Shae’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. Brave woman. Or foolish? “Thank you, but—”
“I know, your dad isn’t into that sort of thing.”
“He’d see painting as some female pursuit to be avoided at all costs.” They pulled into a parking place in front of the gallery. “You’re welcome to try. Just don’t let him hurt your feelings.”
As she prepared to leave, Janice said, “I’ve really enjoyed myself today, Shae. I can’t wait to see everyone’s reaction to you in that red dress.”
“And you in your new duds.”
“I’m looking forward to this event more than ever. It should be quite a night.”
Chapter Nineteen
Though not the least bit uneasy or nervous about returning to the scene of the crime just days after the amazing night he’d spent with Shae, Ned still managed to drop his keys just after he rang the doorbell. He was still bent when the door opened. He rose, saying, “Ready for my mom’s big show?”
His voice dropped as he took in the vision before him. Brownish-red hair, aquamarine eyes. Yeah, it was Shae. But other than those telltale physical traits, the woman who stood before him in a body-hugging red dress hardly resembled the contractor whose daily uniform consisted of shirts and jeans or even the gothic creature of the ill-fated business dinner.
This woman was a knockout. His tongue collided with his teeth as he stammered over his words. “You look, uh, great.”
“Thanks. C’mon in. I have to grab my wrap and purse.”
“I’ll, uh, wait here.” With the way she was dressed, the further away he stayed from the kitchen where she propositioned him and the bedroom where they… Coward! No—wise. A wise man who didn’t need this complication in his life. Whether she’d wheedled this date with him through his mother or this was truly his mother’s idea didn’t seem to matter as much now as he continued to gaze at this gorgeous dark red flower.
“Ready.” Shae breezed past him.
His nose took in the heady fragrance of spices she left in her wake. Her ass swayed rhythmically from side to side as she made her way to his car, the motion now augmented by black patent stilettos. God, the dress hugged her like the cummerbunds he was forced to wear to formal events.
She stopped a few feet short of his ride and turned back to him. “Coming?”
Dangerous term. Snap out of it. You’ve been around your share of glamorous women. Don’t let this one get to you.
He sprinted to the car and arrived just in time to open her door for her. “I know you’d rather do this yourself, but tonight you’ll have to let me show off my gentlemanly ways.”
She angled her head in his direction and smiled. “Actually, I kinda like this custom.”
Once her door was closed and he was seated on his side of the car, he stole another glance at her. “No ponytail tonight?”
She brought a hand to her coiffure, preened like any other female. “Like it? I haven’t been to a salon in…uh, well, I don’t remember how long.”
“New dress, too. You must really be up for this showing.”
“I wanted to do your mother proud.”
Sounded ominous. “Didn’t think you knew her well enough.”
“We talked a bit the day she came to the site looking for you.” She straightened her skirt and repositioned her wrap and purse. Apparently she didn’t want to discuss his mother.
At length, as the silence got to him, he asked, “Ever been to one of these things?”
“No.”
“Nervous?”
“Should I be?”
She gripped her hands tightly in her lap. Yep, she was nervous. Why couldn’t she just admit it? “Not at all. Especially something my mom puts on. She’s pretty laid back. You walk around and admire the artist’s pieces. At some point, you meet the artist and gush over their work. I think this is some woman Mom got excited about after running into her at the grocery store. There’ll be wine and hors d’oeuvres. Hope you ate before coming, because you can’t fill up on that stuff.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“She’ll expect me to stick around. The celebrity bit, you know.”
“Actually, she asked me to do something similar. Not as a celeb, of course. More like window dressing.”
“Mom said that?” Not his mom. Janice Collier didn’t pay attention to appearances. “Not in those words. If I mingle, fine. But mainly, just be there and look good.”
Hence, the dress. Leave it to his mom to see the potential beauty in Shae. Not that he himself had been unaware of Shae’s attributes but more from an unclothed aspect than gussied up like this. No doubt about it, though, she really looked great tonight.
