by Jeny Stone
“Was he as hot as everyone said?” A female voice yelled from somewhere in the bar. Hannah’s soft laughter lit up her face. She pointed and winked at whoever asked the question.
“Whatever you imagined happened or didn’t happen, is no one’s business but mine. I had already given Jay back his ring. Of course, he was busy humping his brains out at the time, so his recollection might be a bit fuzzy. I hope some of you keep in touch. You can always reach me by email. The ones that knew about Jay’s dick diving activities and neglected to tell me… can kiss my ass. You know who you are and so do I. Unlike everyone that laughed behind my back, I am saying what I have to say to your faces. You can stop contacting me for information about my wild sexual encounter for Jay’s benefit. That is my business and surely not Jay’s. It’s been a fun ride guys… I have a lot of good memories from all the good times in this bar… but this is goodbye.”
The music returned, drowning any further conversation. Larry extended his hand to help her down. In a crisscross wave of her hands, Hannah refused his offer and stepped back on the barstool. She bent her knees to jump to the floor. She took a few steps before she high-fived a man as she passed his table. The man turned to stare at her ass just as another man grabbed her by the arm. The hateful glare she pointedly directed at him confirmed that must be Jay. The video shook and ended.
Garret’s amusement from her ballsy confrontation dissipated after witnessing the last disturbing image. Garret picked up his cell phone and speed dialed Jeff. Jeff answered on the first ring. If there were the slightest mark on her, someone would regret it for a long time to come.
Jeff started talking immediately after answering the call. “She’s fine. I figured you would call. I jumped up to stop Jay but Larry vaulted over the bar and beat me to it.”
“Did… he… hurt… her?” He enunciated each word demanding a truthful answer.
Jeff snorted a laugh. “Hell no. She whacked him upside the head with a beer bottle before anyone could stop her. I gave her a ride home.”
“You what?” Garret stood, prepared to confront Jeff in person.
“Oh no, I know she’s off limits. A couple of her girlfriends and I gave her a ride home. I didn’t think you would mind. The girls stayed at her apartment with her. I went back to the bar since my chivalry cost me a sure thing. Jay went home with some other girl so I figured he wouldn’t cause her any more trouble. I would have called you last night if I thought she was in danger.”
“You did the right thing. I appreciate your chivalry although I’m not completely convinced that’s all it was.” That woman had dropped into his life at the most inconvenient time possible. With his father semi-retired, all the family business rested on his shoulders. His responsibilities were massive but doable as long as he focused his full attention on getting the job done. Now, after years of casual sex with numerous women he found one that sparked more than just his dick. Thanks to her games, which he normally would have enjoyed, she roamed free with him too preoccupied with work to play along.
“You’re damn straight. You’ll get tired of her soon enough, I’m just laying the groundwork. Until then, I’ll respect and protect your interest.” Jeff’s assumption she was in the same category of all his other conquest raised questions in his mind. She wasn’t and he failed to comprehend why. Women were a candy store of sweet pleasures to be enjoyed, savored, and consumed before moving on to the next piece. Hannah, was sweeter than most with a hidden surprise of innocence beautifully packaged. She had offered him a special gift without demanding something in return. He needed answers as to why. Unlike him, women didn’t want him for pure sexual satisfaction. They spread their legs to unveil their mantrap with a goal in mind. Her goal remained a mystery.
“See that you do.” Garret returned to his chair. Jeff’s employment status was questionable. Garret suspected Jeff was attempting to cock-block him. Of course, there wasn’t a chance in hell Jeff would succeed. Especially, after Jeff lost his income and access to the town car.
CHAPTER FOUR
Hannah purchased her business wardrobe with a cautious eye searching for subtlety or pleasantly professional as she liked to call it. She never knew with certainty if her client was male or female with the anonymity of using screen names and emails. The striking blue silk camisole added the pleasant splash of color to her current attire. Her form fitting black pencil skirt with a coordinating one button short suit jacket gave her the professional appearance she required to deal with potential buyers.
There were some clients that if they got one hint of the down-home, fun-loving Hannah they thought they could have her for lunch. Taking advantage of anyone with lesser means or age seemed to boosts their over inflated egos. Even worse was when they thought they were doing her a favor by purchasing her merchandise. That was when they expected a favor in return. She had walked away from a few clients, placing them on her never-again list. An attractive twenty-four year old female in a dick filled business world needed to take certain precautions, which she did. With her hair tightly pinned in a bun to the back of her head and large black rim glasses, Hannah waited for her client to arrive.
She went to extremes to maintain her anonymity when meeting a client in person. Introduced as only Hannah, she was a representative of Aged Treasures, an internet based business, and nothing more. The fact she was the sole owner and only employee was for her knowledge only.
With several climate controlled storage buildings as her warehouse and her apartment as her office, Aged Treasures had netted her a comfortable income. What had started out as a quest to learn her ancestry, along with her love for antiques, and her history degree, allowed her to become one of the top internet antique dealers on the east coast.
