Saving Grace (Madison Falls) (11 page)

Scanning the bill of fare, she mentally reviewed her new To Do list as she took a sip of icy water to quell her fluttery stomach. Reality was setting in. Soon she’d be going home.

Her head still reeled from her amazing purchase that morning, but now there was much to be done. First she’d need to take the painting to an appraiser. According to the online yellow pages, there were two in Missoula—both of whom specialized in real estate appraisal, but that would have to do. She’d spent the afternoon researching auctions. Online was out. She needed to go to a reputable auction house with something of this caliber. EBay—no way!

Shipping it to the auction house would be easy enough. All she needed were the right wrapping materials and a wooden crate. Surely someone in town would be qualified to build one for her.

As for getting to Missoula…should she ask Lucy for a ride? No, too complicated. It would be tricky to explain her need for an appraiser without revealing the painting’s value. Her niggling guilt about letting Sam sell it to her for the price of a latte was bad enough. She didn’t need anybody’s judgment.

How could anyone else understand? For two years, her battle against Kirk had been like jousting using a toothpick. Now, at last, she could face her opponent properly armed. The money would allow her to build a fortress around her life in New York, surrounding herself with guard dogs and bodyguards. So what if she had to live like a reclusive rock star? At least she’d have her life back.

A quiver of fear shot through her. Was this really going to work? It was all she could do. Her only other choice was to stay hidden, and that was out of the question.

“Are you waiting for someone?”

Her heart skipped. Slowly, she lowered the menu and lifted her gaze. Devon stood next to her table in a tasteful cerulean blue suit that set off the hue of his eyes. He looked like he’d just stepped out of a French film. Museums had been built to commemorate lesser works of art than his striking form.

“Oh, hello, Devon.” She flashed a coy smile.

He cocked his head with a teasing gleam. “I have to admit I’m confused.”

Her stomach bobbed slightly as she set down her menu. “And now that makes two of us.”

“I know
I
stopped by on a whim.” He gestured toward the empty chair opposite her. “I can’t think why a beautiful woman like you would be dining alone.”

She drew her mouth to one side. “And how do you know I’m not waiting for someone?”

Raising an eyebrow, he looked at her sideways. “Optimism.”

A demure smile escaped her lips as she nodded toward the chair. “No sense in both of us dining alone.” She was grateful for the dim lighting. At least he wouldn’t see the color rush to her cheeks.

She admired the way he guided the chair back and sat, as if every fluid movement was designed to reveal a deeper subtext.

“Your first time here?” His gaze pricked her nerve endings.

She nodded, not wanting to explain her lack of a dining companion.

“In that case, may I recommend the Tartiflette?” His finger expertly found the item on her menu.

Her mouth tingled in anticipation. “Sounds delicious.”

“Or the Pieds Paquets.”

“Ooo, no thanks. I try to stay away from lamb’s feet.”

His smile illuminated the scene like a well-focused Fresnel. He raised a hand. “May I?”

She nodded as the waiter appeared like a genie out of a bottle.

Devon cleared his throat with an ease that made even that act seem appealing. “We’ll start with the Coquilles Saint-Jacques. The lady will have the Tartiflette, and I’ll enjoy the Pansette de Gerzat. Then two Salades Nicoise. Also, a bottle of Shiraz and for dessert,” his vibrant eyes met hers. “Mousse au Chocolat?”

She smiled assent. Was she really still in Montana?

The waiter took her menu and made his exit.

Devon settled back in his seat, his eyes resting easily on her. “It’s been a red letter day for you. Congratulations on winning the war of the watercolor.”

“Thank you.” She beamed. “But it’s not a watercolor, it’s an oil.”

“I know.” He smiled. “I just couldn’t resist the alliteration.”

She twisted her hands in her lap. “Is Sophia very upset?

He tipped back his head with a faint smirk. “Who knows with Sophia? She’s always got a burr under her saddle over something. She’ll get over it.”

Resting her elbow on the arm of her chair, Grace casually touched her fingers to her chin. “Are we still talking about the painting?” Her hoped-for patina of flirtation was just glossy enough for him to take a shine to if he so chose.

He took a sip of water, pausing just long enough to achieve the proper effect. “That, and more.”

