by Jenna Brandt
“Good morning, Miss Wilson,” she heard Wade say as he came up to stand in front of her. She noticed that for the first time, he didn’t have his phone in his hands. It was a welcome change. Maybe she had gotten through to him the previous day. Did it mean there was hope for him yet? Was it possible that he might find a way to enjoy life rather than focus on work all the time? She hoped that was the case, because living for work wasn’t any way to live. She should know, considering she had the same bad habit.
“Good morning, Mr. McAllister,” she said with a friendly smile. “I’m glad you read my email and took my advice about your attire.”
She left out the part about how good he looked in his navy-blue t-shirt and dark denim jeans. The shirt was perfectly fit to his tall physique, causing the muscles of his arms to bulge under the cotton fabric.
“What do you have waiting for me today?” he asked, glancing around in a way that made it clear he was looking for a clue.
“You should know by now; I’m not going to tell you. It would ruin the surprise.”
“What if I’m the type that doesn’t like surprises?”
“You didn’t seem to mind yesterday,” she pointed out.
“Maybe I did, but since it was our first meeting, I didn’t want to say anything.”
“Everything I know about you makes it clear that you have no problem being direct. If you had been upset yesterday with any part of the day, you would have said so. You’re just trying to make me nervous enough to give up something about today. It won’t work. My lips are sealed.”
His eyes flickered down to her mouth, and for a moment, she could swear he was thinking about kissing her. What would it be like if she let him? If she used her lips for something other than talking when it came to Wade McAllister, would she like it? Would it make her weak in the knees?
Realizing she shouldn’t be thinking about him that way, Tara quickly shook the thoughts from her head. “We should be heading to your surprise now.”
“All right, I can see I won’t get any information from you about today. I give in; take me to it.”
This time, they went in the opposite direction of the ballroom. Tara had picked the tea room situated on the edge of the garden. Some of their foreign billionaire wives enjoyed the place for their parties, but today she had stripped it clean and converted it to an art studio. The tall, floor-to-ceiling windows allowed in plenty of natural light, which was key for creating art.
Tara opened the door and ushered Wade inside. The room was filled with several adjustable easels with comfy stools in front of them, painting supplies, and a long flat table to sketch or mix paint, as needed. There was also a sofa and two chairs in one corner to relax in when a break was wanted, as well as a table set up with refreshments. There was soft, classical music playing in the background, picked from the list that her guest preferred.
Wade moved into the room, glancing around with a confused look on his face. “Are we painting together today?”
“No, I have something much better planned than that,” she said, stepping out of the way to reveal her special surprise.
“Ian Campbell,” Wade gasped out, his eyes growing wide with shock.
Wade couldn’t believe his eyes as Ian Campbell, his favorite artist of all time, came gliding into the room. “How is this possible?” he asked in astonishment. “What are you doing here, Mr. Campbell?”
“Please, call me Ian,” the elderly artist with graying red hair said with a kind smile as he reached out his hand to Wade, who took it and shook it in return. “And to answer your question, I came here by invitation from this pretty lass,” he explained in his thick Scottish accent, as he gestured to Tara.
“I’m so glad you agreed to come, Mr. Campbell, especially on such short notice.”
“Ian, both of you should call me Ian,” he corrected a second time. “And I’m always up for helping an artist re-discover their passion. When you love painting, it’s a part of you. To cut yourself off from it, is like cutting off your very ability to breathe.”
“I still can’t believe you’re here,” Wade mumbled in dismay. “I read in The Times you don’t leave your home in Scotland for any reason, not even for your shows.”
“Well, even the news doesn’t get it right all the time,” Ian winked. “Besides, I like to keep people guessing. If there’s a reason good enough to leave, then I’m more than willing.”
Though Wade suspected the club paid the artist a pretty penny to be there, he knew Ian’s reason had to be based on more than money. Ian Campbell didn’t need a paycheck from anyone, let alone a club designed to spoil billionaires on their birthdays. He was one of the richest living artists of all time.
“I’m honored that you were willing to come here and share my birthday with me,” Wade said, unable to take his eyes off his idol.
“Are you ready to get started?” Ian asked, gesturing to the easels.
“To what? To paint? With you?” Wade stammered out, still confused by the whole situation.
“Well, yes, since your thoughtful lass over there brought me here to give you a master’s class.”
“You did?” Wade questioned, turning to face Tara. “I thought you brought him here so I could meet him. I didn’t know it was so that I could learn to paint from him.”
“Well, laddie, she told me that you already know how to paint. This will just be me showing you some of the techniques and tricks I’ve picked up over the years.”
Tara nodded. “Everything is here for the both of you. I had it set up exactly as you instructed, Mr.—Ian,” Tara corrected with a blush. “Sorry, I feel like I should still address you properly.”