Their arrival caused a bit of a stir. Heads turned in their direction and nodded, and the general buzz in the room receded a notch. Ned was used to it. Even expected it, truth be told. But Shae was another matter. Instinctively, she drew closer to him.
He leaned into her ear. “Smile.”
She did, and the nods and smiles continued.
“This will be over shortly. It goes with the territory.”
“There you are,” his mother said as she floated over to them. She immediately grabbed Shae’s hands. “You look ravishing, Shae.”
“So do you,” Shae returned.
Ned took a step back. “She’s right, Mom. What have you been up to? I haven’t seen you dress up like this since I was kid.”
Janice seemed to glow in the light of his attention. “Thank you. I decided to put the, uh, costume aside for the evening. Get with the glamour myself.”
He didn’t know what to say, other than to repeat how nice she looked. “You cut your hair, too,” he remarked as he took in her full appearance. Didn’t usually notice women’s hairstyles, but tonight both Shae and his mother really surprised him.
His mother twirled around for them to better see her new do. “Not real short, but the braid is gone.” She noticed Shae’s hair then. “And you did something, too.”
“I still need the ponytail for workdays, but for tonight, I let the hairdresser have her way.”
When had all this feminine bonding happened? Just as he’d begun to believe Shae’s contention his mother initiated the invitation to this affair, this little gabfest made him wonder anew what Shae had been up to with his parent. “Uh, you probably should attend to your other guests,” he suggested to his mother, then he steered Shae in the other direction, toward the refreshment table.
“Stick around. We’ll talk more later,” Janice called as she approached a rather dour-looking older man.
“Hi, Ned. Ms. Harriman.” The petite blonde architect, Lacey Rogers, had come up behind them. “Your mom is so tickled you were able to attend this showing. That’s all she could talk about when I went with her to get her hair done today.” She shifted her attention to Shae. “And, you, Ms. Harriman…Shae. You accomplished what I’ve attempted to do for months, you got her out of that dowdy hippie garb. She looks incredible tonight.”
Shae could only nod at the unexpected compliment.
“You convinced Mom to change up her wardrobe?” Ned asked, an incredulous note in his tone.
“I must have caught her when she was susceptible to the idea. She helped me pick this dress and got sucked into the fashion thing more than she realized.” She glanced over her shoulder to pick out the gallery owner. “She even went for shoes. With heels.”
Ned eyed her with an expression that said he couldn’t believe she’d downplayed what must have been a tremendous achievement. He put a grateful arm around Lacey’s shoulders and gave her a hug. “Thanks. To both of you. I may be building her a house, but you’ve probably given her an experience equally as thrilling.”
On Lacey’s arm, Jack Dalton, her fiancé and partner on the project, had remained silent until the women finished their pleasantries. Then he offered, “I hear ours is ahead of schedule.”
Shae bit a lip, forced a smile but let Ned talk. She wasn’t about to take credit for so
mething she would have vetoed, had she been consulted. Besides, she’d promised herself she’d steer clear of their recent difficulties while she was with Ned tonight.
Ned explained how he’d added more houses to the initial dig to the two architects. Jack nodded, apparently not alarmed.
Lacey turned to Shae. “Ned is indirectly responsible for Jack and me getting together.”
Surprised, Shae responded, “Ned, a matchmaker?”
Lacey continued with the story. “Ned’s initial idea was to make Sullivan’s Creek a retirement area for baby boomers. Jack and I were assigned the design concept, but neither of us had much experience with that generation, nor did either of us really want to work with the other. Once we found our way to a truce, for our research we taught a Salsa class, where Janice was a member, although we had no idea she was Ned’s mother.”
“Nor that Ned was our client until the design concept was almost finished,” Jack added.
The three of them laughed as they reminisced.
At length, Lacey said, “Well, uh, your mother probably wants to introduce you around. We’re here to pick out something for our new home, a wedding gift from your mom. See you later.”
