Riches to Rags Bride

by Myrna Mackenzie

  It was what would happen if she did something stupid like falling in love with him.

  The very thought made her heart hurt. She opened her eyes. There was no way she was going to let herself fall for Lucas and become another regret for him.

  And darn it, she did want to do more, to try to help him turn this night into a success. So…what could she do? How could she make a difference? How could she take that bravado she’d accessed in that store the other day and apply it to this situation? Think, Gen, think. What did she know about art shows and patrons and her parents?

  A tiny hint of an idea came to her. A crazy idea. A scary idea.

  “Genevieve? What are you thinking? You’re frowning.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m just concentrating. I’ve hired people to man the tables, hand out literature and take donations. That’s their part. The women will flock around you, and you’ll charm them. That’s your part.”

  He raised that lazy, wicked brow of his. She told herself the gesture wasn’t sexy at all…even though it was. Very sexy. “I see.”

  She wanted to keep this light, so she patted him on the cheek.

  “Good,” she said, eliciting a killer smile from him. “Yes, I’m sure you’ll be good at that. They’ll probably be fighting for the privilege of writing the first check. As for me, I—”

  “Will charm the men?” He frowned.

  She did, too. “Not likely. Given my past associations with most of our guests tonight, I don’t have the ability to swing the favor of these people to our side, not on my own. But I finally realized that I do have one possible weapon.”

  “What is it?”

  She took a deep breath. “It might not work. It’s a long shot, but…the thing is, I’ve spent a lot of my life sitting in corners, behind flower arrangements and I’ve walked around passing out drinks at occasions like these. I’ve been the fly on the wall countless times. So while I can’t wow the guests the way my parents did, I do know their weaknesses. Every single one of them wants the last cookie on the plate, the thing that no one else can have.”

  “I take it you have the last cookie?”

  “I do.” She gestured toward the display of her parents’ work. “Let’s just hope that all those art classes I took can help me sell them on the concept that even an inferior Patchett work is better than most artists’ best work. And that if I can get them in the mood to buy art, they’ll make the leap and also contribute to a good cause. I’ve never tried to do this, you understand, but tonight…” Her voice trailed off. What was she thinking? She was totally out of her league here, wasn’t she?

  “You’re willing to do that, to chat up the very people who snubbed you, the ones who believed the lies? Gen, these are people you knew and I know they hurt you. It’s different from confronting a store clerk you’ll never see again. You don’t have to do this.”

  She knew, and the fact that he cared whether she got hurt…her heart just ached. And she had to wonder…was she approaching that fine line between women Lucas wanted and women he felt he’d wronged? Was there even a line or just a cliff face that fell away on each side?

  Either way, the glaring truth was that she and Lucas together was a bad idea. She felt a little heartsick, a little queasy, a feeling that only grew stronger when she saw the first guests filtering in. They were people she recognized and yes…people she feared. But people who could help Lucas.

  She gave a tight nod and tried to smile up at him. “Don’t worry about me. I’m doing it. Most of the people who’ll be here tonight didn’t snub me, since we never had the opportunity to meet in person once my parents were gone. It was the younger crowd, their children, who did the honors. Besides, even if these people tonight believed the lies they heard about me, a very wise man I know taught me how to hold my head up and confront the people who made me uncomfortable. And yes, it’s not quite the same as standing up to a salesperson, but…”

  He waited.

  “I could use a pep talk from my boss. How about a few kind words?” She tried out a teasing tone, wanting to keep this light.

  Apparently, he did, too. “I believe in you,” he said.

  She smiled.

  “And I like your hair like that.” He touched a soft auburn curl. She had left it loose tonight.

  “Now you’ve gone too far in trying to build up my confidence before I face the dragons. Red hair of this shade is jarring.”