“No, no, my dear, I’m not a formal man. People assume because I’m reclusive that I would be, but I stay to myself because I’m naturally shy. Crowds have always been difficult for me. I much prefer to be in a world of my own creating.”
Wade could understand that. When his baking took off and he started winning competitions for his wedding cakes, he had no idea it would lead to his TV show and a billion dollar baking empire that would shoot him to stardom. He never expected to be shoved into the limelight like he had been. By the time he realized he didn’t like it, it was too late to turn back. He had to ignore how uncomfortable it made him, and pretend for the cameras and everyone depending on him.
“I’ll just leave the two of you to enjoy your time together,” Tara said, moving towards the door.
“You aren’t staying?” Wade asked, surprising himself. Even though he could have Ian Campbell all to himself, he didn’t like the fact that it meant he would be giving up time with Tara.
“I wasn’t planning on it.”
Ian looked from Wade to Tara and back again. A knowing smile spread across his face. “Why don’t you stay and paint with us, lass? You have more than enough supplies here.”
“Would you like that, Mr. McAllister?” she asked, glancing over at Wade.
“If you are both to call me Ian, I think the two of you should be on first names as well,” Ian commented from the side.
“I’d like that—Tara,” Wade whispered. “Stay.”
She nodded as she made her way over and took a spot in front of the furthest easel. The men followed behind her, with Ian taking the spot in the middle so they could both see what he was doing.
Wade and Tara spent the next four hours painting and learning from the master artist. They took several breaks. Over coffee and Scottish treats, they discussed the inspiration behind several of Ian’s paintings, as well as how he started his career. By the end of their time together, Wade felt like he knew so much more about his idol.
“This has to be the best day of my life,” Wade exclaimed as they all stood up to admire the paintings they had worked on. “I never thought I would have a chance to talk to you, let alone see you work, or paint alongside you.”
“You’re a wonderful artist, Wade,” Ian praised, looking at his painting with admiration. “It isn’t often that I say this, bu
t you shouldn’t give up on your talent. You have an extraordinary gift.”
Wade tried to look at his painting through Ian’s eyes. Though he thought his painting of the club’s garden was adequate, he still couldn’t believe it was good enough to receive the praise Ian was giving it. Was he simply doing that because he was brought here to do so?
“Before I go, I want to give you my painting from today as my birthday gift to you,” Ian said, bending down and signing the canvas with his trademark signature.
“Thank you,” Wade said with deep appreciation. “I will display this in my home with the utmost pride.”
Ian glanced over at Tara’s canvas and added, “You know, lassie, you aren’t half-bad yourself. If your job helping billionaires doesn’t pan out, you could have a career in art, too.”
Tara let out a laugh as she flipped her canvas around to hide it. “I had fun painting with the both of you today, but I know my gifts lay elsewhere. I’m okay with that.”
As Ian stood and headed towards the door, Wade realized he didn’t want his idol to leave just yet. “Would you like to go to dinner?” Wade asked, hoping his idol might be willing to stay for a little while longer.
Ian shook his head. “I’m sorry, laddie, but I have an appointment at my home in Scotland. I need to get back and make sure I’m ready for it.” Then, glancing over at the concierge, he added, “But I’m sure Tara would be more than happy to go to dinner with you.”
Tara glanced over at Wade, her cheeks turning pink at the obvious set up. “That’s completely up to him.”
“I wouldn’t object,” Wade said, not wanting to seem too eager, though deep down he loved the idea of spending more time with her.
“Then it’s settled,” Ian said with a big grin. “You two will go to dinner, and I will head home.” He gave them both a nod before slipping out the door.
“Did you get the distinct impression that he was trying to play matchmaker?” Wade asked with curiosity, hoping that he wasn’t the only one that noticed it.
Tara shrugged. “He’s just being nice.” She stood up from her own stool and gestured to the paintings. “I will have both of them wrapped up and delivered to your home back in New York.”
“Thank you, but you only need to have Ian’s sent.”
“What, you don’t want your own painting?” Tara asked with hurt in her voice. She moved closer to his painting and touched the edge of the canvas. “Why wouldn’t you want it? It’s lovely.”
“That’s not it. I don’t need you to send it to my home because I’m giving it to you as a ‘thank you’ gift,” he said, coming up to stand next to her. “None of this would have happened today if it hadn’t been for you. I didn’t put any of this down on my questionnaire, but it’s exactly what I would have asked for if I had any idea it was possible.”
“It’s my job to interpret the questionnaire and give the guest what they want,” she said, turning to face him. “I knew what you wanted, even if you didn’t say it.”
He moved closer to her, reaching out and putting his hand on the side of her arm. “You’re really good at it, you know,” he whispered, his head moving towards her. “Figuring out exactly what I want.”
