By Private Invitation

by Stephanie Julian

  Could it really be that easy? It didn’t seem possible.

  “I haven’t gotten a chance to clean that one yet.” The dealer walked over with a smile on her face. “I found it in a box of jewelry I bought at an estate sale last week. The stone’s real. A sapphire.”

  Trying not to act like an over-eager rube, Annabelle held it up to the light.

  At the moment, it didn’t look like it was worth five dollars, much less five hundred, which was actually closer to the truth.

  To Beatrice, it was priceless. If it was her ring.

  Turning her attention to the inside of the band, she swore she felt lightheaded when she saw the faint letters that looked like Greek. She wasn’t positive they spelled the word passion but, really, what else could it be?

  “How much do want for this?” she asked the vendor.

  When she named a ridiculously high price, Annabelle settled into bargaining. She wasn’t about to cheat the woman but she wasn’t going to pay more than it was really worth. When they settled on $450, Annabelle walked away with a smile and the ring.

  Which she handed back to Kate.

  She took it with a confused smile.

  “I think you should hold on to that for me,” Annabelle said. “Just for a while.”

  She recalled Beatrice telling her about the legend associated with the jewels. Kate had picked it up first and put it on her finger. She should be the one to give it to Beatrice. Unless she saw Tyler first.

  At least one of the Golden brothers was a gentleman and she had no doubt it was Tyler.

  The painting arrived Monday morning at nine by private courier.

  From Haven Hotel.

  Annabelle propped the crate against the checkout desk and left it there for an hour before she decided to open it.

  When the shock of the address wore off, she realized she was pretty sure she knew what was in the crate. She couldn’t decide if she was pissed off or touched. She didn’t want to be touched.

  “That bastard.”

  She’d barely managed to function on Sunday. Only the constant stream of customers had kept her mind off the mess her life had become.

  And it’d taken an entire bottle of Arbor Mist to ensure she slept through the night.

  Which she’d paid for today with a hangover she’d only managed to shake with three acetaminophen.

  The sight of that crate made her temples throb again.

  “Damn him.”

  She knew she wouldn’t get any work done until she opened it, so she got her crowbar and pried it open.

  Kate found Annabelle sitting on the floor of the shop in front of the painting an hour later.

  “Annabelle? Hey, is everything okay?” A pause. “What’re you doing on the floor, hon?”

  “Hey, Kate. I got a present from Jared.”

  Behind her, she heard Kate walk over to her, then stop. “Is that one of your dad’s?”

  She nodded, letting her gaze trace the lines of her mother’s naked back. “It’s Number Seven in the Passion series. The one I needed to complete my collection. Jared sent it.”

  Kate paused. “Okay, back up. I’m thoroughly confused. I thought you said he wanted to buy your paintings.”

  “That’s what I thought too.”

  “Then why did he send you this one?”

  Good question. “You know, Jared accused me of hiding and he was right. I have been. And I’m so sick and tired of looking over my shoulder, waiting for my past to bite me on the ass.”

  Slowly, Kate nodded. “I get that, Annabelle. I do. But…” She sighed. “What are you going to do? I mean, do you just take out an ad in the newspaper and say, ‘Hey, I’m Peter O’Malley’s daughter.’”

  “No, of course not. But I have to do something. And…I had this idea. It might be really stupid and if you think so, just tell me, okay?” She then let her idea tumble out in a rush before she lost her nerve. “I’m thinking about doing a showing here, a grand reopening. The renovations will be completed next week. I have that beautiful new gallery space. I’d decide who to invite and let the information just…slide out that way.”

  Kate’s expression was solemn. “Sounds like you’ve given it a lot of thought, and I can see how having control over the event would be helpful.” Kate turned back to the painting. “This one’s beautiful. I wish I’d known your parents.”