  “Dragons?” He grinned. “That’s an apt way of putting things, and no I’m not lying. Your hair is amazing—the color is striking and beautiful. It garners attention. In the best way possible.” His sexy whisper felt as if it slithered right down through her body, touching her…everywhere, and just when she thought she might shiver with forbidden delight, a cough sounded near her elbow.

  Genevieve turned to see Alvin Bevin, a very wealthy man. His daughter had led the charge in ridiculing Genevieve after the shopping incident.

  It took Gen a few seconds to unfreeze her face and body.

  “Are either of you the hosts?” he asked. “I’m—”

  “Mr. Bevin,” Genevieve said, a bit too loud. “I’m so glad to see you again.”

  He looked perplexed.

  “I’m Genevieve Patchett,” she said, feeling as if she’d fallen into a nightmare. None of these people were going to know her. It was going to be a long night.

  “Oh, yes, I remember now,” he said, and it was clear that he remembered the tales of how she’d blasted her way through her fortune. Immediately, his interest seemed to wane. He obviously thought her beneath contempt for throwing away what her parents had spent years amassing.

  Lucas cleared his throat. For a moment, Genevieve thought he was going to step in and try to rescue her. He looked as if he wanted to, but he merely waited.

  “Mr. Bevin, allow me to introduce you to Lucas McDowell of McDowell Sporting Goods. He’s our host tonight.”

  It was as if she’d just told Alvin that he’d gotten a free pass into heaven. She’d seldom seen the older man smile, but he smiled broadly now. “McDowell Sporting Goods’ stores? One of my favorite places. Just…could I ask you a question? It’s about drivers and how to correct my golf swing.”

  Uh-oh, this could go so wrong, but…interrupting a man who wanted to discuss his golf swing, something that clearly was of great importance to him? Not a good idea.

  I’m plunging in, anyway, she thought. “Mr. Bevin, I’m so sorry to interrupt at such a critical moment, but I promised Lucas I’d show him my parents’ secret work and we were just about to go look at it. Would you like to come along? The party is so young that I don’t think anyone else has had a chance to go over there yet.”

  “Secret work? Why…yes.”

  She felt Lucas smile, actually felt it even though she wasn’t looking at him. And then, when they all headed toward the display, she could swear that an unseen hand touched her hair.

  Fire shot through her. Either her imagination was running way too hot where Lucas was concerned, or he had wanted to offer her some encouragement, a high five by hair. At any rate, her confidence level rose. Alvin Bevin was hers. She wasn’t letting him go until he agreed to be a sponsor for Angie’s House. She knew just the piece that he would be interested in seeing, too.

  But taking him directly to the treasure wouldn’t do. She had to show him all the things he wouldn’t want first, build up to the prize that would, hopefully, get him to make the leap to being a sponsor.

  “Here are some of my father’s paintings. Still lifes, mostly,” she said.

  Alvin grunted, looked and shook his head.

  She moved on to the next display area.

  “Interesting piece,” Alvin said.

  Genevieve did a double take. He was staring at a stack of papers, plans her parents had made for future projects. The only actual anything that could be called a piece was a paperweight, but…

  “My parents didn’t make that,” she said. “It’s just there to keep the other things from blowing aroun
d when people walk past.” Why had she used her own piece for that purpose?

  Maybe because she didn’t actually own another paperweight?

  Alvin quickly lost interest and moved on. Lucas, on the other hand, eyed the little blown-glass, yellow-and-crystal castle carefully. He picked it up. “It’s not mass produced.”

  She tried not to get flustered. Blushing wouldn’t convince Alvin to buy anything. “No, it’s by a local artist. One who hasn’t done anything else for many years.”

  Lucas looked up from where he was just putting the paperweight down. He raised one sexy eyebrow. “That’s a very…convenient statement,” he said.

  “Convenient? I’d say not,” Alvin said. “I thought it was a Patchett original. I was just about to offer her a lot of money for it, more fool I. Let’s just get right to what you meant to show me, all right?” And because he was getting grumpy, she showed him her parents’ preliminary drawings of the very piece he had in his house.

