Bryan nodded and turned back to his food, apparently putting the other man completely out of his mind.
“I don’t know how you could be civil to that slime,” Donovan muttered, his own appetite seemingly ruined. “I wanted to punch his smarmy face in.”
“And that would have landed all of us right in the headlines of the gossip rags again. And you in jail,” Chloe reminded her temperamental fiancé. “Bryan handled the guy exactly right, cordially sticking with the stock response we’ve all been using for the past few weeks.”
“That rodent is a friend of yours?” Grace asked Bryan in disbelief.
“Hardly. I’ve crossed paths with him a few times when his clients tried frivolous lawsuits against some of my business holdings. He’s never won, but I doubt that he’s given up. It galls him that I have money he can’t seem to get his hands on.”
“I’m with Donovan,” Grace said. “I’d be tempted to punch his teeth out.”
Bryan smiled at Chloe. “Bloodthirsty pair we’re involved with, aren’t they?”
Chloe laughed and agreed. Grace turned her frown toward Bryan. She started to remind him that he and she weren’t involved, especially not in the same
way Chloe and Donovan were, but the server appeared just then to ask if they would like dessert. The guys ordered sweets; Grace and Chloe both passed.
“I have to fit into a wedding gown in less than three weeks,” Chloe said with a smile.
“And I’ll be wearing a snug-fitting bridesmaid’s dress,” Grace agreed.
Bryan mugged for Donovan. “You don’t think this piece of cheesecake will make me look fat in my best-man tux, do you?”
“I don’t know.” Donovan twisted in his chair to look over his shoulder. “I just hope my dessert doesn’t go straight to my butt.”
Because it was so rare for Donovan to be silly, and especially so soon after he’d been glaring in anger, the others all burst into laughter. Several heads turned at nearby tables to look at them, and Grace was wistfully aware that they must look like two very happy couples. It was unlikely that anyone could tell only one of the pairings was real, or that she and Bryan would go separate directions soon.
The thought made her amusement fade, though she made an effort to hold on to her smile—for the sake of the other diners and her companions.
They separated a short while later in the parking lot outside the restaurant. Donovan and Chloe left in his car, leaving Grace to drive Bryan home in the Corvette. She had planned to drop him off at his door and drive away without going inside the house herself. She should have known better than to make any plans where Bryan was concerned.
“Come on, Grace, just for a minute,” Bryan said as they sat in the car in his driveway. “I would really like you to see the painting I told you about.”
She sighed and turned off the car engine. “All right. But only for a little while. I have some things to do this evening.”
“Of course. It’s just that we can’t discuss the painting unless you’ve seen it first.”
That was true, of course. One of the things she and Bryan had in common was a pleasure in art, and they frequently discussed the work of various artists. More often than not they even agreed on what they liked, though when their tastes differed, it was radically. She supposed there was little harm in looking at the painting he wanted her to see, as long as she was careful.
She’d been inside Bryan’s house only two or three times, and had never gone beyond the front rooms. She glanced covertly around as he led her down an art-lined hallway toward the back of the exquisitely decorated house. Each framed work was lit with cleverly placed spotlights, making her feel almost as if she were walking through a museum. Yet there wasn’t a cold or institutional feel to the place; she could rather easily picture herself decorating in just this way—if she had the money, of course.
He led her into a room that made her catch her breath in a wave of sheer envy. She thought of it as a combination library and gallery, with ceiling-high shelves of books interspersed with paintings and sculptures. A cursory glance at the book titles revealed an eclectic mix of titles, just as the artworks represented several artistic styles and disciplines. “This room is fabulous,” she breathed.
“Thanks. I spend a lot of time in here.”
She glanced at the deep leather chairs scattered comfortably around the room, each accompanied by a reading light. “I imagine you do.”
He crossed the room and motioned to a painting above an antique mahogany library table. “This is the painting I told you about.”
Done in the impressionistic style, the painting depicted the historic Old Mill in nearby North Little Rock, an architecturally significant site that had been shown in the opening scene of the movie Gone With the Wind. The grays and browns of the concrete used to make the mill blended into the blues and greens of the surrounding water and trees. A touch of color in the background hinted at the onset of fall, as if the scene were poised at the brink of changing seasons. The sun seemed to be setting; long shadows deepened the corners of the canvas. “This is wonderful. You said it was painted by a teenager?”
“The son of one of my employees. I was his first paying client.”
“But you won’t be his last,” Grace predicted, imagining the generous sum Bryan must have offered for the painting. “He’s very talented.”
“He’ll be even better when he finds his own voice. He’s still experimenting with styles. But I have no doubt he’ll be an important member of the art world in a few years.”
Grace found her attention turning from the painting to the man who owned it. Bryan was a study in contrasts. This room was a prime example—mysteries and thrillers spine-to-spine with works on philosophy and economics, master paintings and sculptures displayed alongside the work of an ambitious teenager. It reminded her of the many roles she had seen Bryan play—shrewd businessman, charming suitor, smooth operator on the social scene. She thought of his slick handling of the press, his cool rebuff of the obnoxious lawyer at the restaurant, the warmth of his relationships with his friends, and the dangerous look in his eyes when he had confronted the man who’d arranged Chloe’s kidnapping.