beauty up close, he wished he hadn’t waited so long to approach her. “You’re looking lovely tonight.”
Lucy blushed almost as red as her dress. “Thank you. I didn’t expect to see you here this evening. I don’t recall running into you at any of the events I attended for your aunt. I thought you weren’t much of a fan of art.”
Oliver shrugged. He wasn’t about to say he’d only come because her might see her. “I’m always invited, but I usually have other engagements. Tonight was for a good cause and I had time, so I dusted off my tuxedo and came down.”
Her gaze ran over his Armani tux for a moment with appreciation before she awkwardly turned away to glance at the art display across the room. “Have you looked at the pieces they have for sale tonight? There’s some really lovely ones if you’re looking to add to your personal collection.”
“I haven’t.” The moment he’d seen her, the rest of the museum had faded into the background.
Oliver politely offered his arm and escorted Lucy to the other side of the atrium where maybe twenty-five paintings and sculptures were set up with silent auction sheets posted at each.
“Some of these were done by students at the school and others are donated by local artists. These kids show so much promise for their age. It’s amazing.”
He knew at this point he could let her arm go, but he didn’t. He liked the feel of her against his side. A lot. “Did you ever have a desire to be an artist yourself?”
“Oh no,” Lucy said with a nervous chuckle. “I love to look at it, to study it, but I can’t draw a stick figure. I mean look at this one.” She gestured toward a large painting of the Manhattan skyline with the Brooklyn Bridge stretching across the foreground. “This piece gets more amazing the longer you study it.”
Oliver stepped closer to try to figure out what distinguished the piece from every other one they sold on street corners around the city. It was only when he got a foot or so away that he could see the image wasn’t painted, but actually made up of millions of tiny hearts. Only from far away did the colored hearts make up the image of the city.
“The artist loves New York,” Lucy continued. “The painting practically screams it. The color palette she chose, the light in the sky...it’s a very well-balanced piece.”
“It sounds like you really like this one. You should buy it,” Oliver suggested. Part of him was waiting for her to start spending his aunt’s money. Where was the joy in achieving one’s goal when they couldn’t enjoy it? He leaned in to look at the current bid. It was well within her means if the windfall went through. “It’s only up to ten thousand dollars right now. If this artist is half as talented as you think she is at seventeen, this painting will be worth triple that one day. It’s a great investment.”
Lucy laughed off his suggestion and he realized how much he liked that sound. Arguing with her was fun, but he much preferred this version of his aunt’s companion.
“You’re just as bad as Harper,” she said. “Counting chickens that may never hatch, no thanks to you. As far as I’m concerned, I have no money. Just some savings that have taken me the past five years to accumulate. I’m certainly not spending it on art when I may have no place to live in a few weeks’ time.”
Oliver felt a momentary pang of guilt. He’d taken the fun out of this moment for her. How different would it be tonight if he hadn’t contested the will? Would he be the one there for her when she made her first big purchase? “But what if you did? What if you had all those millions at your disposal right now?”
Lucy’s crimson-painted lips twisted in thought. “I haven’t given it much thought. But in this case, since it was for charity, I would consider buying it. I would at least bid. But otherwise I would just feel too guilty spending that much money on something like that.”
Oliver couldn’t help a confused frown. He turned to look at her with a furrowed brow. “My aunt spent a hundred times that on a single piece. Why would you feel guilty doing the same? It’s your money to spend however you want to.”
Lucy pulled away from him and the painting and started toward the staircase that led up to other exhibits. Oliver caught up and took her arm again, in part to be a gentleman and in part because he liked the feel of her so near to him. The moment she moved from his side, it felt like a cold emptiness sidled up against him. He was eager to feel the warmth of her skin and smell the scent of her perfume again. It was a soft fragrance, like a garden after the rain, that made him w
ant to draw it deep into his lungs.
“It’s not my money,” she said after quite a few steps. “It’s Alice’s money. And if by some stroke of luck it does become mine, I couldn’t just blow it on whatever suits me. It was a gift and I need to cherish it. Do something good with it. Help people.”
Curious. He’d never once spoken to someone who felt like money was a kind of burden of responsibility. Especially someone who’d schemed to get the money in the first place. “You could give it all to charity, I suppose. But Alice could’ve done that herself. She gave it to you for a reason. I wish I knew what that reason was.”
Lucy stopped on the landing and turned to him with an understanding expression softening her features. “So do I. It would make things easier for everyone if she’d let us in on her little secret, don’t you think?”
Her words rang true in Oliver’s ears, making his stomach start to ache. Had he made the wrong call with her? He’d started spending time around Lucy with the intention of finding out what she was really about and all he’d uncovered was a woman who seemed kind, thoughtful, caring and intelligent. She was attractive as well, but didn’t seem too concerned with that.
Either she was one of the greatest con artists he’d ever met or he was way off base with this whole thing.
“This is my favorite part of the museum,” she said, letting their prior discussion drop.
They had stopped on the surrealism floor. They started wandering through bizarre sculptures and even more bizarre paintings. “Your favorite, eh? Myself, I just don’t get it,” Oliver said, gesturing to the large painting hanging on the wall just ahead of them. “This one, for example.”
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