by Maddie James
What had she said to Greg that day when she accused him of wanting to be Samson? She’d said Samson had developed a huge ego. Well, now that she thought about it, the ego problem around here was Chloe’s. However, he was wrong about one thing. She hadn’t stopped kissing him because of her ego. She hadn’t stopped because she thought he wasn’t good enough.
Or had she?
****
On opening day, Chloe felt like throwing up. She was so nervous she was literally sick to her stomach.
“Dear, just do something normal. Something mundane. It’ll keep you busy ‘til it’s time.”
Midnight was right, sort of. It helped to be busy, and it was nice to put her clothes into the closet and set up her kitchen and to finally make her bed after sleeping on a bare mattress for two nights, waking up tangled in the comforter. Everything downstairs was in readiness until the food arrived, so she could concentrate on nesting. The problem was, at about two o’clock this morning she’d begun to regret the whole thing, nest and all.
Chloe considered calling Greg to apologize, but wasn’t sure what to say. She wasn’t even sure she was sorry. She didn’t want to talk again about what he had said, hear the things that were too close to true.
Because of their conversation, instead of being excited about the opening, she was dreading it. She couldn’t let that show, of course. Everyone in Legend knew how self-assured Chloe had always been. She was a McClain, after all, and McClains never second-guessed themselves. No matter how much people might have wondered or muttered behind her back about the possible craziness of an art gallery of all things on Legend’s Main Street—no matter how much they’d talked, they would never expect Chloe to wimp out. Everyone would expect her to forge ahead with her plans, even if it did seem nutty. And they would expect her to succeed.
When she could put it off no longer, late in the afternoon she showered again and dressed for the opening. She had bought the outfit a couple of years ago for a trip to New York City and had only worn it the one time. Slim slacks in bronze silk and a matching fitted top with three-quarter sleeves and sequins at the plunging neckline. She sincerely hoped she could get through the evening without falling off the strappy stiletto heels. Worst case scenario—if she fell off the heels, everything would pour out of the plunging neckline. She did her makeup to perfection and chose some vintage clip earrings with big bronze and gold “gems” interspersed with tiny rhinestones. Her hair was smooth and shiny, and she gave her reflection a less than convincing smile of reassurance before turning off the bathroom light and heading downstairs.
Chloe’s mother, Sharon, and her aunts, Dorothy and Marie, had prepared the finger food in Dorothy’s big kitchen. Her cousins Janelle, Maureen, and Anna would serve it along with Dorothy’s famous champagne punch. Midnight would be on hand to keep an eye on the gallery and let someone know if she saw a customer who looked hungry or thirsty or like they wanted to make a purchase. Likely, a few other McClains would stop in to make themselves useful. The McClain Art Gallery would definitely live up to its name tonight.
Chloe opened the back door and in swarmed Janelle, Maureen, and Anna carrying cardboard boxes and plastic containers.
“Need some help with the unloading?”
“Are you kidding? Honey, in that get-up you look way too good to be carting food from a van to the back door of somebody’s store. Leave this work to the peons.” Janelle flipped her thick dark ponytail as she turned and made another trip to the van.
Chloe knew Janelle had been teasing, but the remark hit home anyway. Who was she to have her cousins doing work for her? They weren’t even getting paid!
“You guys are working awfully hard…”
“Heck yeah, we’re working hard! We’ve got a stake in this project, Chlo. Everybody wants to see you succeed.” Anna trooped past her with one of Dorothy’s cut-glass punch bowls.
Maureen came behind her with the second punch bowl. Instead of walking by, she stopped and looked into Chloe’s eyes. “Hey, cuz. What’s wrong? Opening night jitters?”
“Sort of, I guess.”
“Wow! I never thought anything made you nervous. This is big though. You have a lot invested here in more ways than one.”
“Exactly.” Chloe swallowed.
“Oh, sweetie. You’ll be fine. The place is gorgeous.” She swept another glance around. “Chloe, people are going to love it! Before we get going in the kitchen, I think there’s something important your girl cousins need to take care of.” She set the punch bowl on the floor. “Janelle! Anna! Group hug!”