  Annabelle wished for the same. “They were wonderful. All of them. And so much in love. I knew their relationship was different. Lots of kids had two dads and a mom but they didn’t all live together and share the same bed. I knew other people thought they were freaks. And worse. But those people didn’t understand. They just condemned. Then the way they died just made it all that much more titillating.

  “But my paintings, the ones I’ve kept in storage all these years, they show the love, the affection. I think I didn’t want to share that with anyone else after what happened. I wanted to keep it for myself.”

  “Understandable, considering. But you’re not going to sell them, are you? Because you know people will be all over you to buy them.”

  “Of course not. But maybe I’ll show some of the younger artists I’ve been collecting. Give others a boost.”

  “And dilute a little of the focus on your announcement. Sounds like a plan.”

  “I’m not ashamed of who I am. Or my parents. It’s time to take back my life.”

  “Does that include forgiving a certain guy? You know he sent this as damn big ‘I’m sorry,’ right?”

  Annabelle paused as she brushed a finger over her father’s signature. “Yeah. I know.”

  She’d had a lot of time to think over the past week. A lot of time to calm down, think about what had happened. And to admit she missed him. And that maybe, just maybe, he’d had a valid reason for his actions.

  “I guess that will depend on the guy.”

  “So, have you heard from her yet?”

  Jared shook his head as he stared out the window of his office, not bothering to turn around to acknowledge Tyler.

  “The painting was only delivered Monday.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s Friday. You’re just going to give her a painting and hope she realizes how you feel about her?”

  That was the plan, yes. She needed time. He understood that. Time to realize he wasn’t playing her.

  If it didn’t work…Well, he had three more O’Malleys.

  “You know you’re an idiot, right?”

  He opened his mouth to tell his brother to fuck off, then shut it again. Why bother? His plan would work. It had to.

  Tyler shook his head. “It’s not gonna work, Jed. So you sent her one of her dad’s paintings. So what? She’s supposed to read your mind? Did you even tell her you loved her?”

  Of course he hadn’t told her he loved her. She wouldn’t have believed him. She’d have thrown it back in his face.

  He lifted a hand to rub at the ache in his chest. “Do you have any advice that’s actually useful?”

  His voice sounded like a low, angry growl, and he clamped his mouth shut before he could say anything more.

  “Yeah, I do. If I were you, I’d haul ass up to her place, throw yourself on her mercy, and beg her forgiveness for being a total douchebag.”

  “Tyler, dear, don’t call your brother bad names.”

  Beatrice walked through the door of Jared’s office and he gave a low whistle of appreciation. “Whoa, Nana. You look fantastic. Got a hot date?”

  Dressed in a pale pink fitted suit, her hair a sleek bob of snow white, and her makeup impeccable, she walked into Jared’s office with a grin. “Why, thank you, sweetheart. And no, I’m going to a gallery opening. I just thought I’d stop by and see if you received this same invitation. It looks like an interesting event.”

  Jared realized he recognized the envelope his grandmother held. He’d seen a similar one on the pile of mail on his desk this afternoon but he hadn’t bothered to open it. He hadn’t bothered to open a lot of his mail in the past week.r />
  Another party didn’t interest him. He’d only been able to think about Belle.

  And how much he missed her.

  Was this love? The ache in his gut? The pain in his chest?

  Well, it sucked.

  “Not interested.”

  Tyler snorted softly. “Since when are you not interested in a party, Jed? Sounds like someone’s wallowing in self-pity, if you ask me.”

  The inflection in his brother’s tone made him narrow his gaze on Tyler. “No one asked you for your opinion.”

  His brother pulled a piece of white paper out of his shirt pocket. “I got an invitation to the same party.”

  Tyler’s gaze never wavered.

  He walked to his desk, dug around the accumulated piles of papers, and pulled out the envelope.

  The return address was Adamstown.

  His jaw tightened as he ripped open the envelope and pulled out the card.

  You’re invited to the grand reopening of Elder Antiques

  And the debut of the O’Malley Art Gallery

  Featuring the work of

  Peter O’Malley and selected artists

  His gaze shot back to his brother. “This is for tonight. When did you get this?”

