She sighed at the warmth and sunk into his hold. She’d been much too excited to see him when he’d shown up at her apartment. After a relaxing day off, she’d been more than happy to pick up right where they’d left off.
But Simon had different ideas. Instead of taking her right to the bedroom, he’d immediately started to talk about work and some crazy party. His arm over her shoulders was the first sign she had that he considered her as more than a client since he’d walked in the door.
“Why don’t you give me Victoria’s contact info? I’ll make some calls and see what I can do. It’s not going to be cheap, and definitely not easy, but it might be doable.”
He squeezed her tighter. “Thanks, Grace. I appreciate it.”
“Yeah, you do,” she said with a smirk. “But it’s still my day off, so no more coordinating talk. I want to discuss the Mark situation.”
Simon’s body immediately filled with tension. “That,” he muttered.
“Yes,
that
,” she said. “I’ve been doing some thinking about it and decided the legal avenue is the best one. You said he couldn’t be taken down by traditional methods. Why not?”
“I told you, the police can’t do a damn thing. He’s covered his tracks too well. The guy’s a slimeball. He sets it up like he’s making an investment, but he actually steals the funds right out of the mark’s account. Except they think it’s a valid withdrawal, so they don’t report anything.”
She crinkled her nose. “In order to move money, especially the money he’s moving, there are bank approvals and signatures involved. So Mark needs a network in place to help him, right?”
“He has to have some established channel set up,” he agreed.
“And Mark can’t do that alone. For one, there are signatures involved and for any large withdrawal, the signature would have to look remotely legit. And I’ve seen Mark’s writing. Penmanship isn’t his strong suit.”
Simon stared down at her. “You think he hires someone to do the forgeries?”
“Probably. So maybe we don’t have to get Mark to mess up. All we have to do is get to one of his people.”
“And he has someone at the bank helping him too,” murmured Simon. Grace could practically see the wheels turn in his mind. “Now we just need to figure out who would be helping him…”
“I already have an idea.” Grace leaned forward and grabbed her laptop from the coffee table in front of her. “Check this out.” She pulled up a website and turned the screen to face Simon.
He frowned as he studied what was in front of him. “This is art? It’s hideous.”
“But familiar, right?”
Simon nodded. “Are these all by the same woman who did the hideous painting in Mark’s study?”
“Yep. I looked up the name of the artist. Sandy Gonzalez. Except it’s not a chick. It’s a man.”
“There goes the theory that Mark was sleeping with the artist,” he muttered.
“So what other reason would he have that hanging in his office? Front and center for everyone to see?”
“Cocky son of a bitch is practically bragging about it.”
“Pretty much.” Grace set the laptop back on the coffee table. “I was thinking we could stop by the gallery tomorrow. It’s open ’til nine. Does that work for you?”
Simon looked her over. “Are you sure you want to do that?”
Something in his tone set her on edge and she raised a brow. “It’s just an art gallery. Hardly a big deal.”
He pulled away from her and scooted a few inches back. “I don’t know how this is all going to play out. I’ve played a hundred likely outcomes in my mind, and in a lot of them, you get hurt.”
“That was the deal. You help me get the senator off my back, and I help you with Mark. I’m not going to renege on my end of the deal because Mark said some mean things to me, Simon.”
“Even so, I don’t want to put you in an unnecessarily risky position,” he said.
She tilted her head and studied him. “Is this because we had sex?”
He pushed off the couch. “What?”
She tried to tell whether he was as shocked as he seemed or whether he was a really good actor. “You gave me your consulting expertise and now that we’ve slept together, you’re saying I don’t have to pay you.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “That feels wrong to me.”
“No! This is nothing like that. It isn’t like you flat out refused. You tried to help and it got too deep. There’s no shame in recognizing it’s not worth the risk.”
He seemed to be earnest, but she still didn’t feel comfortable backing off. “You’re not giving up, are you?” Her question was answered with silence. “So you have no problem ruining your reputation and who knows what else to bring him down, but it’s too much for little old me?”
“Is it so hard to believe that I just don’t want you to get hurt?”
