Jonas ran his hand over the length of my long hair that I had flat-ironed straight for the evening. “Try to relax,” he encouraged.
My eyes darted over the spectacle going on outside the window as the car crept forward. I was trying. I could feel my pulse in my ears. David pulled up the curb and one of the car doors opened. I froze. Jonas’s hand closed over mine and pulled me out of my haze and on my feet. We walked up the runway and stopped at the press line before the gallery. I nervously plastered on a smile, willing it to end quickly.
Your book Driven is already slated as a best seller just from your announcement today. Care to comment?
“I’m looking forward to the release of Driven with Arch Limited,” Jonas answered.
Who is your date tonight?
“Lily Salomé,” he moved me close in his arms to an explosion of flashes from camera lenses.
Is Crane Holdings parting ways with Finch Enterprises now that you ended your engagement with Melissa Finch?”
“Crane Holdings and Finch Enterprises have a longstanding relationship,” Jonas’s reply was vague, but the proposer didn’t attempt a follow-up question.
Is it true Melissa Finch has been rumored to be penning a book on your relationship?
“You will need to ask Melissa,” Jonas answered. "We must go in. Thank you.” Ignoring the questions that followed, he turned and guided us through the entrance. “Now it’s time for work. Members of New York’s Arts and Philanthropy will be here tonight. I want you to mention your Love Legacy program to everyone I introduce you to,” Jonas instructed.
I nodded as Jonas stopped to shake hands.
I stumbled over my words, but quickly got used to introducing the Love Legacy Art program. We stopped before a regal female in sequins with an elaborate twist in her blonde hair. “Lily,” Jonas said, “This is Penelope Carmichael, director of New York Alliance of the Arts. This is Lily Salomé, the woman I spoke with you about.”
My nerves jumped. Of course, Jonas had planned this all along. I was pleased I had some knowledge of her from the website. She was one of the major contacts in New York Arts. She had a dream list of philanthropic contacts and had her hand in most of the major fundraising events.
Her wide mouth curved upward. “You have a youth art program?”
“Yes. It’s the Love Legacy Art program. Artists participate in a weeklong art exchange with local and international future artists and raise funds to further encourage and support their artistry.”
“How many years has the program been around?” Penelope asked.
“Twenty-seven years. It was formerly Art for Art Sake and was created by my mother. My father, a viola player with the Boston Symphony, was the first to participate. It has since been renamed the Love Legacy in their memory,” I said evenly. Penelope listened and repeated pieces as if adding to memory.
“It was recently one of the recipients of Finch’s Fundraiser,” Jonas added. This news brought an arch to her brow. “The program is in need of structure, branding, marketing, and partnerships.”
“I understand you personally take on diamond-in-the-rough programs for evaluations,” I said.
“Not often, but I can be persuaded,” she said to me and grinned. She then turned to Jonas. “You knew I wouldn’t be able to pass this up, didn’t you?”
Jonas grinned at her. “Yes, I did. And you won’t regret it.”
“If Jonas Crane is sold, then who am I to doubt it?” Penelope trilled. Reaching inside her clutch, she handed me her card. “Do you have a card to give to me?” I reached into my own clutch and began to hand her one.
“Wait,” she instructed. “Give me a few more so I can hand them out too.”
“Thank you,” I smiled.
She looked the card over. “Your assistant is in Boston?”
I hesitated. Ms. Parker was working on the Legacy with me in her spare time. I had used volunteers. But truly, I couldn’t afford to hire someone part-time.
Jonas spoke before I could. “She’s hiring a new assistant. Have your assistant coordinate through mine.”
“I’ll have them use me as their contact, but you’ll need a New York assistant or you’ll be exhausted before you start,” she joked and laughed. We politely joined in. “Now, before you have me organizing an event, I’ll leave you both to enjoy the auction.”
“Thank you very much,” I said with enthusiasm.
“Thank you, Penelope. I won’t forget this,” Jonas said.
“No, thank you, Jonas. It’s a pleasure, Lily,” she said and sauntered away.
