by Faver, JD
“It sure does.” The gallery owner came to stand beside them.
“Miss Gilman,” Max said breathlessly. “I can’t tell you how much we appreciate this opportunity.”
Cherise turned to Willa, a look of distaste on her face. “And just who is this little darling? Did she come with you?”
Max reeled from the rebuff. But, why not? This woman didn’t know her from Adam. To Cherise, she was just some helper Willa had dragged along to help set up. So be it. She’d play her part...for now.
Jon returned, slipping in beside Max. He embraced her with one arm, a wide grin across his face. “Cherise, have you met my friend, Millie?”
Max turned to Willa with panic in her eyes.
Cherise threw her arms around Jon’s neck and planted a kiss on his mouth. Her red lipstick left a smear across his lips. “Hello Jon,” she said in a low sultry voice.
Jon detached her arms and sent an embarrassed glance in Max’s direction. “Hello Cherise.”
Willa came to the rescue. “Doesn’t this piece look fabulous? It’s going to be a cornerstone for the whole event.” She produced a tissue from her handbag and offered it to Jon.
“Yes,” Jon agreed, wiping the stain from his face. “It’s stellar. Where is the talented Max Foster anyway? I thought he’d be here by now.”
“There he is.” Willa pointed out the window to where Merrick was helping unload the paintings.
“Oh, Mama!” Cherise pressed her hand to her ample bosom. “He’s just a great big old hunka burnin’ love, isn’t he?”
Willa chortled softly. “So I’ve heard.”
Cherise adjusted the neckline of her slinky red spandex top, allowing a little more cleavage to spill out. “The patrons are just going to eat him right up, if I don’t do it first.”
Willa gave her a look and strode quickly through the door. Max saw her pull Merrick off the truck.
Max cleared her throat. “He has a girlfriend he’s serious about.”
Jon turned his head sharply, a scowl drawing his brows together.
Cherise swept her with a glance as if dismissing her completely. “Not anymore.” She teetered to the back of the gallery where Max saw her repairing her lipstick.
“Well,” Max commented. “She’s charming.”
“Don’t blame her,” Jon said. “She didn’t know Max was in a committed relationship.” There was an edge to his voice Max didn’t understand. The warmth she associated with his eyes seemed to have turned to something hard and unreadable.
“She seems to like you a lot, too.” Max felt her lower jaw jutting out. “And what are you? Her kissing cousin?”
“We’re old friends,” he said. “And we have occasion to work together from time to time. Sort of like you and Max.”
“I sincerely don’t think so.” Max turned on her heel and marched out to the truck where Willa and Merrick were deep in conversation.
“Max,” Willa said. “Explain to your brother just how important it is for him to be ‘Max’, just for a little while.”
Max paced back and forth beside the truck. “Please help us out here, Merrick. It’s all a big mess. If you could compromise your lofty principles for a couple of days, I’d appreciate it.”
“You want me to lie for you?” Merrick gave her the denim blue gaze over the top of his mirrored Aviator sunglasses. “You want me to pretend to be an artist and take your bows for you?”
Max drew in a deep breath and expelled it slowly. “Yes.”
“But I thought that was what it was all about, launching your career, getting your face out there.”
Max pressed her lips together and blinked back her tears. “My face isn’t important. Getting my name out there is. I may never get an opportunity like this again.”
Merrick ran his fingers through his hair. “I do not understand how you got yourself into this mess, but I’ll do whatever the two of you think best.”
“Thanks Merrick.” Willa gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ve got to run. If I hang out here much longer, I’ll have to strangle Cherise Gilman with my bare hands. Max, don’t let her molest Merrick.”
“I’ll do my best.” Max and Merrick watched Willa walk rapidly toward her Jaunty Jetta.
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into these things.” Merrick shook his head. “What does an artist do, anyway?”
“Don’t be cute. You know the drill. There’s nothing I do that you aren’t familiar with. You know how to build and prep canvasses. You know how I paint. Just smile, be charming and look handsome.”
Merrick raised his brows, giving her a look she’d seen so many times before. He was giving her a silent brotherly warning. It said, don’t screw this up. “You better stick to me like glue and chime in with the right answers if anyone asks questions.”
“And you’d better gird your loins because Cherise Gilman is preparing to have a run at you.”
Merrick grinned. “My loins are off limits.”
Max snorted. “Not to everyone.”
~*~
Willa Beth Shaw was not at her best. She stomped half a block to where she’d parked, with her jaw clamped tight like a vise. She hadn’t gotten much sleep. She shouldn’t have let the sensuous Cherise Gilman get to her. If Merrick could be so easily lured away from her, then he wasn’t hers to begin with. Easy come. Easy go. Right? She unlocked the Jetta with her key remote.
“Willa! Wait.”
Willa turned to see Jon approaching her wearing a less than friendly expression. She leaned back against the car door and waited for him.
“What’s wrong, Jon?”
“It’s Millie,” he said.
