His By Design (20 page)

Chapter 19

At this point, Zoe wasn’t sure she’d survive the gallery’s grand opening. The past three weeks had been unbelievably hectic and only Jeff’s love and support had kept her from flying apart.

Their big party at the Wyndham’s had gone amazingly well, earning them a nice bonus check which she had immediately spent on additional advertising. That night would be etched in her memory forever. Jeff, on his knees, declaring his love and proposing. She’d thought it another smartassed stunt at first until Amanda shook some sense into her.

So, with the evening off to a wonderful start, Zoe’s feet barely touched the floor as she circulated among the guests. She and Amanda were like two planets in eccentric orbits, meeting occasionally to compare notes and congratulate themselves on a job well done. Needless to say, when she and Jeff finally made it home that night—morning?—they had made love with an intensity that was off the charts.

While Zoe ramped up her preparations for the gallery opening, she spent a good deal of time providing her friend some much-needed emotional support. All the while thanking god she didn’t have to deal with problems like Amanda’s between herself and Jeff. The other couple’s break-up had subdued Jeff’s normal upbeat, irreverent personality. For a while Zoe worried at his change in attitude, but eventually Jeff snapped out of his moodiness and their nights in bed again became the stuff of every woman’s dreams.

Over the past few weeks she’d signed several more artisans and the gallery’s walls and display cases were stocked to overflowing. Jeff had more paintings in the upstairs storage area along with works by her other artisans. Russell Manheim’s canvases were hung at the front. Zoe was in heaven, as long as she didn’t think about Fredrick Barker. She so didn’t want him to show up for the opening—or ever, truth be told.

Good grief, her life was a virtual roller-coaster. She had at least twenty yellow sticky-notes plastered along the edges of her computer monitor. And several hundred more invisibly stuck to her brain.

Zoe glanced at her watch. Eight-thirty already? She’d been up since dawn checking things off on her to-do list. Time to shower and dress for the big day. Amanda would be here at nine to help out, the photographer from the Blue Point Cove Courier was due at nine-thirty to get some gallery shots before the crowds hit.

Please, God, let there be crowds!

Jeff would pick up pastries from Olivia’s bakery and Russell from Marjorie’s B and B. Her phone rang and she snatched it up on the way to the bathroom. Her heart still fluttered when his pic showed on the screen of her phone. “Hello, Studley. What’s up? Do you need something?”

“Only you, sweet cheeks. I’m checking to be sure your head hasn’t exploded with all the details you’re tracking today.”

“Nope. Still attached. It’s gonna start spinning on my shoulders any minute though. How’s Russ? Did you keep him out till all hours last night?”

“Nah. We called it a night by ten. He was jet-lagged and I was . . . tired, too. I’m bringing one more sculpture over this morning. Along with Olivia’s goodies, of course.”

“Well, I’m on my way into the shower, so I’ll be ready soon.” She turned on the water.

“Ah babe, now that’s not fair. Teasing me like that when I’m too far away to wash your back. If you wait a few minutes, I could hop on my bike . . .”

“No waiting today, Studley. Too much to do. See you soon, though.”

“Yeah. Bye love.”

Tourists had been rolling into town since last night and the sidewalks were beginning to fill with the sound of flip-flops and laughter. Some had already wandered in and purchased a few things, thanks to the extra air play on Dev’s radio station. Russell had arrived last night and spent the evening with Jeff, then settled into Marjorie’s bed and breakfast. When she opened the doors at ten a.m. he’d be here to give the gallery some star quality.

Andy Phelps, one of Dev’s announcers, had convinced her that she needed a website and he offered to put one together for her. Whenever she had her next free thirty seconds. The photographer from the Blue Point Cove Courier was due any minute.

She carried her mug of coffee downstairs, careful not to trip on the long handkerchief hem of her skirt. The vibrant tropical print topped by an orange tank top and sheer cardigan created a fresh splash of color and would make her easy to spot once the gallery filled with browsers.
The bat-sized butterflies were back, doing aerial acrobatics in her stomach. She put her coffee down. Any more of that and she’d be running for the restroom.