  “Yesterday. And so did you.”

  Jared eyed his brother up and down. Tyler wore a suit and a tie. He didn’t have a date. Tyler never had a date.

  “We’ll wait while you change, dear,” his grandmother said. “Just make it quick.”

  “What if no one shows up? I should have included an RSVP but it was such short notice. This was a stupid idea. I should have given myself more time to plan, for people to actually RSVP. No one’s going to show up.”

  With a long-suffering sigh, Kate gave Annabelle’s dress one last brush, then stepped up next to her so they were both framed in the mirror.

  “Of course people are going to show up. You invited the entire town, in addition to all those artists and gallery owners.”

  “Maybe I shouldn’t have invited anyone from town. I mean, what if they think I’m a freak? What if no one ever talks to me again? I’ll have to leave. I’ll have to—”

  “Annabelle, knock it off right now.”

  Kate’s sharp tone made her take a deep breath.

  Whoa, okay. Panic much?

  She had to get a grip or she’d never be able to go through with this.

  And she refused to be a coward. Not now.

  She could do this.

  “Hello-oo! Annabelle? We’re here!”

  Teddy Walters’s voice drifted up from the first floor, bringing a genuine smile to her face.

  When she’d decided to do this, she’d made the decision to include her friends and neighbors. She wanted them to be here when she made her announcement. Might as well tear the bandage away all at once.

  She’d hired Tracy and her staff from the café down the street to do the catering. She’d enlisted Teddy and his mother, Dolores, to check invitations and greet guests as they arrived. Dolores had been a meeting planner before she’d retired and opened her antiques shop. Annabelle couldn’t have put this party together in time without her help. Or Teddy’s. He had an incredible eye for arrangement and had helped her place all the artwork.

  He’d done a better job than she could have imagined possible or ever accomplished by herself.

  And considering the subject material, he’d never once blushed, cracked an inappropriate joke, or questioned her about the collection. He’d been a complete professional.

  She hadn’t been able to thank him enough, but he’d just smiled and said neighbors helped out neighbors.

  Yes, it was high time she stopped shutting everyone out.

  She looked down at her dress.

  “You outdid yourself again,” Annabelle said. “The dresses are amazing.”

  Kate’s champagne-colored silk sheath hugged her slight curves like a glove yet covered her from neck to knee. Her hair fell in a sleek, dark wave over her shoulder, and her dark eyes held a faint trace of anxiety.

  “Are you sure it’s not over the top? I could change into the blue—”

  “Don’t you dare. You look beautiful.”

  Kate’s lips slowly lifted into a smile. “So do you.”

  Her dress was a deep forest-green satin. The contrast made her skin appear practically translucent. The style was deceptively sedate, with short cap leaves and complete coverage in the front. But the back plunged in a vee, leaving her bare to the waist.

  She looked…amazingly like her mother.

  Kate slipped her hand through her elbow and squeezed her arm.

  “We should get downstairs.”

  “Thanks, Kate. You know I love you, right?”

  Kate rolled her eyes but her smile was bright. “Of course you do. Who else would put up with all of this?”

  They headed to the first floor, where Kate veered off to check on the food and Annabelle headed for the gallery. The rest of the shop looked spectacular since she’d spent most of the week pulling it all together.

  But the gallery looked amazing.

  “There you are, Annabelle.” Dolores took her hand and held her at arm’s length. “Don’t you look beautiful?”

  “Dolores, I can’t thank you enough for all your help this week. It really means a lot to me.”

  “Oh, sweetheart, no need for thanks. That’s what friends do. We’re just glad we’re able to be here for you.” Dolores motioned to the walls. “I always did love this series. It was one of your father’s best, I think.”

