Alex paled. Now she was lying to her best friend, again.
“Don’t be proud. She only accepted my paintings to get Nick’s sketches. His work is amazing. He’s an amazing man.”
“Love the man. Love his herb garden. Wait a minute. You have genuine feelings for this man, don’t you?”
Alex wiped a tear from her face.
“I only care about his work.”
“Now you’re lying to me, or to yourself. I want you to tell me the truth. You’re falling in love with him, aren’t you?”
“Vicky, how can you even think that? I’m married, with two grown kids.”
Vicky screwed up her face and shook her head.
“That’s not what I asked you.”
“I’m just doing this to help him.”
“And if he doesn’t want your help?”
“I can sure as hell try.”
“What if he refuses to come to the show or refuses to let you show his work?”
“They’re my sketches now, so I can do what I want with them. But I’ve dedicated my part of the show proceeds toward building a new residential wing for the soup kitchen in Samantha’s memory. He won’t be able to refuse that.”
“Clever girl. Just don’t go falling for him like you did in college.”
“I didn’t fall for him.”
“Your memory might be failing, but mine is not. You had a major crush on the man, but you were too shy to let him know. Then when you did make a move, he rejected you, which was the right thing for him to do. You were in over your head. I was the one you came crying to when he took off with Samantha Bennett. That’s when you went running straight into Mark Newborn’s arms. I think you were half in love with your professor.”
Alex wouldn’t admit it, but she didn’t deny it. It was important that her friend understand Nick a little better.
“I asked the shelter director point blank about Nick.”
“What did he say?”
“He said that for a while Nick was unreachable, but that lately he had turned his life around. He’s a different person than when he first arrived. Do you know that he donates most of his salary back to the shelter?”
“You’re kidding. He can’t make that much money.”
“No, but he’s so grateful to have a place to call home, and he wants to support the work they’re doing there. Can you believe how selfless that is?”
The way he lived now was a hit-or-miss proposition. Nick needed more. She had to admit she still cared for the man. In college, the way she remembered it, she’d been caught up in his emotional web, and when he rejected her and moved on to his graduate assistant, she was devastated. But that wasn’t exactly the way it had happened. She had gone after him, and when he’d responded to her but suddenly put the brakes on, she’d dropped out of his class.
He wasn’t the villain she’d remembered him to be. He had tried to act responsibly. But he was a different man than the one she’d fallen in love with in college. His circumstances had demanded it. He was less self-absorbed, less arrogant, more down-to-earth. Now that he was back in her orbit, she wanted to keep him there.
Chapter Thirteen
The Invitation
Alexandra balanced a pitcher of ice-cold lemonade and a plateful of cookies and placed them on the wooden table under the gazebo, next to two glasses. Nick eyed the cookies hungrily.
“Hey, why don’t you take a break and have a glass of lemonade. I made it myself from lemons in the yard.”
Nick was bare-chested, sweat pouring off his muscled frame from the sweltering heat. She filled the glasses with the cool liquid and beckoned him to her table. He was hesitant, but she could tell she had tempted him. He smiled, turned off his edger, and shrugged.
“Thanks. That’s nice of you. I guess I could take a few minutes.” He grabbed a cookie and slipped another one into the pocket of his jeans. She wondered how long it had been since he’d last eaten. When you didn’t know where your next meal was coming from, hoarding was probably a natural tendency. Or maybe hard work made you hungry.
They sat together in the gazebo in companionable silence. She tried not to stare at the man’s rippling muscles.
Alex lifted her glass and indicated she wanted him to raise his.
“Come on, I’m going to make a toast.”
“What are we celebrating?”
“New beginnings.”
Their glasses clinked.
“You’re being very mysterious.”
“That’s me. A woman of mystery and intrigue. Are you busy Saturday night?” Alex asked, as if her entire future didn’t hinge on his answer.
“Are you asking me on a date?”
Alex laughed.
“No, I just asked if you were busy.”
“Why?”
He drummed his fingers on the table as if he were contemplating all the activities he had planned for the weekend, when she knew he had none. He was all alone in the world, and her heart went out to him.
“I want you to come to an opening at the Diamond Gallery on the Beach. You know the place, don’t you?”
It was practically next door to the soup kitchen. Surely he had been in there, or had at least looked in the windows, if nothing else, out of curiosity, or maybe for old time’s sake.
“I’ve seen it, sure.”
“Have you been inside?”
“A place like that? It’s too fancy. They’d probably call the cops on me. Why should I come to this opening?”
“Because,” she paused, lingering over every word, “I’ve discovered a new artist. He’s really terrific. I organized the show, helped to frame the pieces myself. That’s why.”
“This guy is really that good?” She could tell she had piqued his interest.
“He reminds me a lot of you,” Alex said, “which is why I took him on.”
“I’m honored that you want me to be there, of course, but I—”
“You’d be my guest.”
Nick hesitated. For some reason he didn’t want to go to the opening.
“I might be busy.”
“Doing what?” she challenged.
“Well, I—”
She could tell something was wrong.
“I don’t have anything suitable to wear.”
