“If you’ll excuse me, I need to make a call.” Javier moved away from the table. There was no answer from Baylee, so he typed a quick text message.
All clear?
Lila watched him go with barely-masked concern. “What about your parents, are they well? They must be in their early seventies by now. It’s been such a long time since I’ve seen them.” She directed at EV.
“They’re doing fine. Father finally gave in and turned the foundation over to cousin George four years ago, though he still keeps his hand in when he can.”
Javier bumped into the table on his return. Lila glanced up with concern, but he composed his features into an expression of interest at the current conversation and ignored her silent question.
“Mother has slowed down, probably because he is a constant distraction, but she continues to produce one or two new pieces every year.” EV spoke to Lila, but remained acutely aware of Javier’s expression.
Lila turned to Javier, “It’s a family secret, but EV’s mother goes by her maiden name in the art world: Anna Zemaya.”
“She would be the genius behind the tapestry in your bedroom, correct?”
Lila nodded. “Her use of color is exceptional.”
“Which piece?” EV asked.
“Willow Sky.” Lila waved her fork. “I picked it up in a gallery in…”
“San Francisco.” EV finished for her. “I’ll tell you one of my biggest secrets—I’ve been working as my mother’s agent for the last fifteen years.”
Surprise lifted Lila’s brows. “I had no idea. That must have meant a fair amount of travel for you.”
“Less these past few years, but yes; I haven’t spent my life chained to a pine tree.” A hint of bitterness crept into her voice. Lila’s lips tightened as she asked Dalton about his family.
He patted EV on the knee before answering with a grin, “Older but no wiser. My dad went bungee jumping last year.” He gave a little shiver thinking about it. Of all the things passed down from his father—long earlobes, funny looking middle toe, warm brown eyes—the one thing that had skipped a generation was the inner daredevil. “With my daughter. This summer, they’re planning to go skydiving—it will be her first time and his fifth.”
“The closest I’ve ever come is parasailing in Sydney harbor. Remember that, Javi?” When he didn’t answer, Lila nudged him with her elbow.
At that moment, Javier’s text notification sounded. A quick glance at the screen settled his nerves.
Clear.
EV watched him intently without seeming to stare—it was an art she had perfected over the years when negotiating with art dealers. Whatever the message, it must have been good news, because the tension drained from him with a sigh, and he went back to being his charming self. The next hour passed in a haze of laughter, good wine, and better conversation.
* * *
“Perfect.” Chloe said out loud, even though she was alone in the suite. An assortment of covered dishes adorned the small dinette table, and a bottle of champagne chilled on an adjacent stand. Deciding to take EV’s advice and make sure Nate was in the best possible mood before admitting she had been less than honest with him, Chloe dimmed the lights and lit a few candles to set a romantic mood.
Nate was due to arrive any minute, so Chloe checked the gilded bathroom mirror one last time, making sure her hair and makeup were in place. A long, sapphire-colored skirt hugged her shapely hips, and a form-fitting sweater dipped low enough to display a white gold and sapphire pendant sparkling beneath her collarbone. Pedicured toes poked out from beneath the hem of the skirt, buffed and polished more scrupulously than usual, given that she went barefoot as much as possible back in the Pines.
Nate’s gentle knock had Chloe skipping to the door, anxious both to see his handsome face, and to get the task at hand over with as quickly as she could. Though she wouldn’t have believed it was possible, he looked even better than usual in a pair of black slacks and a white button-down shirt rolled up to his elbows. It was clear Nate had spent some time on his appearance: his usually-mussed hair had been trimmed and tamed into submission; his chiseled jawline accentuated in the absence of the scruff that normally resided there. Chloe’s jaw hung open in appreciation until Nate let out a chuckle, slung his arms around her waist, and lifted her into a kiss.
“What happened to you?” she asked, as he released her gently back to the floor.
“What’s that supposed to mean? Do I usually like some kind of hillbilly or something?” he teased, eyes crinkling at the edges as his wide grin belied the mock-serious tone of the question. “Someone left an appointment card in my room; I took the hint. Apparently I had become too shaggy for this fancy place, so I visited the barber shop they’ve got hidden in the basement dungeon. Look, I even got what they call a MANicure.” Sure enough, his nails had been cleaned and trimmed, and his palms were soft as silk where Chloe caressed them with her own fingers.
“I take it that’s your first and last foray into a metro-sexual existence?”
“You can bet your ass, it is. Your mother has a lot of nerve, I can tell you that.”
Chloe agreed, and, banishing all thoughts of her mother for at least the next couple of hours, led Nate to the table where she pulled the lids off all the plates. She had ordered an assortment of Irish dishes, including traditional Shepherd’s pie, soda bread, and beef stew made with stout beer. She couldn’t imagine Nate was missing American food; after all, what guy would complain about
