“Zoe, I’m sorry I lied about who painted those pictures. I never should have done that. I didn’t know you well when I concocted that ruse, but once I got to know you better I should have told you the truth. I have no excuse, because there is none good enough to condone either my stupidity or my dishonesty. I wouldn’t blame you if you called the cops on me yourself.”
“I considered it.” Her gaze bored into him and there was no forgiveness in it.
“Russ told me he explained that the woman Fredrick Barker referred to is not my lover.” Jeff closed his eyes briefly. “She’s my sister, Jennifer. She’s the creator of all of those paintings. I can only claim the sculptures as my own. Since I’m sure Fredrick knew her relation to me, he obviously withheld that information to put me in the worst possible light, and to hurt you badly as well.”
Zoe nodded, not ready to tell him that she’d already spoken to his sister. “Fredrick is an expert at twisting the knife, once he has one to use. You gave him an excellent weapon. My trust.”
Jeff winced. “I know things between us can never be the same, but if you’ll listen I’d like to tell you everything now, so there will be no more surprises and no more ammunition for that bastard to use against me.”
Zoe nodded. “That would be good. I’m not sure I can handle any more surprises.”
Jeff scrubbed his hands over his face and cleared his throat again. Where to start? He opened then closed his mouth.
Zoe’s expression didn’t soften. She put her glass down. “Can I get you some water, or coffee?”
“Water would be great.” He’d get it himself but no longer felt he had the right to even that much intimacy.
She got up and returned with a chilled bottle.
Her fingertips brushed his as he accepted it and the familiar tingle shot through him. She rubbed her fingers together as though she felt something too. He opened the bottle and drank half of it on long gulps.
Stop wasting her time and get on with it, dickhead.
“First, about Jennifer, my sister. She is an amazing artist. And she used to be a good dancer as well. But a few years ago when I was driving her home from her dance class, we were in an accident.” As usual, the memory caused his heart to thud heavily in his chest. “She was hurt. Badly. Her face was . . .” Jeff had to stop until he had control of his voice again. “She needed—needs—plastic surgery.” He took another swallow of water. “Jen hasn’t gone outside, at least where anyone could see her, for two years now. She lives like a hermit.”
“The day I first met you I thought you were a gift from heaven, sent to help me make amends for my carelessness.” At the memory of that day a slight smile curved his lips. Then the current reality slapped it off. I’ve been saving every dime I can scrounge together but plastic surgery is expensive.
“I knew her paintings were good. I was positive they would sell and make enough money for her surgeries.” He shook his head slowly. “She adamantly refused to meet any gallery owners and I thought you’d never accept any paintings if you couldn’t meet the artist. So I . . .”
“Lied.”
“Yes.” He didn’t look away. If she would hate him for this, so be it. His mistake, his punishment. “Once Jen had her operations we planned to tell you everything. But . . .”
“Yeah.” Zoe tipped her head. “The best laid plans and all that.”
Zoe finished her wine and carefully set the glass on the coffee table. She loved this man beyond all reason. But she hated that he’d lied to her. Which was why she wanted to hear Jeff make his case. She needed to judge how sorry losing her trust would make him. Did he love her? Or was he merely afraid she’d put him in jail?
She had her own guilt, true, but it wasn’t the same. She’d not told him lies, merely sinned by omission. After all, her problem with Fredrick the Sleaze shouldn’t really have impacted Jeff at all. She’d always felt sure that somehow she’d get out of the unspoken agreement with Fredrick. That he’d never really expose her as an art forger—which she never knowingly was anyway. That he’d never actually threaten her with jail.
She was wrong about Fredrick, though. He had no scruples, and wouldn’t hesitate to use her copy of that painting to get what he wanted. A new gallery, renovated, up and running, all the hard, back-breaking groundwork done, and her as his employee, not even as his partner. She shuddered to think of how far he would go. With the sword of Damocles hanging over her head, how could she refuse him . . . anything? She’d thought she was so smart. She’d show him what she could accomplish. Rub his nose in his smarmy arrogance. And all the time he was manipulating her into creating the newest gallery in his chain.