Her heart took off at a sprint. It was all she could do to keep her smile from overtaking her entire face. Sure, the last thing she needed was a romance, but the promise of a mutual attraction made her spirit sing.

“You know,” he laced his fingers together under his chin. “You have the advantage. I’ve told you about me, but all I know about you is that you have an ear for casting, an eye for art, and a heart for animals.”

Her lilting spirit hit a sour note. She lifted her water glass and took a shaky sip. “There’s not much else to tell.”

“Oh, I don’t believe that.” He lowered his hands and leaned in. “Everybody has a story.”

She breathed in deeply, pretending not to notice her turn to pick up her cue. As a silence began to settle, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “So, what’s up between you and Sam?”

“That guy.” Devon chuckled with a roll of his sparkling eyes. “He’s the one who’s got a problem with me.”

Figures
. “The problem being?”

He lifted a shoulder with an indifferent tip of his head. “Jealousy, maybe. Some guys just can’t handle it when things don’t go their way.”

“Oh really?” She rested her chin on her palm. “What things?”

The waiter returned with the wine. He uncorked it and poured a bit into a glass, which Devon swirled and swilled like a pro.

“Perfect.” He nodded.

The waiter filled both glasses before stepping away. Grace fingered the stem of hers.

“Let’s make a deal.” Devon lifted his goblet. “Let’s agree to leave the past in its place.”

That sounded good to her, but surely he had nothing to hide. She lifted her glass to mirror his.

He tapped it and flashed a debonair smile. “To the present.”

“To the here and now.” She smiled back and took a sip. It was refreshing, both the wine and the company.

He swallowed with a look of contentment. “Mmmm. Perfecto. I feel like I’m sitting in a café in Palermo.”

Her spirit lifted. “Oh, I love that city.”

He raised his eyebrows and lowered his glass. “A fellow world traveler. I had a feeling. My favorite thing about Palermo is the Palazzo dei Normanni.”

She leaned her forearms on the table. “Yes. Yes, it’s beautiful there.”

“I’m a bit of an architecture buff and the Norman-Byzantine style is a favorite.”

“No wonder you love Italy then.” Her heart felt light, like a balloon about to float right out of her chest. She’d been transported out of Madison Falls and was home, in a fashionable bistro, talking with a colleague about things that mattered. “The architecture, the arts.”

“Ah, the arts.” His voice lilted. “Surely you went to the theatre there? I saw an amazing production at the Teatro Luigi Orione. Oh, but my definitive experience was at the Teatro Mass—”

“—Massimo?” A fluttering in her chest propelled her forward.

“Yes. So, you’re a fan of opera?”

She pushed the curve of her back against her chair. How much did she dare disclose? “I haven’t been entirely forthcoming.”

His eyebrow cocked. “No?”

She shook her head.

With a knowing smile, he lifted his glass and studied the swirling liquid, as if the truth might be revealed therein. “I suspected as much. Let me guess…does it have something to do with music?”

She cautioned a nod.

His amused gaze flicked to her. “Aha I was right. You are a singer.”

A confessional nod. How could she refute what his expert ear had so skillfully discerned?

“Opera?”

Relief and beguilement overcame her reticence. “Yes.”

“Professional aspirations?”

She let her smile answer for her.

“I thought so. The pet store was just a day job.”

Again she nodded. Might as well cling to as much of her ruse as she could.

“I’d offer to take you to the opera some time,” he said as he whirled his goblet. “But that would involve a trip to Seattle.”

Her stomach squeezed. She gave up a feeble smile. “Home sweet home.” She swirled the liquid in her glass.

“Ah, yes. You’re from there.” Confusion creased his brow. “Now I’m really mystified.”

Carefulness colored her words. “Why is that?”

“Seattle has a reputable music scene. What brings you here?”

Her pulse quickened. “The power of garlic.”

He chuckled. “I didn’t mean
here
, and you know it. What brings you to Madison Falls, and do not say a Greyhound.”

She lowered her chin in careful contemplation of her response. She wanted to open up to him. How much did she dare say? “Something happened to me, and I had to get away.”

He nodded slowly. “Care to elaborate?”

She studied the wall behind him, words sitting idle on her tongue.