She huffed out an impatient sigh. “There’s nothing wrong with Millie. She’s crazy for you.”
“She’s still involved with Max Foster. I saw them together and she just told Cherise that she was his girlfriend.” He paced back and forth along the sidewalk.
Willa gave him a wide-eyed look. “I’m sure you’re mistaken, Jon. They’re just good friends. There’s nothing romantic going on between them.”
“Don’t lie to me, Willa. You don’t know how much I hate liars. You can tell me anything directly to my face, but don’t tell me a lie.”
“She’s my best friend, Jon. I know her. She’s in love with you.”
He was shaking his head as he paced. “I don’t know what she feels for me, but she’s got this proprietary thing going on with Max. They’ve been together a long time and she feels like she owns him. You can see it in the way she looks at him.”
Willa raised her eyebrows, searching for some words of comfort that wouldn’t out Max. “We’ve all been friends for a long time, Jon. She’s got a lot of comfort with him but it’s not a physical relationship.”
Jon whirled around, an angry spark glinting from his eyes. “Don’t treat me like an idiot. I can see the electricity between them.”
“I can see the electricity between the two of you.” Willa pushed away from the car. “You’re not going to believe anything I say, but believe this: She’s in love with you. She thinks of Merrick as a big brother. She’s protective of him and she does think she owns his ass.” Willa put her hand on Jon’s chest and grasped his shirt front, pulling him down to her eye level. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. I own his ass.”
She got into the Jetta, slammed the door, and jammed her key into the ignition. She lowered the window. “Jon, if you blow this with her, you’ll kick yourself for the rest of your lonely, miserable life.”
Willa revved the engine and pulled out with a screech of tiny Jetta tires.
~*~
Jon stood on the curb, watching Willa zip into traffic. She was right. If he lost Millie he would regret it forever, but at what cost? He didn’t want to lose her but he didn’t want to play the fool either.
Slowly, he walked back to the gallery, Willa’s words echoing in his head.
Millie and Max huddled by the truck with their heads close together. When they spotted him they st
epped apart, the artist disappearing into the truck.
Millie walked to meet him. She stood looking up into Jon’s face. “I’m sorry, I got so snippy. It really upset me when Cherise kissed you. I guess I was jealous.”
“Really?” The smoldering anger Jon felt cooled a little. “I know how that feels.”
“Cherise is a beautiful woman and I felt threatened.”
“And now you don’t?”
She smiled. “I didn’t say that, but if I love you, I have to trust you, don’t I?”
Staring into her eyes was like diving into a clear blue pool, the depths of which he could never reach.
He drew a deep breath and let it out. “Yes,” he said. “You do. And I have to trust you.” Jon felt some knot in his gut unsnarling. “I’d never lie to you Millie.”
She nodded. “I believe you.”
Jon threaded his fingers through her hair and bent toward her. When their lips met, he felt a stirring in his gut and it wasn’t from anger. Her lips parted and he devoured them. When they pulled away from each other, he caught the expression on her face. It was soft and unguarded. Her love was right out there in plain sight. She’d kissed him right in front of her boyfriend.
Jon glanced back toward the gallery and saw Max Foster standing with Cherise Gilman. Max didn’t react but Cherise glared daggers. She couldn’t still be upset because he’d stopped seeing her. That was ancient history. It was never serious and it was over months ago.
CHAPTER NINTEEN
Max was riddled with anxiety. Her lies had grown to involve everyone in her immediate vicinity. She was rapidly sinking into a bottomless pit of quicksand, unable to move, unable to save herself, unable to keep from hurting the man she loved.
Jon took her to lunch. They didn’t talk much but he told her he loved her several times. All during the meal, he kept looking at her. That wasn’t unusual in itself, but it was the way he was looking at her that made her feel uneasy.
Jon smiled, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. He looked like he had some inner sadness that he meant to share with her, but he didn’t.
Max wasn’t about to ask him either. She didn’t want to open that can of worms. She had way too many open cans of worms sitting around already.
After their meal, Jon drove her back to the gallery. He found a parking space a block away and they held hands as they walked back to the gallery.
“Are the people who come to the opening going to be able to find places to park?” Max asked. “If everyone you invited shows up there won’t be a parking space for eight blocks.”
“Don’t worry, Millie,” Jon said. “I’ve arranged for valet parking at a lot not far from here.”
“You seem to have thought of everything.” She smiled up at him. “You’re the man in charge.”
“Am I?” Jon stopped in front of the gallery and drew her into his arms.
“Yes,” she laughed. “You’re the man.”
His voice had an edge to it. “I just want to be your man. Your only man.”
She smiled. “I thought I was the one who was feeling insecure.”
“It’s catching,” he said tersely. “So tell me, am I the only man in your life?”
“I have a father.”
“The drug pusher.”
She giggled. “Yes, and a brother.”
“And Max.” His eyes were riveted on her face.