Would Jeff believe she was innocent? Would her reluctance to tell him about the damned copy proclaim her guilt? Up until that fateful night when he proposed, she’d never been absolutely certain that she wasn’t merely a short-term fling. That there weren’t other women tucked away somewhere. Each one hoping that she was ‘The One.’ She hadn’t trusted Jeff enough to take the chance that her ethics problem might make him walk away.
So maybe their trust issues were the same after all.
Why did life always have to be so damn hard? She imagined her mother shaking her head and saying “Life is hard only if you do not have the courage to do what is right. I know you are stronger than that.”
“I’m so sorry, Zoe. Please don’t punish Jen for my mistakes. I will take all the blame, but from now on, could you still sell Jen’s paintings? As hers, of course. I’ll—”
“Stop, Jeff.” Zoe scooted closer to him and put a finger to his lips. “I’ve sold Jen’s paintings for the past two days, not as yours but as J. Petrosky’s. And of course I’ll keep selling them, they are beautiful. And how could I refuse to help a sister and brother who love each other so much? I plan to meet her after we’re done here.”
The nearly empty water bottle slipped from Jeff’s fingers. He snatched it up. “You’re going to meet Jen?”
Zoe nodded. “She called and asked me to come see her, so Mandy’s driving us over to your place later.” Her mouth curved up at the corners. “Naturally she claimed this whole plan was her idea and that she’d talked you into going along with it . . .”
“No. No, that’s not true, Zoe. It was my idea.”
“Hush. You two can battle it out over whose idea it was some other time. It doesn’t really matter to me.” She put a finger against his lips again. Because she simply had to touch him. The look of relief on his face tugged at her heartstrings. For the first time in forty-eight hours she could take a deep breath without doubt clutching her. Jeff reached to pull her into his arms but she flattened her palm against his chest.
“My turn for confession.” She told him everything she’d told Russ. Then she held her breath and waited for his verdict.
“I don’t know how yet, sweet cheeks, but we will fix this. Anyone who knows you half as well as I do, knows that there isn’t a dishonest bone in your body. I’ll make him admit his guilt if I have to tie him down and torture a confession out of him. He’ll never hurt the women I love.”
Not a single word of accusation or recrimination. Jeff simply drew her into his arms and held her. She sighed and settled her head against his chest. She’d figure out a way to fix this without Jeff putting himself in any more danger. He’d already sacrificed too much.
Fredrick and Jeff were an explosive combination and letting them get together would only lead to even bigger problems.
“I can take you over to meet Jen,” Jeff offered.
“No, I think this would be better woman to woman. Mandy is coming by as soon as I give her a call to tell her I haven’t murdered you. She’ll drive me over.”
“Well, as long as you’re going to play it that way, I’m going to have a talk with Dev. We need to make some plans.” Jeff held his hands up, palms out. “Do
n’t ask. This is guy stuff. You and Mandy do your thing, Dev and I’ll do ours. Don’t worry. Everything will be fine.”
Oh God, where had she heard that before?
Twenty minutes later Zoe and Amanda parked in front of Jeff’s door. As Zoe went to knock, the door two units down opened a crack.
“Over here, Zoe.”
Jen let them in and closed the door quickly behind them. Hiding was a hard habit to break. The lamp on her desk cast a circle of light on the blotter and left the rest of her studio apartment shrouded in gloom. She offered the two women seats at her small dining table.
“Can I get you something to drink? Iced tea or coffee?”
They both declined. Silence fell. Jen sat in her usual place at the table. She cleared her throat. This would be harder than she expected. “I’m not sure where to begin . . .”
“Then I’ll help you out,” Zoe said. “I have a few questions.”
Jen nodded.
“Why did Jeff never mention you to me?”