In a moment Chloe was swept into an embrace with the three cousins she had grown up with. She loved Betsy and Midnight, but these three shared a history with her that was like no other relationship. The hug lasted just a moment, but Chloe felt strengthened and energized by it.
“Soul sisters.” They all said in unison and giggled as they stepped back, holding hands in a circle. It was the way they’d begun to refer to each other back in elementary days when they’d considered doing some kind of blood brother type ceremony to show how committed they were to each other. It had been Maureen who pointed out they could skip the knife. They didn’t need to mingle their blood—it was already that way. Maureen and Janelle were sisters, but Anna and Chloe were the only girls in their respective branches of the McClain family tree. Cousins, but as close as sisters.
“I love you girls!” Chloe exclaimed.
Maureen bent down and retrieved the antique punch bowl. “Of course you do. We’re awesome. Right, ladies?” The other two agreed, laughing, and continued preparations in the makeshift kitchen.
Chloe went to the doorway and leaned on it, watching their deft hands setting out the serving pieces, putting things in the big old second-hand fridge, organizing the staging area.
“You really are awesome, and I’m so glad you’re here. Thanks for what you’ve already done, and for being with me tonight.”
Maureen winked. “Wouldn’t have missed it for the world. Who knows, one of us might meet some rich city guy and get swept off our feet, crazy in love.” She frowned and shrugged. “Could happen.”
“Hey,” Anna interrupted. “Why just one of us? Maybe all three of us could get swept.”
Chloe smiled. “Why not all four of us?”
Her cousins stopped and looked at her. Maureen shook her head. “Sorry, sister. Word on the street is that you’ve already been swept.”
“Huh?”
“Please. Don’t try to fool us. We know your soul, remember? Greg Andrews has it bad for you, and you have it for him. It’s just a matter of time before you’re walking down the aisle with that blonde Adonis. What gorgeous babies you two are going to make!”
“Maureen! We’re not even—you know—together. Babies? And Greg is a confirmed bachelor. Have you ever heard the way he talks about women?”
“Chloe. Honey. Have you ever seen the way he looks at you? The man is completely under your spell.”
Chloe shook her head. “He wants me, but that’s just a physical thing.”
“You’ll definitely stop that kind of thinking when he sees your outfit.” Anna rolled her eyes.
“This isn’t for Greg. I planned all along to wear this. I got it—”
“We know,” said Maureen. “You got it when you went to New York that time. It’s great on you, Chloe. Perfect for tonight.” She glared at Anna. “We all know you’re not running after Greg. None of us thinks that.”
“Well then. Good.”
Maureen turned to open a bottle of champagne. “There’s no running involved. The man is already caught in a trap he can’t see.”
“I didn’t trap him!”
“Oh, but you did. Unintentionally, but still. His leg is caught, and unless he’s going to gnaw it off to get loose, you’ve got him.”
“Such a pretty picture. Thanks for that,” said Anna, wrinkling her nose.
“Some men will.”
“Gnaw their leg off?” asked Janelle.
&n
bsp; “Whatever it takes to get loose. Once they realize they love a woman, if they can’t get their heads around the idea of a long-term relationship, they bail out in whatever way possible. Cut and run. You get my meaning.”
“Vividly. I’m still back at the leg-gnawing,” said Chloe.
Maureen sighed. “A confirmed bachelor will do what it takes to convince himself he’s not really in love. He’ll do what it takes to get away from the woman too. Maybe something as drastic as leaving town.”
Chloe’s face grew hot. “Greg couldn’t do that. He has a business here. He’s invested in the community. Legend needs him.”
“Hm. Legend needs him, huh? We’ll see what he does. Stay or run for his life. My money is on stay. It’s also on gorgeous blonde babies. Can I get an amen?”
Anna and Janelle each raised a hand and said “Amen,” without skipping a beat in their work.
Chloe was worn out with it. Crazy girl cousins. She left them to their silliness and wandered through the gallery looking for something to straighten or dust, but there wasn’t anything.