Her eyes rounded at the compliment, as she looked into his. She licked her lips, and for a moment he thought she might let him kiss her until she spun away from him, saying, “Thank you, Mr. McAllister, for the painting, but I can’t take it.”
“You can and you will,” he said firmly. “I insist, just like I insist you come to dinner with me tonight—that is, after we change out of these clothes. And I think I want to stick with you calling me Wade like Ian suggested.”
She slipped off her apron, revealing that her lavender suit was untouched by any paint. “I’m fine as I am. I’ll wait for you at the restaurant while you get ready.”
He shook his head. “I want you to wear a dress, and if you don’t have one, you can buy one at the shop on me.”
“I have dresses, plenty of them,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “You don’t have to keep giving me things, Wade. This isn’t how this relationship has to be.”
“I don’t have to—I want to,” he said, hoping she understood the difference. “But if you don’t want a dress, that’s fine. You don’t have to even wear one. You look great just as you are,” he said. “As long as you promise to come to dinner with me.”
She pressed her lips together as if thinking about it. Finally, she nodded. “I’ll see you in an hour and a half at the restaurant?”
“See you then.”
Wade made quick work of taking a shower and changing into a fresh gray suit. He put some gel into his hair, styling it the way that the women on Manhattan Magazine’s online poll voted to be his sexiest feature, then dabbed on some of his signature cologne. All of his efforts were to entice Tara into letting him get close again. He nearly kissed her earlier, and for a split second, he thought she wanted him to. If she hadn’t dodged him at the last minute, he would have. He wasn’t sure how or when, but he was determined to find an opportunity to try again tonight.
He arrived downstairs at the restaurant a half hour before Tara was set to arrive. He asked the hostess to have roses at the table along with a bottle of Tara’s favorite champagne and arranged for the string quartet to come by and play for them later. The woman gave him an odd look, but didn’t question his requests. He didn’t care if anyone figured out that he was falling for his concierge. All that mattered was that he made Tara feel special. After all she had done for him during his stay, it was the least he could do.
The hostess seated him at his reserved table, and Wade watched the door anxiously. He knew she would show up as an obligation of her job, but he was hoping she was motivated by more than just that. He hoped that she wanted to be there for herself as much as he wanted her to be there for him.
As Tara glided into the room in a gorgeous royal blue knee-length dress that hugged her body in all the right places, Wade’s heart lurched in his chest. She looked fantastic in it. He stood up from his chair as she approached, and came around to pull her seat out. “You look amazing.”
“Thank you,” she said as she took her seat. Then her eyes fell on the roses beside her seat. She asked, “What are those doing here?”
“They’re for you.”
“Why would you do that? This is your birthday celebration,” she accused. “It wasn’t necessary.”
“I know that, but I wanted to,” he said. “You deserve to have something nice done for you, too.”
She reached out and touched one of the petals. “They’re beautiful.”
“I’m glad you think so,” he said, glad that she seemed to be relaxing and accepting his gift.
The sommelier came out and presented the bottle of champagne. Once the glasses were poured, she observed, “You didn’t put champagne down on your preference sheet.”
“That’s right, I picked it for you.”
She took a sip. “I’ve only had this particular vintage a few times on special occasions. My boss gave me a bottle when I arrived here at the resort, and I shared it with several of the other workers. I’m surprised you discovered a way to find that out.”
“You’re not the only one who can figure out what somebody else wants,” he teased.
“I’m very flattered by all of this, Wade,” she said gesturing to the roses and champagne, “but I have lines I don’t cross.”
“You can’t deny there isn’t something between us,” Wade pointed out.
She pressed her lips together, her eyes dropping to the table. “I never said there wasn’t, but—”
The server arrived at their table, interrupting their conversation. They both ordered their meals. Before they could pick up where the conversation ended, the string quartet showed up and began to play. Part of Wade was glad because he hadn’t wanted to hear Tara’s objection. He knew this was a job for her, but he hoped it was more than just that. He hoped she might be willing to take a chance and see what coul
d happen between them.
The food arrived and they both ate their meals. Tara chose to talk about their time with Ian, rather than bring up anything personal, and for the moment, Wade was content to do the same. He noticed that she would occasionally look around, almost as if she were checking to see who was watching them. He realized she must be worried that her co-workers might report back what happened between them.
Once they were finished with their meal, Wade decided he needed to continue the night with Tara. “Would you be willing to go on a walk with me in the courtyard garden?”
She nodded. “If that’s what you would like.”
They made their way out of the restaurant and through the resort until they reached the back part of the property. He opened the door and guided her onto the veranda. He took her hand and slipped it into the crook of his arm. When she didn’t pull away, he started to walk down the path with her beside him.