by Holly Rayner
Just as their arms brushed in passing, she heard him say her name.
“Eva? Is that you?”
His deep, accented voice was like music to her ears. She looked up and acted surprised. “Dimitris? Oh my goodness! What are you doing here?”
“Just finished dinner,” he said with a warm smile. “Wow, it’s great to see you. You look beautiful!”
She felt herself smile, too. “Thanks,” she said.
“Are you heading somewhere?” Dimitris asked.
“Home, actually,” she said. “I just left dinner with a few friends.”
“Oh, don’t go home yet,” he said. “You look too beautiful for a night in the house. Come out with me—join me at the gallery opening.”
She hesitated, as though she was thinking over the offer, then looked at the time on her phone, as if considering whether it was too late for another activity that night. After a pause she said, “Well, it is early still. I guess I don’t have to go home yet.” She pushed her phone back into her purse and smiled up at Dimitris. “Sure, I’d love to come. Thanks for the offer.”
“It’s my pleasure,” he said, his eyes dancing over her.
Just like the day before, she enjoyed being the focus of his attention.
Chapter 5
Dimitris
Dimitris couldn’t help but glance over at Eva as they made their way to the Cutler Gallery. She looked stunning—even more beautiful than he remembered.
He noticed she was more dressed up than she’d been the night before. Probably because she and her friends were out at a nice restaurant, he thought. Then, somewhat wistfully, They’re lucky to have her friendship.
“What are the chances?” he said with a shake of his head. “Of all the women I could see tonight, I just happened to see you.” He still couldn’t believe it. He’d been anticipating a quiet night to himself, but he was far from upset to be sharing the night with Eva.
She smelled so good—like lavender and honeysuckle. Her hair wasn’t tied back as it had been the evening before. Instead, it framed her angelic face. Her black dress fit her figure just right.
She seemed slightly uncomfortable about his statement, and she deflected it quickly. “Oh, DC isn’t really that big.” Her cheeks tinted with a blush. “How was your day?” she asked.
He considered the question. “It got off to a rough start, thanks to some news from my lawyer, but it’s better now.” He smiled in her direction, hoping that she picked up on the meaning behind his words.
She saw her blush intensify and knew that his compliment had landed. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Me too,” she said. “I mean, about the day getting better.”
“You worked this morning, yes?” he asked.
“Yeah.” She nodded and then laughed nervously. “Busy shift. At least that makes it go by fast. Look, there’s the gallery. Have you been before?”
He could see the Cutler Gallery ahead. A red velvet rope formed scallops between brass posts to contain the line that was forming along the front of the establishment.
“No, this is a first for me,” Dimitris said. “My assistant thought I would enjoy it. She’s worked for me for years and knows my preferences. How about you?”
Eva nodded. She didn’t want to sound boastful, so she decided not to mention the fact that her own paintings had been displayed in the gallery at one point. Instead she said, “A few times, actually. Tahj always puts together a good show.”
“Is that the owner?” Dimitris asked. They joined the line, which moved quickly. He noticed a few other men checking Eva out, and he moved slightly closer to her, hoping that their closeness would give off the right vibe—that they were there together.
“Yeah, Tahj Cutler,” Eva said. “I’ll introduce you. You’ll get a kick out of him, I’m sure.”
“Funny guy?”
“Not funny, exactly, but different. He’s very… perceptive.” Eva seemed to choose her words carefully, and Dimitris liked that about her. He’d always spoken impulsively, and it tended to get him into trouble now and then. He respected the way that Eva considered each statement she made so carefully.
Once they were admitted into the gallery, a flow of people swept them along around the periphery of the room. Lively jazz music played in the background, and caterers wove through the crowd offering a selection of wine, appetizers, and bite-sized desserts.
Dimitris snagged two glasses of wine, one white and one red. He offered Eva her choice, and she selected the white and sipped it as they walked.
More than a few people recognized Eva and smiled in her direction. She exchanged words with a few of them and introduced Dimitris. He enjoyed hearing the way she pronounced his name, with her American accent. The paintings were impressive, but he had a hard time focusing on them.
“There’s Tahj!” Eva said suddenly, taking his hand. “Come on, I’ll introduce you.”
“You said he’s perceptive,” Dimitris said as he followed her through the crowd. “In what way?”
“When it comes to people,” Eva explained. “He has a way of discerning things that others just don’t see. It makes him a great gallery owner because he’s very in tune with the artists he works with. People call him Doctor Tahj, because he acts as a bit of a therapist in the art community.”
She caught Tahj’s eye and waved. He excused himself from the knot of people he was talking with and made his way over.
“Eva Sharpe!” He exclaimed as soon as he was at her side. He was well over six feet tall and had to stoop to give her a hug. He had dark olive skin, a toothy smile, and wore red-framed glasses. “Fantastic! I wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight!”
“I wasn’t planning on coming, but then I ran into my new friend Dimitris, and he invited me along.”
She gestured to Dimitris, at which point Dimitris extended his hand. “Nice to meet you, Tahj,” he said. “I’m enjoying the paintings.”