She stood and came within inches of him. “I want to ask you something, Simon, and please be honest. What are we doing together?”
He let out a sigh and rubbed a hand along the back of his neck. “Damn it, Grace. I don’t know. What do you want to be doing?”
She bit at her bottom lip. She didn’t know what she wanted, but it wasn’t his indecisive answer. She wanted him to clearly want her as only a lover or know for sure that he wanted her as more. But he obviously wasn’t ready, and she wasn’t the type to pine over a man who didn’t want her back.
Even if that man was a six-foot-three redhead who looked as if he walked off the pages of a magazine.
“I don’t want anything. The point is that if we’re not a couple, you can’t pull the ‘I want to protect you’ card. We’re partners in this, okay?”
He clenched his jaw. She tried to read his face, but couldn’t get anything. Finally he said, “If that’s what you want. I can pick you up here tomorrow at six.”
She nodded. “Six o’clock it is.” She held her breath as she waited for his next move. Even if they weren’t officially together, he still might kiss her. Take her into her bedroom and pick up where they’d left off at the cottage.
“Enjoy the rest of your day off.” He turned to leave.
Grace pushed her disappointment away. This was good. She didn’t need romantic complications in her life. Not with work as crazy as it was and her mini scandal only recently behind her.
“I will,” she said with a smile. “Have a nice night.”
He looked over his shoulder as he reached the door. She forced herself to keep quiet. If he decided he wanted more, it wasn’t going to be because she begged.
“Night,” he repeated as he turned the knob and left the apartment.
Grace sighed and stumbled through the living room and tiny hallway that led to the one bedroom and one bathroom in the apartment.
Princess’s tail thumped against the bed as Grace entered the room. Grace fell backwards and landed right next to the dog. The tail wagged faster. “At least you want me, right?”
The dog responded by fiercely licking Grace’s face. She grimaced at the unnecessary bath, but instead of pushing Princess away, she pulled her closer. She was just going to cuddle her dog until all improper thoughts of Simon were chased from her mind. Business partners. That would have to be enough.
It was going to be a long night.
Simon held the door open for Grace and she slid into the cab. He tried his best not to stare at the creamy expanse of exposed leg as she sat. While she stood, the dress fell a few inches above the knee, but it slid considerably higher when she climbed into the cab.
He shut the door for her and got into the other side. “How did your meeting with Victoria go?” he asked.
Grace snorted as the driver took off into the busy New York streets. “That woman’s insane. Where did you even find her?”
Simon smirked. “What do you mean, insane? She’s brilliant. She took over her father’s company when she was thirty years old and brought it back from the brink of death.”
Things clicked in place for Grace. “So that explains it.”
He gave her a blank stare. “What explains what?”
“She’s used to having her crazy plans work.”
“Oh boy,” said Simon. “Was the meeting that bad?”
“
Bad
is a strong word. She just has high expectations and expects them all to be met.”
“So do you think you can do it?” he asked.
She took a deep breath. “I’m going to say yes. The biggest obstacle was the hall, since anything decent has to be booked months in advance. But luckily for us, I was considered a pariah two weeks ago and a few of my clients canceled their events instead of being caught dead working with me. So I had it on good authority that a few places had openings in the near future.”
Simon leaned forward. “They would rather lose all their deposits than be seen with you?”
She shrugged. “What can I say? I have that effect on people.”
He shook his head, trying to imagine someone wanting so badly to be away from Grace that they’d lose money on it. Hell, he almost wished he felt that way. Even with Green & Sons getting more complex by the minute, his thoughts constantly wandered to Grace.
Mainly what she was wearing at that very moment and why the hell he didn’t stay at her place last night. She’d seemed content with the way they’d left things, which drove him crazy. Damn it, she was supposed to be the emotional one. Turning their one night together into something more. Asking for dates and presents and all of his spare time.
But of course Grace wasn’t like that. She had to be cool, calm, and collected. If he was honest with himself, he’d never expect less from her. It was the reason he was so drawn to her in the first place. Sure, her long legs and penchant for wearing skirts that constantly drew his eyes to her ass were a big part of the reason, but it was more than that. He’d truly wanted her from the second he’d realized how quickly she thought on her feet and how effortlessly she seemed to navigate the shark-filled waters of elite society.