“He knew you’d expect to meet me at some point and for the past few years I . . . I haven’t wanted to meet anyone new.” Wow, that sounds really lame. They’ll both think I’m retarded—or psychotic. She hurried to elaborate. “You see, I was in a car crash and it . . . messed up my face. Pretty badly.”
This got Jen the scrutiny she’d expected. But after the first operation she already looked so much better she knew they wouldn’t understand. She got up and slid a few photographs in front of them. Then she turned on the brighter lights she only used when she cleaned.
Zoe gave her a quick glance then dropped her gaze to the photos. She gasped and turned her head away, then looked again out of the corner of her eye.
Amanda’s hand flew to her mouth and her eyes developed a sheen of moisture.
“Now you understand why I didn’t want to meet back then. There’s no way to describe how I looked, but your reactions were pretty standard. I stopped going outside. I didn’t want to scare people.”
Zoe reached over and touched Jen’s arm. “I am so sorry to have been so snippy with you. I had no idea . . .”
“Jeff has been saving every dime he can lay his hands on to pay for the operations I need to look . . . better. The photo on the bottom is my senior prom picture. The ‘before’ image, if you will. Not that Keira Knightly had to worry about competition, but I was pretty . . . then.”
Zoe lifted the photo and stared. “You were beautiful!
Jen gave a fleeting smile. “I wanted to be a dancer back then. As a matter of fact, Jeff was taking me home from dance class when we got into the accident. It wasn’t his fault, but you can’t convince him of that. Now I need this brace to walk any distance, but at least I can walk.”
“But why didn’t Jeff simply tell me those paintings were yours? They are fabulous, by the way. I would never have passed up such beautiful work.”
“Well, when he cooked up this whole idea he’d only just met you, so he had no idea how things would go.” Jen arched a brow and gave Zoe a knowing smile. “And he knew I’d never agree to see you back then, soooo . . .”
“He claimed the paintings as his own so you wouldn’t have to.”
Jen nodded. “Right.” She grasped Zoe’s hand. “Please don’t be angry with him. I know he cares for you and this whole disaster is killing him.”
“I don’t like being lied to.” Zoe compressed her lips into a firm line. “But I talked with your brother a few hours ago and we’ve made peace with our past indiscretions.” She smiled and Jen leaned over and hugged her.
“Oh thank goodness. I don’t want him to go to jail, though. He doesn’t deserve that for trying to help me.” Jen got up and shut off the bright light. The soft glow of her desk lamp was much more soothing, and less revealing. “So, what can I do to make things right?”
“Russ, I cannot begin to thank you for . . . everything.” Zoe hugged him and walked him to the office. Although Russ had repeatedly assured her that sale of his paintings was not important, she was delighted that two of his canvases had sold. She had banked a record profit from the gallery’s grand opening and was able to write a check for Russ to take with him. He had stayed in town for Amanda and Dev’s wedding yesterday.
It was an intimate affair with only the bride and grooms parents, Zoe as maid of honor and Chris Majewski as best man. Marjorie hosted a slightly larger reception at her bed and breakfast so that the crew from Dev’s radio station—those not working, anyway—and Zoe, Jeff and Russ could celebrate the couple’s union. Now Dev’s SUV idled at the curb, waiting to take both sets of parents and Russ to the airport.
“Stay in touch, Russ.”
“I will, never fear. Call me if there are any new developments.” He gave her shoulders a squeeze. “I’m happy you and Jeff worked things out between you. I wish you the best of luck here.”
“Thanks, Russ. Please stop in whenever you’re nearby. You know the door is always open.”
“Will do.” He shouldered his bag and headed for the front door. Jeff met him there and they shook hands. “She’s dynamite, my friend. You are one lucky S.O.B.” He lowered his voice as Zoe came out of the office. “Don’t let her get wind of our plan though. I don’t think she’ll approve.”
“Yeah, no worries, pal. I’ll be in touch.” Jeff clapped him on the shoulder and held the door. “Have a good flight.”
Zoe joined him and slipped her arm around his waist. She blew Russ a kiss and turned to Jeff. “What were you two whispering about up here?”