“Rather than my mom show me off, let’s give the guests a gander at you,” Ned told Shae once Lacey and Jack had wandered off.
She studied him briefly. “You’re sincere, aren’t you?”
“Yeah. Why would you doubt me?”
“The last few days. We’ve certainly had our highs and lows.”
Ned steered her to an unpeopled corner of the room. “How ’bout we borrow a page from the happy couple over there? Call a truce. On the project. Personally.”
A truce? Must have run out of ways to make her life miserable for the time being. But she could use a little peace. Not have to worry about what he’d come up with next. “Good idea. We don’t have to sign anything in blood, though, do we? I don’t do well around my own blood.”
“Pinky swear instead?”
“Okay. Sean used to make me do that so I wouldn’t rat him out to Dad.”
They latched little fingers and tugged.
Mike joined them. “What’s this?”
“We’ve just agreed to a truce,” Ned said.
Mike narrowed his eyes. “Uh, yeah. Sure. Whatever. Only you’d better mix it up with the guests. They all caught that little show with the fingers. Folks now wonder what’s with the two of you. Including your mom, who’s salivating even as she convinces that old geezer over there to part with ten thou.”
“You mean your dad? Glad he was able to attend while he blew in for a few days. We watched a baseball game together last night while you were out.”
“Slipped in around eight,” Mike said. “You two seemed so cozy in the den, I hid out in the music room.”
“Wouldn’t have killed you to spend a few hours with your dad. What were you doing in the music room anyhow? You’d better not have listened to my playback.”
Mike’s neck turned almost the color of Shae’s dress. “No. I watched the game on a set I snuck in for just such occasions. Those soundproof walls can shut out more than your music.”
“Every so often, your dad would check his watch and stare at the door.”
“You’ve got no room to talk. You avoid your mom whenever you can get away with it.”
Ned gave Mike a quick guy-type nudge, punched Mike’s arm as a follow-up. Through a forced smile, he said, “If you can’t tell he’s here because he misses you, you’re just blind. And you’d better not have listened to my new piece. I told you, I wasn’t ready yet for you to hear it.”
Not to be outdone, Mike knuckled Ned’s arm. “He wants me back in the company full time. As for your piece, you really shouldn’t tell me not to do something, because you know what that does to me.”
Ned elbowed Mike back with even more force. “Did you…like it?” he asked, his voice going soft.
Mike leaned into Ned and pushed. “Yeah, I did. It’s different than anything you’ve done before. Really powerful.”
As Ned reared back to return Mike’s shove, Shae slipped in between them. “Stop! Whether this is brotherly love or the beginning of a duel, this isn’t the time or place. Both of you, turn and smile at those two very concerned faces over there.”
To her surprise and relief, they did.
“Okay, Mike. Get yourself over there and talk to your father. That appears to be what he wants.” She pivoted back to Ned. “We need to circulate and make nice with everyone and encourage them to spend lots of money on this new artist we have yet to meet.”
Mike drew in a huge breath, released it as he squared his shoulders. Before he marched off, he observed, “Ned’s right about you being a ball buster.”
While she was still in shock, Ned said, “I never said that! Exactly.”
She was about to respond when she remembered their truce. If she cross-examined him about what he’d actually called her, that discussion would probably fall outside the realm of permissible topics. Instead, she said, “They actually have a music room? A room devoted only to music and Mike’s private TV viewing?”
Ned nodded as he guided her to the refreshment table. “Yep. I thought they never used it, so I moved my keyboard in and set up shop. Had no idea about Mike’s secret television.”
She had to get herself invited to the Woodley mansion. The idea of a special room just for music staggered the brain. “What’s this about your new piece?”
“It’s like when people keep a journal to record their lives. Only I do it through music.”
“What have you journaled?”
“The project,” he said. When she raised a brow, he added, “The Iowa countryside. You know, the rolling hills, the smell of the fertile earth, the changing seasons?”