Midnight walked in the front door. “How are you doing?” Putting her hands on Chloe’s shoulders, she looked deep into her eyes. “Oh dear, you’re doubting yourself. Stop that! It’s going to be a wonderful opening, Chloe. We’ve got the promotion out to all the right places, people who know the right people have been talking about it for weeks. I even saw something about it in a Google alert yesterday.
“Google alert?”
“Sure. I have alerts set to send me links when something is mentioned on the internet about The Emporium and Legend. I just follow a few key words. The Legend, Tennessee alert was triggered by some art critic’s blog post. And don’t go nuts because I said ‘critic.’ His post was quite enthusiastic. Sounded like he would definitely be here.”
“Really. It’s so cool that you can get notified of stuff like that. Do you remember the critic’s name?” Chloe mostly avoided computers but liked the idea that the internet was doing her business some good already.
“Damien something. I remember thinking of The Omen when I saw the name.”
Chloe’s blood froze. “Damien Phillips?”
“Hm. Maybe. I really don’t recall.” Midnight ran a hand down her perfectly straight black hair. “You know Damien Phillips, evidently. Bad experience?”
“Pretty nasty. He basically said my work was kindergarten level.”
“Classy. When was this?”
“Years ago. One of my first reviews, and it hurt like fire.”
“Doesn’t seem to have kept you from succeeding.”
“No. Maybe it made me try harder. Man, he was mean and hateful.”
“Will you recognize him if he’s here tonight?”
“I have no idea what he looks like. Never met him, and definitely haven’t made an effort to learn more about him. Like I said, it was a long time ago. I’ve tried to forget it.” She hadn’t been able to forget though. Though she’d known it was a bad idea, Chloe had clipped the review and kept it in a box of important stuff. Most of the stuff was positive—encouraging notes from family and friends, a lot of glowing reviews, an interview by a Legend High journalism student a few years ago—but she hadn’t gotten rid of the clipping. Nor had she gotten rid of the pain and uncertainty it had caused. Everyone in Legend thought of her as confident and self-assured. Nobody was aware of this one little chink in her armor. Greg Andrews, without knowing of its existence, had found the chink and irritated her through it.
Midnight tipped her head and looked closely at Chloe. “Sorry I brought it up. I didn’t mean to make you nervous.”
Chloe shrugged. “Too late to make me nervous. A couple more surprises like that and I might spontaneously combust from the tension.” She tried a smile, but it faded on her lips.
Chapter Ten
When the guests began to arrive there was no more time to worry about Damien Phillips, Greg Andrews, or even whether or not there was enough champagne for the punch. Chloe kept busy greeting people, answering questions about her work, and encouraging everyone to enjoy the evening and the refreshments. Maureen dipped champagne punch for adults and its non-alcoholic counterpart for the few underage guests and the occasional teetotaler. Janelle and Anna moved through the crowd serving finger sandwiches and petit fours. The three of them were dressed in black pants and black shirts and managed to be beautiful and nearly invisible at the same time. Except… Maureen seemed to have made a new friend. Just to be sure some jerk wasn’t giving her cousin a rough time, Chloe walked over to the punch bowls and put her arm around Maureen’s shoulders.
“Hi, sweetie. Doing okay here?”
Maureen smiled at her, then at the guy she’d been talking to. “Doing great. Chloe, have you met Damien Phillips? He came down from Nashville for your show. I guess he’s a big fan. Right, Damien?”
Chloe felt her stomach drop. So he had shown up. She looked up into the perfectly sculpted face of Damien Phillips and dared him to lie.
He smiled easily. “Let’s say I wanted to come and see what Ms. McClain’s work had evolved into. It’s been a few years.” He extended a hand, and she reached out to shake it, hers being swallowed up in his big palm. She wondered how obvious it was that her skin had suddenly gone cold and clammy.
Maureen looked confused. “Um. You do know each other?”
Chloe shifted on her uncomfortable shoes. “Not exactly. I guess you could say we crossed paths once, a few years ago.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Ms. McClain.” Damien smiled again. Seemed rather thin to Chloe, but Maureen was smiling at him like an idiot.
“Just call me Chloe. Saying ‘Miz McClain’ around here could have half a dozen women answering you.”