  “They’re one of a kind,” she said.

  “I see,” Alvin said with a satisfied smile. “This will make a nice complete display along with the sculpture in question. Yes. Yes, I’ll take the drawings and have them framed and displayed,” Alvin told her. “I’ll write the check out right now.”

  “That’s very gracious of you. But if you noticed, the invitation mentioned that our purpose tonight is to find sponsors for Angie’s House. My parents would have loved to have been donors. So, if you’re buying their work, is it safe to assume you’re donating to the Angie’s House Fund, too?” she asked with as earnest and commanding a smile as she could manage. Alvin looked less than sure about the donations, but she was still holding his drawings. “We’re going to incorporate one of my parents’ favorite paintings in the living room at Angie’s House just as they would have wanted.”

  Lucas looked at her, his expression unreadable. Okay, she was donating her own personal copy of her parents’ painting, she’d just decided. It would stir up interest in the open house that would follow. Besides, it was hers to give.

  “You can’t stop me donating my own property,” she said.

  For a minute Lucas looked taken aback. He probably thought she was being foolish, donating something worth so much money when she was living hand-to-mouth.

  Then his eyes grew dark and…very sexy. He gave her a secretive smile. “That’s a pretty sassy, confident statement, you know.”

  Yes, it was, wasn’t it? Not like her at all, was it? Or not like her before Lucas started trusting her to do things she’d never done and demonstrating that she didn’t have to back down in the face of adversity.

  She lifted one shoulder in a seemingly casual shrug. “I have a…a very good confidence coach.” And Lucas, her unintentional coach, let her make mistakes without criticism. He trusted her in a way no one ever had. He made her feel…powerful.

  “Confidence coach?” Alvin said. “I never heard of anything so ridiculous, but you want to spend your money on coaches, I guess that’s your business. I’m just glad you showed up with my sketches.”

  Alvin committed to a tidy sum; he walked away with a big smile, and Lucas and Genevieve exchanged a brief, private glance. “That was impressive,” he said. She supposed he meant the amount Alvin had given, but she didn’t have time to ask because just then another group of people entered the gallery.

  They were led by a tall brunette.

  “I didn’t invite Rita,” she said, her heart sinking. Rita might make a scene. Or wrap her arms around Lucas right here.

  “I didn’t invite her, either,” Lucas added. “But I’m not totally surprised that she’s here. Rita knows the art scene in great detail. She knows what’s happening, she probably even saw the invitation, and there’s no way she’s going to miss out on an unusual showing like this one is. Furthermore, she knows we can’t make a scene and ask her to leave without harming our cause. She’s going to want to see all your parents’ work.”

  “I just hope she doesn’t out us,” Genevieve said.

  “There’s a good chance she will if she doesn’t get what she came for.”

  And Lucas would know. Judging from that first day at his office, he obviously knew Rita very well. Genevieve had a bad feeling that what Rita had come for was him.

  Lucas watched as Rita roved the outer reaches of the gathering. She made eye contact with him several times, but he didn’t appear to be her prey. Her attention seldom left Genevieve, and Rita watched as Gen interacted with the patrons.

  For her part, Genevieve was nervous. No question of that. The fact that she refused to look at either him or Rita was proof of just how tense she was. On the other hand, her interactions with the other guests could not be faulted. She smiled brightly, even though once or twice he was close enough to hear someone mention her parents and the words shopping addiction. Once he even heard the word cocaine.

  That was the only time she lost her smile. Lucas wanted to punch the man who had said it in his big fat nose. He even started to take a step closer to them. Then Genevieve looked up at him. Just that. She just looked, stark tension in her pretty green eyes, the tiniest shake of those russet curls, and he knew that she wouldn’t thank him for his interference.

  For a minute those take-care-of-business, make-things-work protective instincts he’d honed for so long warred with the fact that he knew she wanted to handle this herself. She needed the confidence that taking care of things on her own would give her, but…hell, what the jerk had accused her of…

  A small growl escaped him.