Alex’s heart sank. How could she have been so insensitive? Of course he had nothing appropriate to wear. It probably shamed him to admit it.
“Well, it so happens my husband has a closet full of suits he never wears, and I think you’re about his size. Wait here while I go get one.”
“I don’t want anything from him.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. He won’t even miss it. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”
“I’m not a charity case, Alex.”
“I wasn’t implying that, but I see no reason you should have to buy a suit for this one occasion. I’ll be right back.”
Alex sprang out of her seat, ran past the pool, and flew to the screen door. Inside, the house was cool. She went into her bedroom and rifled through Mark’s side of the closet. Mark was right. She had encroached on his space in a major way. She had more clothes on his side of the closet than on hers. She found a nice black suit, snagged a French blue shirt and a pair of cufflinks, an undershirt, a matching tie, and a pair of clean briefs, and slipped them into a plastic clothing cover. Oh, and he’d need a pair of dress shoes and socks. Mark had plenty of those.
She brought the garment bag and the shoebox out to Nick.
“Okay, how’s this? Why don’t you go into the bathroom and try on the suit?”
“I’m all sweaty. Let me take it with me, and I’ll let you know if it works out.”
“You can use our shower. There’s a bathroom just off the laundry room, my studio, and you can shower in there.”
“I-I don’t think that would be right. We aren’t supposed to go in the houses to—”
“Use the facilities?” Alex couldn’t help but laugh. “I think we’re beyond that, don’t you?”
>
Nick colored.
“Okay, then, take the suit with you.” She hoped he had a locker. She didn’t know if he had a place other than a cardboard box to store the suit.
“I’ll pick you up from the soup kitchen on Saturday night at six-thirty,” Alex said. “The opening starts at seven, but I want to get there early. I’m anxious to get your opinion about this artist.”
“I don’t remember saying I would go.”
Alex frowned. “Well, will you? It would mean a lot to me.”
Nick relented.
“I think I can rearrange my schedule. And thanks for the lemonade and cookies and the loan of the suit and shoes.”
“There’s no need to give them back.”
“I plan to,” he insisted. “I’ll have the suit cleaned.” And he would, too. He was so stubborn and proud, he’d spend his last dime if he had to.
Nick placed his glass on the wooden table and went back to work. Her eyes followed him. He’d gained a little weight, and it looked good on him. She was sure Mark’s suit would look good on him too. It was going to be a perfect fit.
Chapter Fourteen
The Diamond Gallery
“Where did you say we were going tonight?” Mark asked, straightening his tie and adjusting his tuxedo. He was primping in front of the mirror, contemplating his movie-star looks.
“To an art gallery opening. I know I told you about it. You weren’t listening. I’ve arranged for a friend of mine to have a show. It’s all the talk of the art community, and not just in Jacksonville. Everyone will be there: the mayor, gallery owners from around the country, local and national media, and I helped put the show together. I don’t ask you for much. I need you to do this for me, to support me for once, Mark. Make it happen.”
“Maybe I can make some contacts,” Mark said, adding, “Who’s this new friend of yours?”
“You won’t believe this, but it’s our lawn guy.”
“What lawn guy? I thought I told you to fire Reed’s.”
“I couldn’t. We had a contract till the end of the year,” Alex said, nearly choking on the lie, amazed at what an accomplished liar she had become.
“You’re taking me to a gallery opening for a tree hugger?”
“He’s not a tree hugger. He was my professor at the university. Dominick Anselmo. You met him once, remember? We need to swing by the soup kitchen and pick him up.”
“Doesn’t he have a car?”
“Well, no. He sold it. He lives in the homeless shelter in downtown Jacksonville, when he can find a space. Otherwise I think he sleeps on the streets.”
Mark was livid. “Are you insane? We’re picking up the lawn man at a soup kitchen? What if he’s a criminal? You are so gullible, Alex. And so naïve. What about the rash of robberies in the neighborhood? How can you bring someone like that into our home?”
“He’s never been in our home, Mark.” At least that wasn’t a lie.
“But you’ve obviously been communicating with a potential criminal.”
“He’s not a criminal.” Alex sighed patiently. “Just because he lives in a homeless shelter doesn’t make him a criminal. And we don’t have to go all the way into Jacksonville. I told you, he’ll be waiting for us at the soup kitchen in Jacksonville Beach, not ten minutes from our house. Nick is the guest of honor. The gallery is featuring his sketches.”
Mark shook his head.
“Now you’re on a first-name basis with the lawn man? Sometimes I wonder about your judgment. Why don’t you go ahead and pick him up? I have something I have to do. I’ll meet you there. What is the name of this gallery?”
“It’s the Diamond Gallery on the Beach, right past the—”
“Did you say the Diamond Gallery?” Mark interrupted. “You didn’t tell me you were holding the event there.”
“I showed you the invitation, remember?”
Mark mumbled something and didn’t even say goodbye as he ran out of the house, which is how he typically acted when he was preoccupied or uninterested in anything she had to say. She hoped he would show up. He hadn’t been very dependable lately. And he only did what he wanted to do. He definitely didn’t act like he wanted to spend his evening at a gallery opening. Or spend it with her.