Why had that last part sounded so forced?
“White or white?” he asked, shifting subjects.
“Huh?”
“Mom only serves white wine at these things. Easier to clean, if someone spills.”
“What will you have?”
He grabbed an empty wine glass, opened a bottle of water, and poured. “This. I’m supposed to stay away from alcohol while my throat heals.”
“Then make mine the same.” She tried to remember how much wine he’d consumed at their business dinner meeting and recalled he’d only taken a sip.
He gave her a curious glance but didn’t say anything further.
“Ready?” she asked. “Oh, wait. “Any lipstick on my teeth?”
He checked. “No. Do you want me to tell you about the dirt mark on your forehead?”
“What? Where’s a mirror? How did I get that?”
She’d gone several steps down the back hallway before he caught her. “You’re fine. I couldn’t resist. Didn’t realize you’d take me at my word.”
She rolled her eyes. “I thought we just pinkie swore to a truce.”
“I didn’t swear not to tease. You’re much too serious about things, Ms. Harriman. Gotta shake you up every so often.”
Like you haven’t every day for the last six weeks? “I am not that serious.”
“Right. Okay, show me. Let’s see the non-serious Shae Harriman hit the handshaking trail.”
“I know what you’re doing, Ned. You think I’m nervous, and this is your way to help me get through it.”
“Are you nervous?”
She wet her lips. Sean had delighted in hassling her as well, but not quite this way. Was this Ned attempting to keep things light between them? “Forget it. Let’s go.”
For the next few minutes, she smiled, shook hands, and made ferocious small talk. “Nice to meet you,” “Love your dress,” “Thank you, no, this isn’t couture.” She was surprised she even knew what they meant.
Throughout this discourse, she got to listen to, “Jake Bonneville, didn’t expect to see such a megastar here,” “So you’re Janice Collier’s son?” “Jake, good to see you up and about, how’s the throat?” “When will you be able
to sing again?”
Ned morphed into Jake Bonneville before her eyes. His posture became more fluid, with-it. He walked with a little more swagger. And his face—though the Ned Collier she knew might be a control freak, his facial expressions were usually relaxed, approachable. This guy’s face, Jake Bonneville’s, seemed molded to appear perfect, remote. She became so engrossed watching his act she forgot to perform her own charm thing.
Janice slipped in beside her, drew near her ear, and said, “It’s a bit intimidating at first, isn’t it? I thought of warning you, but I was sure you could hold your own.”
“I-I don’t know what to say, how to act, when people go into fan mode.”
“Let him handle it. Just smile, nod whenever it’s called for. My sales increase every time someone discovers my connection to Ned. I hate it, but I’m a business woman.”
Once she’d imparted her wisdom, the gallery owner drifted off to yet another guest. Shortly after that, Shae and Ned reached the guest of honor. “Ned Collier, Miss Williams. This is my guest, Shae Harriman.”
A woman slightly shorter than Shae’s five-foot nine stature finished her good-byes with a middle-aged couple and turned her full attention on Ned and Shae. Where Shae was curvy, this woman was slim, athletic-looking. Straight black hair hung slightly below her shoulders. But her most striking feature was her eyes, a dark violet with gold flecks.
As she reached for Shae’s hand, Darren Williams showed off ripped arms in her sleeveless black sheath. “Ms. Harriman, the builder. May I call you Shae? I’ve heard so much about you from Janice.”
“Really?” Shae replied, surprised at the recognition. “I’ve only gotten to know her recently, although I met her several weeks ago when I first took over for my dad.”
“You made quite an impression.”
Ned gave her a curious sideways glance but then turned back to the artist. “I’d say the same for you, Darren. She doesn’t do showings for just anyone.”
“I know. I’m honored to be here.”
“We’ve admired your pieces as we’ve worked the crowd,” Shae said. “My favorite so far is ‘Pink Dawn’. The subject area looks familiar, but I can’t place it.”
Tough Enough to Tango Page 20