She sighed, pressing her lips together. “We can’t forget Max.”
He took her face in both his hands and gave her a lingering kiss. When Max opened her eyes the sad look was back to haunt him.
“I love you,” she said. “Can’t that be enough?”
“It’s enough.” He kissed her again and then held her at arm’s length, to gaze into her eyes. “I have another appointment at my office, but I can come see you later tonight. If you want me to, that is.”
“Of course I want you to come over. I’ll see you at the loft.”
She watched him walk away, a huge lump forming in her throat. She wanted to call him back, but she couldn’t.
When she entered the gallery, she saw Merrick squatting on the floor beside the Oleg Cantwell painting. It was laying face up with a huge rip in it.
A wave of dizziness roiled up from her stomach. She felt faint. She’d worked so hard on this painting and now it was ruined. She gasped for breath.
Cherise Gilman was standing beside Merrick. “I’m so clumsy. I just don’t know how it happened.”
Merrick looked furious. “You put your foot through it. That’s how.”
Max felt the room tilt but tried to maintain her equilibrium. She knelt down beside Merrick, tears welling in her eyes. “What happened?” she asked.
“This big old painting fell down and I accidentally stepped on it.” Cherise was hovering over Merrick.
He raised his gaze to meet Max’s. She knew from his expression that he was about to blow.
Unsteadily, Max reached for his arm. “Let’s load this one back on the truck.” With a tight little smile on her lips, she straightened and faced Cherise Gilman, her emotions tightly in check. “This painting was valued at over twelve thousand dollars, Miss Gilman. We’ll need your insurance information to make a claim.” She experienced a small sense of satisfaction as Cherise Gilman paled. Max paused a moment and said, “I’ll need that information now, please.”
Cherise turned and teetered to her office to rummage through her desk.
“Way to go, sis.” Merrick stood up and lifted the painting. “I witnessed the whole thing. She was hitting on me, big time, but when she saw Jon kiss you goodbye, she had some sort of little hissy fit. She knocked the painting down and put her foot through it. It was definitely deliberate.”
“Listen Merrick, I know you’re angry. I am too, but I can’t afford to completely alienate this woman.”
“I’m calling Willa,” Merrick said. “She’s your agent and she needs to know what happened.” He walked outside and had a cell phone conversation that involved a lot of angry gestures. When he returned to the gallery a muscle in his jaw was still twitching. “She’s on her way. Willa is totally pissed.”
“Merrick, could you help me get the painting back to the loft.” Max tried to give him a little smile.
“You might as well toss it in the dumpster.”
“I know, but I feel completely violated. She murdered my painting and I want to mourn in private.”
Merrick got the truck driver to help him and they lay the large canvas flat and closed the back. He took Max by the arm and guided her to the front door.
“The driver said he’ll take you to the loft. Since this crazy woman thinks I’m the artist, I think a little righteous anger is called for. Don’t worry about anything, Max. I won’t go too far.”
She nodded and got in the truck. The drive to the loft was accomplished quickly because traffic was relatively light. The delivery men escorted Max and the ravaged painting up in the freight elevator. They leaned the canvas against the wall inside the loft and left silently.
Max sank onto the futon and gazed at the cadaverous remains of her work. Tears rolled down her cheeks, unchecked. All of her excitement over the one-man show dissolved. This was all that was left.
Sherman poked his head in the door and she related the whole story. He got beer from her refrigerator and they sipped in silent solitude.
“I told you, babe,” he said. “That Cherise Gilman is one stone cold bitch.”
“I feel so helpless,” she said. “I need the show, but I’m so hurt and angry, I want to choke the life out of the woman.”
“Maybe someday we’ll open our own gallery. We can treat artists better than this.” Sherman rose from the futon and planted a kiss on top of her head. “Sorry babe.”
“Thanks, Sherman.” She watched him leave, shaking his head and muttering as his dreads danced.
A short time later, she heard Merrick and Willa talking as they climbed the stairs. When they entered the loft Merrick was gr
inning. Willa looked like she’d slain a dragon.
“Max,” he said. “You should have seen Willa in action. I mean, she’s a little terror.”
Willa flopped down beside Max and tossed her a folded piece of paper. “We settled out of court.”
Max unfolded the paper and discovered it to be a check in the amount of twelve thousand dollars. She started laughing and couldn’t stop. It was suddenly too funny.
Merrick cast a worried glance in her direction.
“It’s all on me,” she said. “Everything that’s happened is entirely my fault.”
“How did you arrive at that brilliant conclusion?” he asked.
“It’s my karma catching up with me. Everything is so messed up. This painting is just a symbol of everything else in my life.” Her tears erupted again.
Willa put both arms around her and patted her shoulder. “Gotta gut up, Max. It’s a painting and it was for sale. Now it’s been bought and paid for. Put the check in the bank and move on.”
Merrick sat on the other side, a worried expression on his face. “It’ll be okay. There are a lot of other paintings for the show.”