  “You always were sexier than anything when you were being all protective.” Rita’s husky voice sounded at his side. “Go ahead. Do it. Looks like she needs some help.”

  He didn’t even glance down at her. “She doesn’t. She’s stronger than you think.” He remembered when she had dared him to tell her she couldn’t donate her painting. “What are you here for, anyway, Rita? What’s your goal?”

  She laughed. “Hey, I’m just doing my job. Making sure that I know what’s out there, what people are buying. Your little friend seems to be raking in some cash tonight. Or…no, she works for you, doesn’t she? The little rich girl with such a taste for expensive things that she lost all her money. Well, looks like she’s making some of that back tonight. Inferior product, though.”

  He glanced down at her. “It is, isn’t it? But she’s selling it. Lots of it. And making them fork over money for the charity, too. So, what does that tell you?”

  Rita grimaced. “That I’d better watch my back? If she ever decided to take up agenting, she might be able to sell her client’s work even if it wasn’t as good as that of my client’s. You’ve just got to respect that, don’t you?”

  “I do respect that. And yes, I thought you might, too. You’re not as harsh as you try to make yourself out to be.”

  Rita shrugged. “Sometimes I am. Sometimes a girl just needs to be a little angry, have a little pout. I knew all along that you weren’t the type who played for keeps and for a brief time I forgot that. So, don’t worry, Lucas. I’m not here for you. I’m just here to work. I think I’ll go see if your assistant can talk me into buying anything.”

  “You don’t buy. You sell.”

  “But I like art,” Rita said, giving him a fake innocent look.

  He clenched his hands into fists, wanting to tell her to leave Genevieve alone. His urge to control the situation and to protect Gen warred with the knowledge that stepping in to protect her would harm her. She was just beginning to feel her power. Having a man take it from her by acting as if he knew more than she did…? Not happening, even if he actually did know Rita better than Genevieve did.

  He glared daggers at Rita, but he said nothing even though he needed to get back to chatting people up for the cause.

  “You’re looking very…involved with your project manager, Lucas. I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s going to notice that and start wondering what’s going on between you two if you don’t tone things down a bit.�
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  Were other people wondering what was going on? He didn’t want people to think of Gen in terms of her relationship with him. She deserved better and she deserved her night in the spotlight. Solo. “It’s not like that with Genevieve,” he said.

  “What is it like?”

  It was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. “My relationship with Genevieve revolves around Angie’s House and it’s going to end very soon.”

  And the fact that his mind went dark at the thought of that impending farewell?

  He’d just have to survive it. Because he had to. He was the worst kind of man for a woman like Genevieve, who needed to be free of overbearing people. She was just beginning to find herself, to unleash her spirit. She wanted her freedom, not him.

  “So, how are you doing with the vultures?” Rita asked.

  Startled at the sudden sound of the woman’s voice behind her, Genevieve nearly dropped the clay figure she was holding. Carefully, she set it down next to some sketches. Up until a minute ago, she’d been busy with all the patrons who wanted a piece of never-before-released Patchett art. But she’d been totally aware of the striking beauty talking to Lucas. Right up until the minute Rita had left his side. Not that it was any of her business whether Rita and Lucas were together. Not her business at all. Even if a nice-size sliver of jealousy had slid through her when she realized how gorgeous they looked together.

  “Vultures?” she asked as lightly as she could manage. “Is that what you call them?” Why was Rita talking to her?

  Rita laughed. “Actually, I call them the people who pay my bills and my client’s bills, but in this case, there was a slight resemblance. I’m not talking about the way they attacked your parents’ stuff, either. Still, you seem to have withstood all the rude comments they were making.”

  Genevieve lifted one shoulder. “I’m still standing. But I’m not sure what you’re here for. You don’t want to buy my parents’ work, do you?” She gestured to one of the sketches, one her mother had hated.