“Just the usual guy talk. Congratulating me on snagging a hot babe.” Jeff winked. “What’s on your agenda for today?” He slid both arms around her and hugged her. “I don’t suppose you have any free time for your poor, neglected boyfriend?” He dropped a kiss on her nose.
“Well, now that I’ve hired Jamie and Dan to man the gallery on Sundays, I may have a few moments to spare. What did you have in mind?”
The heat in Jeff’s eyes started an answering fire in her belly. She felt her nipples peak as Jeff tilted her face to accept a deeper kiss. “Mmm. Upstairs?”
“Oh yeah.”
Sometime later Zoe lay back with a satisfied smile. “Have I mentioned lately what a marvelous lover you are?”
“I think it’s been over twenty-four hours. I may get an under-appreciation complex.”
“Not likely, Studley. That self-satisfied smirk on your face every time you make me come says it all.”
“What can I say? Everything improves with practice . . .”
“Yeah, and you’re certainly willing to put in lots of practice time.” She ran her hand over his well-cut abs. “But I’m for the shower. We have to pick up more canvases for Jen and bring a few more of her finished works here. Her paintings are flying off the walls.”
The Memorial Day weekend started her summer off with a bang indeed. Tourists had poured into Blue Point Cove for the holiday and eager vacationers packed the sidewalks on their way to and from the marina. The gallery’s location just a few doors down from Donatelli’s restaurant and bakery brought lots of browsers in to admire her wares. If her sales kept up at this rate, she’d easily qualify for a bank loan by August. Then she would pay Fredrick Barker off and become sole owner of her gallery.
She hoped.
She had a plan to protect herself—and Jeff—from accusations of art forgery and fraud by the Sleazebag, but it made her nervous just thinking about it. Well, nothing could happen until she had the money, so she pushed her worries to the back of her mind.
For now.
Chapter 24
Jeff was in love with . . . tourists. All of them. No matter the age, the weight, the gender—he loved ‘em all. Even the brainless teenager so busy texting that she crossed the street in the middle of the block and almost made him lay is bike dow
n to avoid putting tire tracks on her pretty pink bikini.
Yep, even her.
Because for the past two months those wonderful nameless, faceless individuals had put thousands of dollars into his bank account.
As a result of their generosity, Jen would come back to Blue Point Cove today with a face that looked almost like the one she had two years ago. A bit puffy, and pink around the edges where the scars peeked out from behind her right ear. But her new haircut with the soft curls hid most of them. Her mouth was perfect, her lips soft and full without any hint of a sag at the right corner. That was how she looked two weeks ago. The last time he’d driven up to Baltimore. She looked so much better that she had a ‘coming out’ party with all of her old friends. Two of whom had already called her for dates. He might need to check those guys out.
“Jeff. Stop pacing. You’re starting to make me anxious.” Zoe rubbed his back, then smacked him smartly on his ass. “Staring out the window won’t get them here any sooner.”
“I know. I know. I can’t help it though. Wait until you see her, Zoe. She’s beautiful again. Dr. Guiness is a miracle worker.” Jeff couldn’t keep the smile from sneaking out.
“Let’s get these last three canvases hung so there won’t be anything left to do when she arrives but chat.”
“Right, you’re right. As usual.” He tugged on her long French braid, then lifted her up and swung her in a circle, depositing her back on the ground with a quick kiss. “I’ll go bring them down from the storage room.”
It was early Sunday morning and the gallery didn’t open until noon. Jeff wanted plenty of time to show Jen around the place. He wanted her to see how great her paintings looked hung with enough white space around them to make each one stand out like a rare jewel. Zoe always kept one of his sculptures at the entrance to Jen’s small exhibition area. The rest were scattered throughout the gallery, wherever Zoe felt they captured browsers attention. He’d just finished hanging the last canvas when his dad’s white van slid to the curb out front. He hustled outside and opened Jen’s door.
His By Design Page 23