“Really? How delightful!”
Gag.
“I’m Miz McClain, too. Maureen.”
“What a lovely old-fashioned name. It is a family name?”
“Um, no. My dad really liked Maureen O’Hara.”
Damien Phillips laughed, and his eyes sparkled. Chloe decided Maureen was doing okay with him, and she herself might just tick him off if she kept hovering and trying to be pleasant. Making an excuse of needing to talk to someone across the room, she trailed away, and in a few minutes linked up with Midnight and asked her to keep an eye on that situation.
“No worries. Here comes Martin. I’ll give him the task.”
“Midnight, please. I don’t want the guy scared out of the gallery. I just want to be sure he doesn’t bother Maureen too much.”
“Right. And breaking his arm is out unless absolutely necessary?” Midnight smiled.
Chloe giggled. “Only as a last resort. And it should probably be his right arm so he can’t Tweet it out to the masses right away.”
“Powerful guy, I take it.”
“He used to be. I haven’t heard anything about him in a while, but I’ve been focused elsewhere.”
“I’ll watch, Martin will watch. I imagine Maureen has the situation under control.”
“Probably. If I were him I wouldn’t want to tangle with her.”
Midnight winked. “Likely he sees that differently than you. Okay, it’s covered. Go mingle!” She gave Chloe a shove.
Chloe’s first sale was to Dorothy McClain, who was ecstatic with a tiny ornately framed painting of Cade’s Cove. “Chloe, darling, this will be fabulous right by our front door. Won’t it Charles?”
Charles smiled and agreed. “Great place you have here, Chloe. You can be proud of it.”
“I am. I guess. It was a lot of work for the guys.”
“Greg’s crew does a quality job,” said Charles.
“Our library is amazing, but that was mostly Mike,” Dorothy said. “I’m so glad Greg hired your cousin. That job had a lot to do with Mike turning his life around.”
“Got him Betsy back, thanks to our darling Dorothy the meddler.” Charles chuckled and kissed the top of his wife’s head.
“Greg is really a part of Legend now, isn’t
he?” asked Chloe as she finished wrapping the miniature.
“I guess you could say so, yes,” Charles said slowly. “Of course he doesn’t have any people here, so he’s not really tied down. Yet.” He slanted a look at Chloe. “Still footloose, I suppose.”
Dorothy looked up at him sharply. “What are you saying, Charles? Do you expect him to pull out of Legend just because Chloe dumped him?”
“Aunt Dorothy! Sh! And—I didn’t dump him. I never had him, for goodness’ sake.”
“Is that right? Hm. I don’t know. Word is you and he are an item, darling.” Dorothy reverently picked up her package as Chloe slid the check into the cash drawer.
“She’s got that right, Chloe. There’s at least one pool in town for when your engagement will be announced. If you’d like to do me a favor, think September 14.” He gave her a quick wink.
“Uncle Charles! You too?”
“Hey, I’m semi-retired. What do you want me to do with my spare time?”
“I don’t know, but not—place wagers on my future. It seems so cold!”
“Not cold at all, honey.” He put his big hand over hers on the counter and gave a slight squeeze. “Just the opposite. Everybody just wants the best for you. If that means Greg Andrews, then I’m all for it. If not, don’t give him another thought. The pool is just for fun, and you know it. Not as if you haven’t participated in them.”
The last pool Chloe had dropped money on was a baby arrival date for one of the Robbins girls. She’d only missed it by a couple of days. Charles was right, the pools were fun. Part of the money for the baby arrival pools always went to the baby’s parents.
It was as if Charles and Dorothy had opened the floodgates. After their purchase, Chloe was kept busy selling paintings and talking to people about ordering their own home and family in Little Legend style. Chloe didn’t have another name for it yet—it was one of those things she had meant to get to, but which had gotten lost in the craziness of the past month. Thank goodness for Martin’s son, Daniel McClain, who had created professional-looking brochures with photographs of some of the Little Legend buildings as well as all of Chloe’s contact information. He had also designed a website for McClain Art Gallery. Chloe had no idea how she could have pulled everything together without her wonderful family.