  Annabelle nearly choked on her next breath as Dolores patted her on the back. “Oh, now, none of that. Buck up, Annabelle. Your grandfather would be very proud of what you’re doing here tonight. Your father’s work deserves to be seen and you have nothing to hide. Don’t worry. We’ll all be here to hold your hand.”

  When she could breathe again, Annabelle asked, “How long have you known?”

  “Oh.” Dolores waved a hand in front of her like the question was inconsequential. “Since shortly after your grandfather and you moved here. It was a painful time still for both of you and people in this town know everyone deserves their privacy to mourn.”

  “But…who else knows?”

  “A few have put it together over the years. Most still don’t. And it won’t matter to them. At least, it shouldn’t. You know there’re going to be some idiots who’ll try to use it against you but you’re stronger than that. Now, I’m going to make sure Teddy knows what he’s supposed to do.”

  Before she left, Dolores raised one soft hand to her cheek and patted her gently. “Everything will be fine. And if anyone tries to start something, we’ll sic Teddy on them. That boy could talk a politician to death.”

  Dolores turned and walked away, a two-hundred pound, bleached-blonde mother tiger in a bright blue pantsuit.

  Annabelle had no doubt Dolores would tackle anyone who tried to embarrass or humiliate her tonight.

  Her eyes dampened and she blinked fast, biting her tongue so she didn’t ruin her makeup. They’d kept her secret. All this time and no one had said a word.

  Okay. No tears. This was no time for them. And no need for them.

  Unless Jared never showed up.

  Then she’d shed those tears in private.

  Nearly two hundred people mingled in the shop.

  The turnout surprised Annabelle. Nearly all of the art crowd she’d invited had shown up. Dealers, gallery owners, agents, and artists mingled with her friends and neighbors.

  Turns out she’d chosen a slow night in the art world for her grand reopening. It was a little…overwhelming.

  Many of the guests had known her parents. And several recognized Annabelle immediately. Their amazement had turned to remembrance, and Annabelle had listened to wonderful stories about her parents.

  Enough to keep her mind off the fact that Jared hadn’t shown wup.

  Maybe he hadn’t received the invitation. Maybe he just hadn’t cared.

  If tha
t was the case…Well, she’d live through that too.

  An hour into the night, she walked into the gallery and, with a deep breath and a smile, she prepared to tear away any remaining bandages.

  “I’d like to thank you all for coming, especially on such short notice. My name is Annabelle and my parents were Peter and Catrina O’Malley and Danton Romero. Peter O’Malley was an incredible talent and for many years, I’ve let fear dictate how I deal with my father’s legacy. That stops here.”

  “Jared, chill, dear. We’re only an hour late. The flat tire didn’t set us back that much.”

  Jared stifled a restless sigh as he reached into the backseat of Tyler’s Mercedes to help Beatrice from the car.

  “I know, Nana. I just don’t want her to think we’re not coming.”

  Beatrice patted his arm as Jared shortened the length of his stride to accommodate his grandmother’s shorter legs. “I think she’ll be more than pleased to see you.”

  Jared wasn’t so sure. Yes, she’d sent the invitation, but it could have been more out of gratitude than a desire to see him again.

  Judging by the amount of cars parked along the street and in the store’s lot, she had a full house tonight, which was great.

  He’d just wanted to be there from the beginning to make sure no one hassled her.

  Which probably would’ve earned him a glare from those gorgeous green eyes.

  He had no doubt she could handle herself and anything else thrown her way. The woman had a backbone of steel.

  And he wanted her. All of her.

  Christ, he’d been an idiot.

  Opening the door to usher his grandmother into the shop, he checked out the remodel. She’d taken much of his advice but added her own stamp to everything. It certainly set the shop apart from anything else on the strip.

  He didn’t have time to take a close look though because he heard Belle’s voice coming from the new gallery space.

  Leaving Beatrice to his brother, he headed toward her.

  “No, I won’t be selling any of my father’s work but I do plan to promote and sell the work of other artists, particularly new artists.”