“Mark, be careful driving,” she called out to him. “And take your umbrella. They’re predicting a nasty storm this evening, with hurricane-force winds.” But he was already gone.
Chapter Fifteen
Zip Me Up
Someone was pounding on the door of Bitsy Diamond’s beach house. She didn’t have a clue who could be at her door at this hour.
“I’m coming,” Bitsy yelled, as she started to slip on her body-hugging black designer sheath. She was in the middle of getting ready for the biggest night of her life, and she was only minutes away from leaving. This opening would cement her reputation in the art world. Her gallery would forever be known as the gallery that had lured Dominick Anselmo back into the spotlight.
Local politicians and representatives from the national press would be there, and she was going to take full credit for this coup. Shut out that mousy Alex Newborn. How could Mark have married that little nobody? She, Bitsy, was so much sexier, so much more successful, so much classier. Not to mention younger.
When Bitsy had first run into Alex at the gym, she’d had no idea who the woman was. Mark liked to keep his family life private, which infuriated her. But then Alexandra had stepped into her gallery to show her wares, and one look at her business card had given her away. Newborn wasn’t exactly a common name, and she knew Mark’s wife was named Alexandra. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to put two and two together. But apparently Alex didn’t have a clue about who she was.
Alex’s work had been surprisingly good. Good enough to merit her own show, but there was no way she was going to give that brainless little twit the satisfaction of telling her that, or the opportunity to show her work at Diamond’s. The woman didn’t even know how good she was. When she brought Dominick Anselmo into the mix—well, then, she’d had no choice but to deal with the little snake. The woman had practically blackmailed her. Alex’s tenacity had surprised her.
It was an irresistible proposition. She’d been dying to tell Alexandra about her relationship with her husband. She was going to give Mark one more chance to do the right thing, but she was running out of patience. After tonight, she was going to give Mark an ultimatum. He was going to have to choose between the two women in his life. In her opinion, it wasn’t much of a choice: Meat and potatoes or Champagne and caviar.
Bitsy swung open the door, still in her slip, and a look of annoyance flickered on her face until she saw who was there.
“Mark, what are you doing here? I thought I told you I had plans tonight.”
“But you didn’t tell me your plans included my wife.”
Bitsy looked surprised.
“Bitsy, we have to talk.”
“Not now, I’m late. I need to be at my gallery for an opening, the opening.” She had just checked in with her assistant and found that all was under control with the caterer and the florist. But she wanted to see for herself that everything was in its proper place and confirm that the gallery was ready for its VIP visitors. No one had canceled, which was a miracle in itself, considering the weather, which was worsening by the minute.
“This can’t wait,” Mark said, looking her over, his gaze settling on her breasts.
Bitsy smothered a smile. He had a right to look his fill. After all, he’d bought and paid for them.
Bitsy sighed at Mark’s impatience. He was ten years older, yet he could be such a child sometimes. But his impulsiveness was part of his attraction.
“Come in, then.” She ushered him in and wriggled into her dress. “Zip me up and tell me what you’re so hot about.”
“It’s about Alex. How in the hell do you know my wife?”
“Honestly, darling, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Alexandra Newbo
rn? She’s involved in your gallery opening tonight. Don’t tell me you didn’t know that?”
“Well, of course I did,” Bitsy admitted. “She helped me plan the opening. Only I didn’t know she was your wife. How could I?”
Mark frowned as he tried to zip up Bitsy’s dress.
“The last name didn’t clue you in?”
“Darling, I never even connected the two.”
“Bitsy, I think you’re lying, and I think this dress is a size too small.”
Bitsy’s eyes flashed, and then she smiled.
“Is that your way of saying you think I’m getting fat?”
“You’re changing the subject, Bitsy. Of course you’re not fat. I just can’t get this zipper up. And I’m not interested in the dress. I want to talk about why I didn’t know my wife would be attending this opening. You could have at least prepared me.”
“You’ve never been interested in my business before. Can I help it if you don’t communicate with your own wife?”
“You’re trying to steer me off track. I want an explanation. I thought we agreed my family is off limits.”
“Your rules, not mine. Mark, I don’t have time to discuss this with you right now. You haven’t even told me how beautiful I look. Now finish zipping me up so I can go.”
“You look great, but there’s not much to this dress.”
“That’s the idea, darling.”
Mark pouted but twirled Bitsy around to give her a searing kiss, and spun her again and started to zip up her dress.
“I’d rather be getting you out of this dress, Bits,” Mark murmured, placing his big, warm hand flat against her bare back and tracing his forefinger lightly down her spine.
“You’re not wearing any panties under this dress, are you? Don’t lie to me. I can check.”
Bitsy shivered and reached around to grab Mark’s hand. She turned to face him and moved his hand deliberately down the front of her dress until his fingers were touching her breasts, and he forgot what they were arguing about.
She rubbed her body against his. Mark was an insatiable lover. That was another thing she liked about him.
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