I wanted to throw my arms around Jonas, but I settled for a bright smile and a squeeze to his hand. “Wow. Did that just happen? Thank you so much, Jonas.”
“I didn’t do anything. You sold your program. So now you can’t blame me for taking over,” Jonas teased.
“You still helped. I know I’ve resisted your help in the past, but thank you,” I replied.
“We all need help. My father helped me and his father helped him. We don’t get anywhere on our own,” Jonas said.
“You’re right,” I said. He leaned over and gave me a peck on the cheek. “Good. That means you won’t fight me with hiring assistants.” He covered my mouth with his before I could protest. “It’s for selfish reasons. I want you around me. With what Penelope and I can bring to your program, I’m confident you will be able to cover it.”
I stared down at his polished shoes. “I’d love you even if you didn’t…”
“Lily, I know you,” Jonas spoke over me and kissed my lips. “Now, let’s meet some more people before we sit down for dinner.”
Jonas didn’t have to approach anyone. Everyone seemed to gravitate toward him once we walked further into the hall. He introduced me, and I stumbled at first, but found my stride in talking about my art legacy program and passing out cards. The lights eventually flashed off, followed by an announcement that dinner was being served in the main hall. It was decorated with black and white “NYAA” banners and artwork framing the center stage, with a couple of display cases in the middle.
We were met at the entryway by a hostess who escorted us to the front circle of tables. Above the stage was a large projection screen displaying quotes and art images on what it means to stand up for mental health by the charity organizations that were the recipients for the night’s event. I was so busy reading one of the quotes that I hadn’t noticed Jonas wasn’t moving us to sit down. When I realized we weren’t moving, I followed his gaze and eyed the approaching couple. It was an elderly male with oiled gray hair and a waxed mustache standing with a pretty middle-aged woman with shoulder-length, wavy hair. They were both dressed formally, the male in tuxedo and the female in a flowing black velvet gown. Something about them was familiar, and Jonas confirmed this when he said, “Arthur Finch and Rita Wallis.”
They halted at the seats across from us. We all stiffly shook each other’s hands and forced smiles to the strolling photographer before sitting down at the table.
“A friend would have warned me, Jonas. We are still friendly,” Arthur said smiling.
“I was friendly when I called you about the incident last week. A friend would have warned me, too, before I flew back to New York,” Jonas replied.
“No need to recount,” Arthur said and looked at his Rita, who excused herself. Our champagne glasses were filled, though Jonas and Arthur placed additional drink orders for us.
“I was just as surprised as you, though I often said I wanted you two to marry,” Arthur responded, glancing at me.
I busied myself with my champagne, since I wasn’t “ordered” away like I suspected Arthur had quietly done to Rita.
Jonas sipped his champagne then replied, “We both know that’s not going to happen. Did you get a copy of Melissa’s papers from my legal team?”
Arthur sipped the brandy he was given as the wait staff placed the salads down, though Arthur ordered them to bring Rita’s back when she returned. “Yes. You have her on nondisclosu
re violation. The defamation and slander would expose you, so we know you won’t use it.”
“If my hand is forced,” Jonas said, then ate his salad. I focused on the screen on the stage, but started eating my salad too.
“So we are in negotiation now?” Jonas asked after taking another bite. “I could sue her for malpractice and invasion of privacy. Her behavior at my home would call into question her mental competency. That would expose her and your family if I were to go forward.”
“We all know I’m not one for public scrutiny or tabloid fodder,” Arthur said with irritation in his tone. “Melissa’s not using her brain, forcing me to clean up her mess. She’s been given an ultimatum. She gets on the plane tomorrow morning for Spain or she’s on her own.”
“I’m sure that went over well,” Jonas replied.
“As much as expected. Trust me, though. She may love you, but not enough to stop being a Finch and lose everything,” Arthur said between bites of his salad. I felt a twinge in my chest. From the way he said Finch it was clear that meant more to him. “Now, let’s enjoy the rest of this event. No more talk of dissolving partnerships,” he added.