A legend of a hidden treasure involving her great-grandmother, Louise Abernathy, started her search to learn more about her heritage. The loss of Louise’s true love, Grant Presley, in a mining accident was the beginning of the legend. Their love, scorned by his wealthy family, forced him to leave to find his own wealth. After Louise heard the scandalous rumors of Grant sending her gold during his hiatus, she retaliated. Being a talented artist she painted four landscapes and a portrait of her and Grant. She sold the landscapes supposedly to patrons located on the four main points of a compass. Then she went to face Grant’s family. She presented the portrait to the people she held responsible for the loss of her one true love and the source of the rumors that portrayed her as a gold-digging mistress. She admitted to hiding a treasure and the key to the treasure was the four landscapes.
Hannah had heard the story every night when her grandmother, Abbey Greer, tucked her into bed until she was six years old. That was when her grandmother had died. The story, true or not, had sparked Hannah’s curiosity. She built her life around finding the truth of the legend. Her education in history, her career in antiques, and now her move to the family cottage she inherited all stemmed from a deeply seeded need to connect with her past.
Hannah checked her watch. She had taken the time away, from her move in progress, to meet with this insistent client. Now, the buyer was ten minutes late. In another five minutes, she was out the door, headed back to her apartment to finish packing. Known only as P. Garret, the buyer contacted her through her web site in regards to a nineteen-o-eight Hampton mahogany sideboard. She had one in storage in perfect condition. A quick sale made one less thing she had to deal with or she wouldn‘t be here now.
“Miss, are you with Aged Treasures?” The server interrupted her thoughts.
“Yes I am.” The woman waved her arm motioning for her client, Hannah presumed.
The hair on the back of her neck prickled with a slight sniff of a familiar cologne. Two men passed by her. They pulled out chairs to join her at the table. Her stomach heatedly twitched. A hot flash swept over her, sparked by a memory. Two imposingly large men faced her with only the teensy tiny table as a barrier. One man was mid-fifties, bald from a razor cut, and had a bodyguard build. She remembered seeing him at
the bar. The bulge in the side of his jacket suggested he was armed. Maybe he was a cop as her friends suspected. The other man filled his chair with one leg extended and the other bent at the knee. His venomous eyes locked onto her. Sitting directly across from her was her handsome stranger, taker of her virginity and the man she thought she would never lay eyes on again.
Her body entered suspended animation but her mind wasn’t as lucky. The urge to laugh, cry, run like hell or jump his bones, all flashed through her thoughts. Her voice became useless without her breath that refused to return. His foreboding mood left her bewildered. Had he not recognized her or had he recognized her? What the hell?
Shock swept over Garret the second he saw her and he wasn’t accustomed to anything shocking him. Fucking hell, this was about to get very interesting. He almost smiled when he saw her ridiculous attempt to disguise her beauty. He imagined her removing the glasses, tossing them away then releasing her hair, shaking it free. A slow sensual strip tease would follow. Hell yes; that was definitely added to his list of things he wanted from her.
“Two scotches and a frozen margarita for the lady.” Garret ordered then sized up his sexy adversary. She had the painting. Moments after she won the bid they met. Was their meeting a coincidence…not likely? Her innocence had deceived him or he might have put two and two together. The chances of him connecting the two separate incidents seemed farfetched. There wasn’t any way she could have known he would be driving down that street at that exact time. His plan to face Ted was a spur of the moment event.
After her initial wide-eyed glance, she now wore an air of confidence. Her poker face was well rehearsed. After just watching the video of her in the bar, he knew she switched faces quickly and efficiently. The mystery of his mystery woman just increased. With his pants tightly zipped, she was about to meet the business end of Garret Presley. He would damn sure unzip his pants later, after, he obtained the painting.
Okay, he remembered so why was he so pissed? She found her voice and corrected his order with the server. “No margarita, thank you. I’m fine. Put everything on my tab.” She reminded herself, business first, panic later.
Facing her angry stranger, her reasons for meeting clients in a public place were crystal clear. With the feeling of being a hungry predator‘s prey she doubted her safety measures were adequate.
“Do you want anything to eat? Lunch or appetizers?” His cold soulless eyes bored into hers. Many reasons for this meeting popped into her mind, none of which explained his dangerously foul mood. She couldn’t fathom anything she had done that would cause him any anger, let alone, this borderline rage.
“No thank you. But make our drinks doubles.” His gaze remained on her.
His clenched jaw line pointed to his jutting chin. Her sexy mystery man had disappeared and a bastard replacement had taken over his body. “And you are?” What the hell, she might as well know his name. She might need it for the police report later.
“Garret, and this is Jones, my procurement manager. I remember you calling me God quite often when we first met. If you’re more comfortable with that name, I’ll understand. I know who you are Hannah. I‘m surprised there‘s not an engagement ring on your finger.” She had perfected her façade but she couldn’t control the pinkish buds of color that bloomed over her cheeks.
He wasn’t as surprised as she was to be sitting across from him, she was sure. This whole situation was out of kilter with the business meeting she expected. She had changed the original meeting place from the Eleganté to avoid the miniscule chance she would accidentally run into him. She needed to stay on track and run like hell at the first opportunity. Hannah removed her glasses. The disguise was useless since he had seen her with far less. She hooked the glasses on the side of her purse. “Mr. Garret, you said you were interested in a sideboard and I have several. These are the certificates of authenticity and detailed pictures.” She slid the portfolio across the table.