A knock on the back door snapped her attention from her to-do list. Amanda, looking cool and chic in a blue-and-white striped seersucker pantsuit. She’d volunteered to man the cash register so Zoe could mingle with the browsers and answer questions. Zoe hugged her. “Thanks for helping out today, Mandy. If all goes well today and you give me the green light, I’ll hire someone to give me some relief from now on. I didn’t want to do it before today in case it would jinx the opening.”

I’m glad to help, Zoe. I’m almost as excited about today’s event as you are. Besides it helps keep my mind off my own rollercoaster situation.” She grinned.

“With all the uproar over at the Wyndhams—”

Amanda held up her hand. “Let’s not go there now. Today is all about you and your dream come true.” She scanned the displays and nodded. “Did you always know you could make this work? You were so single-minded when we first met. Back then, I had no idea if you had the determination, and expertize, to pull this off. But you did, Zoe. Your mom would be so proud of you.” Amanda hugged her, then giggled. “Okay, enough hugs. I’m morphing into the casual professional.” She straightened her shoulders. “Is the coffee service set up? The wine chilling? The hors d’oeurves unpacked?”

“Yes, yes, and no.” Zoe checked her watch. “Jeff and Russ are in charge of the hors d’ouerves. They ought to be here soon, and all other artisans are due by nine-forty-five.” She wrung her hands and rolled her neck to release some of the tension building there. “I hope sleazebag doesn’t come today. If you see him arrive, come find me, then don’t leave me alone with him unless we’re out front here with all the people.”

Please, lord, let there be lots of people . . . and no Fredrick Barker.

“Okay, Bug, I’m off to pick up Russ. We’ll be at the g
allery until it closes tonight, so if you need me for anything, call my cell.”

“I’ll be fine, Jeff. You’re the one whose nerves are stung tighter than my five-string. Try to avoid talking to the customers, so you don’t have to outright lie about who painted ‘our’ pictures. I hate that part of this scheme.” Jen looked at her reflection in the mirror over the bathroom sink. “Although, I have to admit, I’m amazed at what Dr. Guiness has accomplished so far. After the operation next week, I’ll look almost normal.”

Jeff studied his sister’s face and smiled. She didn’t hide her right side anymore. The results of her plastic surgery had made remarkable changes in her face. Her mouth had hardly any droop on the injured side and Dr. Guiness promised them even that tiny bit would be gone once the nerve transplant completed its growth. The tissue expander under her cheek that made her look a bit lop-sided now would come out at the next operation, having done its job to produce enough fresh, beautiful skin to replace the scarred tissue.

I’ll be so damn glad when she’s healed and I can take her to meet Zoe. This side-stepping around who painted the canvases signed J. Petrosky is making me crazy. And keeping Zoe in the dark . . .
His gut twisted. He hoped she would understand his motives when he confessed.

“Bug, once you heal from this next operation, you will be lovely. Almost as beautiful as you used to be. And I’ll have to barricade the door to keep your boyfriends from overrunning the place.”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, bro. First we have to hope Zoe sells enough canvases to pay for the surgery. Otherwise . . .”

“The worst that could happen will be postponing your surgery until we sell enough to pay for it. And the way your work has been flying out of the gallery, I’m sure that won’t take long.”

“You’re taking Mr. Pennypacker’s rust-mobile today?”

“Yeah, Russ helped me load my sculpture into it last night. Good thing I decided to go with resin. With a piece this size any other material would require a fork-lift to move it.”

“I really hate it that I’m going to miss seeing Zoe’s face when you unveil it. You’ve done a wonderful job capturing her features. Even though I’ve only seen your photographs of her, the likeness is remarkable. She’ll be blown away.”

“Thanks, Bug. I hope so. This one’s not for sale. It’s my gift to her for helping us make your plastic surgery a reality.”

The piece depicted Zoe as a mermaid riding on the back of a dolphin, one arm upraised, holding a conch shell as though she was about to blow through it. Although it was not life-sized it still measured about three feet tall with exquisitely rendered details from the scales on her ‘tail’ to the tendrils of hair trailing over her breasts. He’d tried to capture the exultation and joy he saw every time she climaxed in his arms and felt he’d done a decent job of it. He could do a hundred sculptures of Zoe and still never be satisfied. He hoped he’d get the chance to try again.