“Not by me,” Jonas assured. Rita returned to the table as if on cue and we ate the rest of the dinner and smiled when cameras came forward to take photos of us at the table. When we were done, Jonas turned to me. “I’m going to speak with Arthur for a bit. How about taking a look around at the paintings up for auction.”
“Now you send her away,” Arthur said lightly. He looked me over then turned to Jonas. “She’s quiet, no fuss. Perfect.” They smiled at each other and Rita laughed. Jonas didn’t correct Arthur’s assessment, but from all I’d heard, this was part of repairing their business relationship. I now understood what Jonas meant by business friends.
I plastered on a smile for Jonas. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Finch. Ms. Wallis. If you would excuse me.”
I walked away and into the gallery room labeled Artwork for the Auction, where I looked at each of the items up for bid. They were all good, but one stood out amongst the others. It was an abstract of vibrant colors, but the feeling that rose in me caused warmth in my skin. Looking at the label, I understood why. It was called, “Uninhibited Desire.” In smaller print, “Monique.”
“Like this one? It’s one of my favorites,” a male’s accented voice said, stopping next to me.
“Yes. I’m not an artist, but the feeling I get when looking at it...It’s captivating. I don’t know,” I said, glancing at him. He was wearing a dark suit as opposed to a tuxedo. It stood out from his white-blonde curls that framed his chiseled face. His full lips spread into a smile.
“It sounds like you do,” he said. “Monique, the artist, outdid herself. I’ve enjoyed it long enough. I thought someone else would enjoy it. Perhaps you?” His eyes were a unique shade of blue, so similar to the cerulean in the painting.
I shook my head. “I couldn’t afford it,” I answered frankly, then dipped my head.
“I’m not an artist either, just an accountant,” he said.
My eyes flicked over the Rolex watch on his wrist. I was now certain that I was in the wrong profession. I looked back at the painting. “You know the artist?”
“Sometimes I do,” he said. The sadness in his voice had me looking at him again, and I found his gaze was on me.
“I’m Sergio Caro. You are?” he asked.
“Lily Salomé,” I held out my hand for him to shake, but he lifted it to his lips. “Je suis enchanté de faire votre connaissance, Ms. Salomé.”
“Nice to meet you too, Mr. Caro,” I said, taking a step back when he let go of my hand.
“I’d love for it to go to someone who enjoys it,” Sergio said, gazing at me.
I felt an arm around my waist and a kiss on the side of my face. “Mr. Caro. You’ve met my Lily,” Jonas said.
“Mr. Crane,” Sergio said and looked between us. “We were admiring the painting. Nice to meet you, Lily. I wish you both a good evening.” He walked away.
I looked up at Jonas. “We were only talking about the painting.”
“You were, but not him,” Jonas said and kissed me again, this time a possessive one.
Jonas jutted his chin. “I don’t like this one. Let’s look around.” He said and placed his hand in the small of my back and guided me through the paintings again. We chose a small beach house one, but I didn’t tell him that it was by the same artist. We returned to our seats for the auction. Ours went for ten thousand, driven up by Arthur. It seemed as though he was intentionally making it a competition, though they had both agreed to donate more to the charity event.
At the end of the auction the podium was cleared and desserts were being distributed to the tables. I looked at the watch on Jonas’s wrist. It was close to midnight. We had to leave for the prison early. Before our table was served, Jonas announced to Arthur and Rita, “I must be going. Good to see you again, Rita. We’ll talk again soon, Arthur.”
“Of course. Have a good evening. The both of you,” Arthur shook Jonas’s hand and paused for a cameraman to take a photo of the two of them together.
Jonas texted David as we walked back into the gallery. “Did you know Arthur was going to be here tonight?” I asked.
“I took a chance. It was something we attended together in the past,” Jonas said.
I looked around at the glamorous crowd around us. “Is this how your life has been and will be?” I asked.
“Sometimes it will. My book will require publicity. I get invited to attend events fairly regularly,” he said.
I looked at my shoes. “Now I’m embarrassed taking you to karaoke. I don’t fit in here.”