Garret stopped its slide with a smack of his hand, sharply pushing it back. “Not interested.” Her avoidance of any personal information raised his suspicions as to her motives. Their original chance meeting might have been a well-planned ruse. With the painting she obtained being one of four, she might think he was in possession of the other three. The legend surrounding the four paintings foretold of a treasure. Surely, she wasn’t one of those lunatics searching for lost gold.
She floundered in confusion. None of this made a lick of sense. Warning signs flashed in her mind. His stern angry demeanor glued her to the chair with her apprehension of saying or doing something to make matters worse. Nevertheless, the reason for the danger remained hidden lurking behind the grayish blue windows that held her gaze. She had two choices. She could trust the danger signs and leave now or stay and face the impending wreckage. Hell yes, there was going to be wreckage one way or another. “Then exactly why am I here if it’s not business related?”
“This meeting is strictly business. I would handle this situation exactly the same no matter who was sitting in that chair. Remember the investment I missed out on the night we met. It was a painting. You’re here to tell me how you are fixing bids. Then, you will give me the painting you stole from me. I warned you then someone would regret taking what I wanted. Odd that it turned out to be you.” Ice coated his sternly spoken words.
Oh, so this meeting wasn’t personal. That was a relief. This was a business meeting. She refused to back down with her integrity on the line. With the same professionalism that helped to build her reputation, Hannah replied calmly. “To begin with Mr. Garret, I don’t steal or fix anything. And I resent your implication that I do. I work hard to get what I want and I don’t leave it to chance or some lackey to do my job for me. I win bids because I research the value of the merchandise and I outthink my opponents. If you have a problem with losing a particular bid, then I suggest you contact the web site and lodge a complaint. It is bonded and insured against fraud.”
Strong men had cracked under the icy glare of his ruthless demeanor. They knew his reputation, she obviously, did not. She remained calm on the outside. The fire burning behind her crystal blue eyes caught his attentive assessment. He planned to coax her temper to the surface. Heated words usually produced more information than well thought out calmly told lies.
“Let’s cut through the bull so we can move on to more personal matters. You have the painting. I want the painting. I’ll give you twenty percent over your buying price.” He watched her rapidly blink the surprise from her eyes while stretching her sleek tasty neck.
“Most of what I purchase is for a client and by request. If you’re interested in something specific, make a list and price range. For a ten percent finder’s fee, I will make every effort to locate the items.”
Not everything could be bought and it was high time Mr. Garret was taught that fact of life. If he wanted the painting enough to track it down after the fact, he should have bid higher. Not that it would have helped win the bid. That painting belonged with her. She would have won at all cost.
“I want that painting.” He demanded slamming his palm on the table.
She twitched, narrowing her eyes for a brief second. The loud smack shook her confidence. Suddenly, his powerful strength that she had found so appealing wasn’t. She stood her ground, feeling a responsibility to protect a piece of her family legacy. Not to mention, she spent three years of her life tracking down that painting. Now, he thought he could buy it just because he carried a wad of cash.
“If I’m thinking of the same painting, I’ve heard that painting has made its way back to family and is no longer on the market. What’s your interest?” The legend attached to all four paintings made them a hot commodity. Her handsome stranger hadn’t seemed like the fortune hunting type. He might want it for the novelty of being a piece of a treasure map. You never know about people. Sometimes first impressions were deceiving. Of course, she hadn’t been the least bit interested in the business side of him.
“You heard wrong. I’m interested in its history.” His irritation seeped into his voice. His patience had reached its limit. This painting nonsense was taking more time than expected. She was supposed to be in his bed, not on his hit list. Taking the time to break her in first hadn’t occurred to him. After all, he thought he had already accomplished that feat. She jumped into his bed the first time, so what was her hang up now?
“I’ve researched its history and will send you a copy of my findings, if you like. At no charge, of course.” In her politest voice, she told him to take his money and stick-it.
Damn, what was her problem with this painting? “How much money will it take to get the location of the painting?”
She was now officially offended. “If I knew the location, I wouldn’t share that information for any price, without the owner’s consent. My integrity isn’t for sale.” He crossed the line from business banter to insulting. She worked damn hard to build her reputation and he thought it was for sale. He was in for a rude awakening.
“Listen, little missy, everything has a price. You sold your ass for two drinks.” The sweet taste of success washed over his palate as he watched her eyes widen then slowly narrow. He found the raw nerve that would get him his answers.
Oh-no-he-didn’t … throw their night together up in her face. Her temper combusted, flash burning through her veins. There wasn’t one iota of her one hundred and ten pounds that could be bought, inside or out. She gave herself to the bastard and he better damn well realize the difference. The absurdity of her lashing thoughts erupted as nervous laughter. Oh great, a whore could be bought, but not her, no, she was a slut that gave it away for free. With her emotions short circuiting, and her obvious loss of control, it was past time to end this meeting.
Expecting her to explode she shocked the shit out of him. His nymph laughed at his attempt to piss her off. Her laughter ignited a red hot rage. Damn, she had succeeded in turning the tables on him.