“You’d better get a move on. Zoe will be anxious enough as it is without you showing up late.” She shooed him toward the door and looked out as he left, then stepped back and closed it quickly.

Russ slid into the passenger seat, after checking to make sure nothing noxious would t
ransfer to his slacks. “I’m amazed this bucket of bolts actually runs.”

“Yeah, it may look like crap but I keep what’s under the hood running as best as I can. George hasn’t much interest in it. Which is good since I’ve never seen him in any condition to drive.”

“How’s Zoe this morning? I imagine she’s . . .”

“Spinning like a top inside, though I bet we won’t see any evidence of it. She’s a master at the cool, calm and collected facade. The most you’ll see is her running her hands down her skirt to dry her palms.”

Russ eyed him with a smile. “Know all her tells, do you?”

“Pretty much.” Jeff nodded. “I just hope that ass-hat Barker doesn’t show up today. The man puts my hackles up just walking in the door.”

“Barker? Fredrick Barker is Zoe’s investor?” Russ grimaced. “I wish I’d known her before she made her deal with him. Barker has a nasty reputation among artists. He wrings every last cent of commission he can get out of the paintings he sells. He’s known for his shady practices with clients, too. Those who are knowledgeable enough he plays straight with but novice investors in art may not always get exactly what they paid for.”

“No shit? Doesn’t surprise me. I didn’t like his looks from the first time I saw the creep.” Jeff drove around to the rear of the gallery.

Russ frowned at Jeff. “Surely if Zoe worked for him she must have had some idea of his unethical business practices? How well do you really know her, buddy? I hope the gorgeous package hasn’t blinded you to what’s inside.”

Jeff hesitated, then shook his head. “She doesn’t like the guy, that’s for sure. But she’d never do anything unethical. She’s straight as an arrow and honest to a fault.” He got out and unlocked the back door to the gallery. “I’m not sure where Zoe will want to put it, since she doesn’t even know about it yet. Let’s keep the tarp over it until we get it inside.”

They unloaded the wheeled pedestal and together lifted the sculpture into place. Jeff had made the base just high enough to put the statue at eye level. They pushed the piece inside. Russ brushed at his jacket and trousers.

“You look fine, Dapper Dan.” Jeff clapped him on the shoulder. “Before we get swept up in the tumult in there, I just want to say again how much I appreciate . . . everything.”

Russ nodded. “I know you do, Jeff. I just hope this all works out well. Why don’t you let me distract Zoe while you wheel this behemoth into place. It’s a beautiful piece, guy. You should be proud of it. Put is somewhere where it can be seen in its full three-hundred-sixty-degree glory.” He went toward the front to find Zoe.

“Oh, there you are, Russ. I was expecting you to come in the front door.” Zoe smiled and took his arm. “Let me show you around. If you have any suggestions on the displays don’t hesitate to tell me. You’re so much more experienced than I that I value your opinions.”

Obligingly Russ allowed Zoe to lead him around. He stopped before the stone and copper wall sculpture that had a sheet of water cascading over the roughened surface to collect in a trough at the bottom. The sound of the falling water was almost musical and very relaxing.

“I’m glad to see you left plenty of room in front of this piece, Zoe. Large works like this one need to be appreciated from a reasonable distance. There is one thing I would add though. A sculpture several feet in front of it that would complement the backdrop and take advantage of the sound of water.”

“I see your point, Russ, but I don’t have anything at the moment that’s big enough to compliment the wall art without getting lost against it.”

The bell jingled over the front door as Dev and Amanda came in each carrying a stack of white boxes. “Jeff asked me to run over to the bakery and pick these up. He and Russ forgot all about them when they drove over.”

Zoe made introductions and Amanda disappeared into the office to set the goodies down. She quickly returned with a twinkle in her eyes and a grin on her face. “What do you think about the gallery, Russ? Haven’t Zoe and Jeff done an amazing job with the space?”

Russ nodded. “Absolutely. The layout is spacious, and the movable walls allow for changes to make room for large or small pieces. The man is amazingly talented.”

“Russ, now that you’ve pointed it out, I really wish I had something to use as an accent piece in front of this wall hanging, but I don’t have anything that’s the right size for the space.”