Tahj’s gaze bounced from Dimitris to Eva and then back to Dimitris, as if he was sizing up the nature of their relationship.
After a few seconds, Tahj smiled as brightly as Dimitris. “I should hope so,” he said. “I’ve been waiting for nearly three years to get Aidan Quinn to get his act together and actually produce some art. The man is a genius but couldn’t care less about productivity. A tragic combination, if you ask me.”
“Tahj, you brilliant man, you!” a woman called out in a shrill voice that sliced through the buzz of the crowd, “Get over here! I need my fix!”
Tahj flashed a smile out into the crowd, and then lowered his voice. “Lord, help me,” he said. “Sheila Montgomery. She buys at least two paintings at every opening, but she annoys me to no end.”
Dimitris chuckled.
Eva patted Tahj on the arm. “Business is business, right?” she said.
He nodded. “I’m afraid so. Excuse me, you two. Dimitris, lovely to meet you.” He pulled a business card from the front pocket of his button-up. “If you’re in the market for some art, I’d love to chat. Give me a call anytime.” He bent down and kissed Eva on the cheek before bidding her goodbye.
Dimitris slipped the card into his pocket. “Nice guy,” he said to Eva. He guided her toward a section of paintings they hadn’t seen yet. “And he seems to know his art. Three years is a long time to wait for a certain artist to get his act together, but he’s right, this Quinn guy is worth it.”
They paused in front of a painting of an old man, bent over a guitar.
“I used to own a gallery in New York City,” Eva said quietly. “Once I booked an artist that I was crazy about… This woman was really, really, good, and I knew I could sell her work no problem. She promised to have twenty paintings to put on display, and then she called me the day before the opening was scheduled and admitted that she only had ten. I had to scour the city looking for another artist to feature along with her. It was a mess, but the show came together nicely. It ended up being one of my most successful months, actually.”
&nb
sp; Her voice was slightly strained, though she was trying to sound casual. Dimitris sensed that she didn’t like the subject, for some reason.
He raised his brows. “You owned a gallery in New York?” he said. “You didn’t mention that last night.”
“I guess it didn’t come up,” she said. “I loved the work, and my gallery was doing well. It was featured in the New York Chronicle, and I booked a few really well-known artists the year before I closed it down.”
“If you were doing well, why did you close down?”
“I had to get out of New York,” Eva said, averting her gaze. “Something came up, and I just had to… I just had to get out. Personal reasons.” She sipped her wine, and Dimitris sensed that she was nervous.
“Do you plan on getting back into that field?” he asked. They started walking again, moving along with the flow of the crowd.
She nodded. “I’d like to,” she said. “I’m actually looking for investors at the moment. I need to cover the start-up costs. Are you interested? In, um… investing? I know that I could run a successful gallery and make the money back within five years. I’ve done it before. It’s just a matter of getting started.”
Ah. So that’s why she’s been so nervous, Dimitris thought.
He smiled in an attempt to ease her tension. “I have no doubt that you’re going to be a huge success, Eva,” he said. “And you’re definitely going to find plenty of people who believe in you. I’d invest myself if I did that sort of thing, but I don’t. I learned a long time ago that if I split my focus too much, my business suffers. I’m afraid I have too much of a one-track mind.”
He saw that she was disappointed, and he didn’t like that.
Remembering how she had lit up when she talked about art, he turned the conversation toward that topic. “What kind of artists do you plan on featuring?”
His tactic worked. The light returned to her eyes as she began to speak.
“Oh, I love anything that has a lot of color… big, open landscapes; saturated, rich tones. Natural subject matter. The ocean… I just love paintings of the ocean. The world is so beautiful, and we all miss that sometimes. I see people walking around as if they’re on autopilot, sleepwalking. From the condo to the cubicle and back to the condo—that sort of thing.”
He nodded. “I know exactly what you mean,” he said.
They came to a stop in front of another of Aidan Quinn’s paintings. This one was of a couple. The woman was in a blue dress, perched on a couch, reading. A man was sitting in a chair by her side, in a rumpled brown suit with a newspaper laid out on his lap. A lamp, in the center of the composition, gave off a warm golden glow. “Domestic Scene: Husband and Wife in the Evening” read a notecard displayed to the right of the canvas.
Suddenly, Dimitris had an idea.
He turned to Eva and studied her profile. She was looking at the painting thoughtfully. She brought her wine glass to her lips and took a sip.
Would it work? Dimitris wondered. It would take some planning. They’d have a lot of details to work out. Would she go for it?
I’d have to propose it in the right way, he thought. And not here. We’d have to go somewhere quieter, so we could really talk.
She turned to look at him. “What do you think? Do you like it?” she asked.
“Like what?” he asked.
She giggled. “The painting,” she said. “What else?” She met his gaze. “You have a strange look in your eye. I’ve seen that look before—my friend Nikki gets it when she’s plotting something.”
He nodded. “I just had an idea, and I’d love to talk it over with you. How about we get out of here and go get a cup of coffee?”
“Um…” She hesitated. They hadn’t made it completely around the room yet, and she’d barely touched her wine. For a moment, she appeared confused by the abrupt change of plans, but then she gathered herself and looked up at Dimitris with curiosity.