“So we’re going forward with the Employee Appreciation Ball,” she continued. “It’s next Friday, so we have a massive ten days to prepare. Andre and I will both be working a few late nights. Dean has already agreed to help out and I’m going to call in a temp to work with us for a few weeks.”
“You’re hiring more people?” he asked.
She grinned. “Well, I’m not sure yet. Before I hire anyone, I need to give Andre a raise. He stuck with me through everything, so I want to make sure he’s appreciated. But ever since the scandal blew over, I’ve had a few clients come back. On top of that, some hotshot consultant was talking me up at the Summer Blowout, so I’ve had a few general inquiries since then.”
“Hotshot consultant, huh?” he asked with a grin.
“Oh yeah.” She smiled back at him. “I hear he’s a real ass but he gets the job done.”
~~~~~
Ten minutes later, the cab came to a halt in front of the gallery. Simon handed the driver some bills and walked around the car to open Grace’s door. As she grabbed onto his outstretched hand, she pulled herself out of the car and looked right into Simon’s dark eyes. For a brief moment, she forgot they weren’t truly together and almost found herself leaning forward for a gentle kiss.
She blinked, clearing away the haze, and turned toward the gallery. “Looks busy,” she said abruptly.
Simon looked to the large glass windows that framed the empty gallery, not mentioning what she’d almost done. “I guess we’re not the only ones who aren’t fans.” He wrapped his arm around her waist and led her inside.
“So how are we doing this? Just looking around for now or confronting him head on?” she asked.
Simon was quiet for a moment and Grace imagined all the wheels turning in his head. She supposed this was his area of expertise, but how could he know for sure? If they mentioned why they were snooping around by confronting Sandy head on, he could call Mark, but Mark already knew they were onto him, so what would it matter?
Mark thought she and Simon weren’t together, but the tabloids still thought they were, or at least they hadn’t hounded her about the senator lately, so it wouldn’t be crazy if Sandy told him that Grace and Simon were still together. Her head pounded as all the scenarios played across her mind.
“Follow my lead.” Simon led her deeper into the gallery.
She rolled her eyes. “Is that code for you don’t have a plan?”
He gave her a pointed glance. “It’s code for follow my lead.”
“Umm hmm,” she said under her breath as they moved to stand in front of the painting hung closest to the front counter. It was strikingly similar to the painting in Mark’s study: a portrait of a person from the neck up, with a bright neon background. The person in the painting was perfectly normal except for one absurdly disproportioned feature: eyes, nose, lips, hair, freckles. Each painting was different and startlingly similar.
“Is there anything wrong with an old-fashioned landscape?” muttered Grace.
“I don’t know,” said Simon as they moved on to the next painting. “I like more modern pieces.”
She raised a brow. “You’re kidding? The ones where a splash of paint is splattered on a canvas and it sells for a million dollars?”
“Maybe not that modern. But simple, geometric patterns have always appealed to me.”
She sighed. “That’s not art, Simon. That’s a screensaver.” He grinned down at her as the back door of the gallery swung open.
A man in a tightly fitted black suit with a bright green shirt underneath approached. “Welcome to the showing,” he said with a grin as he held his hands out. “Feel free to take a look around and ask any questions you have.”
Simon took a step toward the man. “You know the artist?”
The man smiled, showing off bright, white teeth. “I am the artist, sir. Sandy Gonzalez. Pleased to meet you.” Simon shook the artist’s hand. The man noticeably did not extend the same greeting to Grace.
She exchanged a subtle look of annoyance with Simon before he continued, “It’s an interesting display you have here. Rather impressive to have your own gallery, and at such a young age.”
Grace planted a smile on her face. Apparently Simon was going the flattery route.
“It is quite a feat, but I found the people of the city truly connect with my work. We live in such a vanity obsessed culture. Once they’re confronted with their own self-absorption, they’re captivated.”