Rotating his wine, her smiled playfully. “I mean, did you break your umbrella, or get a bad latte—”

“I found a dead body.”

His glass froze in midair. Silence fell across the table like an act curtain.

She felt compelled to continue. “Her name was Julie. I didn’t know her. I just happened to show up at her place at the wrong time.”

He set down his glass and reached for her hand. “Oh, Grace.”

She enjoyed the warmth of his touch, the softness of his manicured fingers. Her voice calmed. “It was pretty awful. I was a suspect, since I’d found her. They grilled me for so long I don’t even know what I said after a while. I was in shock, and they wore me down.”

“They arrested you?”

“No, they let me go.”

“So…” He gave her hand a squeeze before pulling his away.

“So they never found the killer.” She toyed with a silver salt cellar, pleased with the rightness of her disclosure. “It’s just bizarre to know that whoever did it is still out there.”

He blew out a breath. “Wow.”

Trembling with an unanticipated sense of relief, she forced a derisive smile. “So, top that, Director Man.”

A small trench formed in his brow. “What do you mean?”

“Well…” Anxious to take the attention off herself, she playfully drew her finger along the rim of her wine glass. “Last night you told me you came here to get a break from the pressure. Care to elaborate?”

He paused. “Do you believe in fate?” He looked at her and arched an eyebrow.

“Fate? I don’t know.” Was fate the driving force that had forced her from the life she’d worked so hard for? Maybe there was something to that.

He continued. “I’m convinced that fate is what brought me here. I’m in town on a business deal that’s about to come to fruition.”

“Business, eh?” She cupped her elbows on the table’s edge. “So you’re not just here to lend your artistic talents.”

“No, the directing projects just happened to fall into my lap. It was something much bigger that brought me out west.”

“I’m intrigued.”

With stylish stealth, the waiter placed a platter of cheesy scallops in shells at the center of their table. Inhaling their rich scent, Grace reeled her hands back in.

Devon spooned some of the appetizer onto her plate. “I don’t want to say too much yet.” His tone was tinged with anticipation. “But the best part is I’ll be able to go back to New York with no worries. I’ll be free to do whatever I want.”

She swathed her lap with crisp linen. “Sounds like a great deal.”

“‘Great’ doesn’t begin to describe it.” He served himself. “I don’t mean to say that money is everything, but it’s certainly a good percentage of the haul.

She took a satisfying bite of the delicious dish, savoring the complex flavors of the rich cream sauce for a long moment before swallowing. “So when does this deal close?”

Bemused aggravation danced across his face. “Soon, I hope. Small town people really move at their own pace. In New York, we could have sealed the deal weeks ago, but out here it’s different. I have to respect that. In the meantime, I’m taking advantage of some opportunities.”

She arched an innocent eyebrow. “At the theatre?”

He lifted his wine glass and smiled slyly. “Some of them.”

She returned his smile, pleased that he knew an opportunity when he saw one. She liked that in a man.

She brought another bite of satiny scallop to her mouth. It looked like coming to Madison Falls had been a tasty plan after all.

Chapter 16

“I’m so glad we’re doing this.”

Grace angled a sideways glance at Lucy. By ‘this’ did she mean walking downtown to get paint samples, or decorating Grace’s house against her will?

No matter. Grace had resigned herself to this little project because fighting it wasn’t worth the risk. She couldn’t afford to raise any red flags. Besides, now that she wasn’t so worried about money, she could justify giving the bungalow a makeover. It would be so much easier to rent out furnished.

“Oh, before I forget,” Lucy interrupted Grace’s meditative thoughts. “Our church is having a concert in the park in a couple of weeks. I’d love it if you could come. It’s a potluck, so there’ll be plenty of food.”

“A concert?” Suddenly Grace’s mood faltered. The thought of sitting in the audience while a bunch of amateurs played their idea of music was more than she could stand. Besides, who knew where she’d be in a couple of weeks.

“It’s just our little quartet.” Lucy lowered her eyes. “We need an excuse to perform apart from the full band at service. It’s silly, I know, but we have fun and the people seem to enjoy it. Of course, they’re always giddy from too many cupcakes by the time we play, but that’s the result of a little calculated planning on our part.”