“Sure, let’s go talk,” she said.
Chapter 6
Eva
Eva watched Dimitris curiously as he scanned the cafe. He motioned to a table at the very back of the room, removed from the other couples that lingered over dessert cocktails, coffees, and baked goods.
A candle flickered in a little glass holder in the center of the table. Dimitris pulled out a chair for Eva, and she lowered herself into it. Murmured conversations throughout the cafe mingled with the soft classical music being played from overhead speakers.
Eva had ordered a decaf vanilla latte at the counter. She sipped it, appreciating the perfect temperature and sweetness of the drink as she waited for Dimitris to reveal his mysterious idea to her.
He settled into his chair, set down his drink—espresso—and then looked around the cafe as if to judge whether it was safe to talk without being overheard.
“I have a proposal to make to you,” he said in a low voice. “It’s not exactly conventional, or strictly legal, and I’d like it if you could keep it between us—regardless of whether you say yes or no.”
Eva narrowed her eyes. She’d seen enough criminal activity during her youth, and she’d said goodbye to all of that six years ago. What was he getting at?
She took a sip of her drink, then nodded. “I can do that,” she said. She set her cup down on the saucer and waited for Dimitris to continue.
He leaned forward, eyes sparkling. “I’d like US citizenship, and an idea just occurred to me. If I marry an American woman, that would solve my problem. It would make my life so much easier; it would fix everything.” He spoke softly, with intensity.
Eva felt her chest rise and fall, as the intensity of the moment washed over her. Dimitris’s eyes locked with hers. She was sure he was asking her to fulfill the role he was describing.
“Me?” she said, placing a hand on her chest. She realized her voice was too loud, and she lowered it to a conspiratorial whisper. “You want me to marry you so you can become a citizen?”
He didn’t look away from her. His eyes burned with so much intensity that she could barely stand to look back at him. But she did. She felt more alive than she had in ages. It was a proposal of a lifetime. She was certain he was offering a chance that she’d never be given again, as long as she lived.
She sensed that he was used to living on the edge like this, and she was happy to be in the moment with him. She’d been so cautious, watching her every move for the last six years. It felt good to feel so alive.
“That’s my proposal,” he said.
A beat of silence passed between them, and he searched her eyes. The piano music reached a crescendo, and Eva felt her heart beating in her chest.
“Would you do it?” he asked, his voice still low.
“Yes,” she said.
Immediately, a buzz of adrenaline coursed through her veins, as if she was sipping straight espresso rather than a decaf latte. What am I saying? she thought. She was used to thinking so carefully before speaking. But the word had simply slipped out.
She felt light, as though she might float away. Dimitris looked so gorgeous, sitting there across from her. His stubble was thicker today, and his features took on a warm glow, thanks to the flickering light from the candle. His eyes appeared warm and inviting. She felt as though he was asking her to step into his world with him. It was a world of risk, chance, riches, and pleasure.
“Yes,” she said again, more sure of herself this time. “I’ll do it. I’ll marry you.”
He grinned and leaned back in his seat, looking relieved and excited at the same time. “Bravo!” he said happily. “Eva Sharpe, you’re an angel.”
“I’ll do it,” she said quickly, “but I have a request. I want to get paid.” Her words came out slightly wobbly, and she cleared her throat, then took a tentative sip of her drink. The soothing, warm coffee flavors comforted her and gave her a sense of resolve.
She lifted her chin. “What you’re asking me to do puts me at risk, too,” she said. “And I’d like to be compensated for that.”
She hesitated. She had a number in mind, but would it sound like too much? Or was it too little? She wasn’t sure, but she spoke the number that stared her in the face every time she focused on her budget. “I need a hundred and twenty thousand dollars,” she said. “Half for getting out of debt, and the other half for starting up my business.”
“Fair enough,” he said easily, as if the number meant little to him. “You mean you don’t want to marry me for my good looks?”
He was flirting, she knew, but she stopped herself from flirting back. They were discussing a business arrangement, now, and the details of it would have vast implications for her future.
This could change everything, she thought with excitement.
So many nights, she’d laid awake in bed, staring at the ceiling and wondering how she was going to get out of the hole she’d dug for herself. Her credit card debt had racked up at an alarming rate, and thanks to interest, it wasn’t going down, even when she threw every penny she managed to pinch at it.
She had to admit that she’d not been able to scrimp and save that much toward paying off her debt, thanks to the pattern she’d gotten into of living paycheck to paycheck. She’d figured she would soon have to pick up a second job if she wanted to set aside a few hundred dollars a month. The thought of leaving work at the restaurant only to go to another low-paying job was completely overwhelming.
Suddenly, she felt as though the bleak future she’d imagined for herself was being erased. As it dissipated, it left a blank slate. That filled her with hope. Excitement built up inside of her, but she forced herself to take a deep breath—there were details to work out.
She looked down at her coffee cup. “Of course you’re handsome, Dimitris. But that doesn’t change the fact that I’d like payment for my involvement.”
“Understood,” he said. “How about half up front, and the other half after some time passes, and we’re sure that the arrangement is working out for both of us?”