Jonas clasped my chin. “You don’t need to focus on fitting in. You focus on spending time together with me. That’s what I did when we went for karaoke. And tonight. I thought about how much I love spending the evening with you.”
I was again undone by his charm and the tender kiss he placed on my lips.
Glancing around the room once more, my eyes connected with Sergio Caro, whose sad eyes were on me. He was standing behind a female with light brown curls slumped down in a chair. She was dressed in a simple white cotton tunic. No shoes. The artist?
A little smile appeared on his face. I turned my head and snuggled against Jonas and he led me out of the gallery.
I WAS UP HOURS before I had to be at Rikers Island for my visitation with Declan. I used part of the time to dress simply in a white button-down shirt and jeans. I spent the rest polishing the statement I planned to read during the visitation. My lack of sleep the night before had more to do with anticipation than fear, though I knew it was still there. I believed it to be residual fear of the powers he used to control me: physical, verbal, and material. I now realized they were all powers I gave to him. Not anymore.
I was ready to remove Declan and close this part of my past. I was ready to let go and live in the new life that was beginning. The one with the man I had fallen in love with and loved with all my heart. Jonas Crane.
He was laying on the bed on his side with a pillow in his arms. My heart swelled. It was like he was still holding me. Crawling onto the bed, I gently kissed over his face until his eyes opened up for me. And when they did, a flutter went through me as I took in his beauty.
“You my alarm?” Jonas asked, replacing the pillow with me. How long had he been mine?
I ran my hand over the soft hairs on his chest. “Yes, today I am.”
Pulling me close to stare into my face, he studied me. “Something on your mind?” he asked. Something was. Both the publicity we were receiving and this visit had me worried.
I licked my lips. I hated to give him news he wouldn’t like, but after yesterday with the media, I wasn’t sure about what we had planned. “I’m not sure if you should go to the prison with me today.”
“Why not? Tell me what you’re thinking,” Jonas asked.
He patiently waited, and I took a deep breath and told him. “What about w
hat happened at your book announcement yesterday? They asked questions about our relationship. If they connect you to my cases, it could become a trial by media.”
“If it comes to that, it’s beyond our control,” Jonas responded. He got up off the bed and I was temporarily distracted by his nudity before he went into the bathroom. A few moments later, the shower turned on, marking the end of the discussion. For now at least.
I straightened the bed, though I knew Lin would change the sheets, and waited for him. Jonas returned twenty minutes later and I watched him get dressed. I tried again. “I know you’re right. I’m worried your involvement will put us under scrutiny.”
“I understand your concern, but my legal team is on all the criminal filings,” Jonas responded as he tucked his shirt into his denim jeans. He came over and cupped my face. “The media will find out anyway. We’ll handle it like we’re handling everything else that happened. It’ll be okay.” He took my hand. “Now, let’s eat before Ian picks us up.” We went down for breakfast and I muddled over what Jonas had said to me. Some things were beyond our control. Even the threat of losing a job hadn’t stopped someone at Arch from leaking my stress leave.
Still, I went through the pros and cons in my head as we quietly ate our breakfast of poached eggs and fruit salads. Finally, Jonas commanded, “Come over here.”
I took a deep breath and walked over to his side. Jonas pulled me down on his lap, his hand sliding to cup me on the outside of my jeans. A tremor went through me at the contact and his claim. I had come to understand that this was his way of reminding me that I was his and he would have a say in what happened to me.
“I don’t stand on the sidelines, Lily. I need to be sure he won’t hurt you. The only way I can do that is if I’m there with you. I am who I am and I will not allow the public to dictate my life. You’re not alone. You’re mine. I will be there to care for and support you,” he tightened his grip between my thighs, making me squirm on his lap. Brushing my hair away, he sucked on my neck, marking me.
I closed my eyes and my throat closed. He was being playful, but this was Jonas. Nothing he did was without purpose. Truly, I was touched by the meaning. He claimed me and I was a part of him. Yes. I knew he was controlling with his heart. Jonas shifted me around to straddle his lap. “All in, together. No matter what,” he said.
Tiger Lily: Part Three Page 24