Chapter Thirteen
BARRETT SUPPRESSEDa frown. He didn’t want to sit near Sofia, but he ended up there anyway. On the bright side, that gave him a view of Zoey across from him. The latter had come at a cost, sadly. Several times, he’d had to move his chair away from Sofia, who’d moved hers close to him, and he’d had to remove her hand from covering his again and again. Sofia couldn’t take no for an answer or didn’t want to. Barrett clenched his teeth so hard he might break a molar.
The auction had started soon enough. However, by then Sofia must’ve been extremely parched because she’d gulped down enough champagne flutes to fill a fountain.
Since he knew little about art and didn’t pretend to know, he didn’t bid and didn’t pay much attention to the paintings and sculptures being auctioned. Instead, he studied the people at his table and, most of all, Zoey.
She bid on several things though not many, didn’t win, and didn’t seem bothered. With the muted lighting caressing her, she appeared more in her element. Her cheeks pinked, and her vibrant hazel-brown eyes sparkled, which made him smile and, yes, saved his molars. People who were going to bid or had started bidding already took off their masks, as per the rules. He loved seeing her face in all its beauty, though the fact that others could also see her face now sent a shot of worry through him.
He’d enjoy the auction much more if Todd hadn’t whispered things to Zoey, things Barrett couldn’t hear. While Todd settled in with a bemused smile, Barrett was far from being bemused. Earth-to-moon kind of far. It didn’t help that when they’d danced Sofia had reiterated Todd’s long list of conquests. And told him that when Todd set his sights on someone, he didn’t give up.
Had Todd set his sights on Zoey? Barrett wouldn’t blame the man for being taken with her. Barrett was, far more than he wanted to admit. But he would blame himself if he allowed jealousy into his heart.
So if he looked at her often, if he was attuned to her movements and facial expressions, he was just doing his job. If he tensed at Todd getting too close to her for Barrett’s comfort, again Barrett was also just doing his job.
Sofia had said something else during the dance. The words echoed in his head even now—Todd doesn’t stay with anyone for long.
Barrett didn’t want Zoey to have her heart broken again. Even if it wasn’t with himself, he wanted her to be happy.
And alive.
So he zeroed in on their surroundings. A lot of people stared at their table, but that could be because the evening’s main attractions—and Barrett certainly didn’t mean himself—were here. He missed the silent, quiet beauty of the garden where he’d been alone with Zoey and that rabbit. That was just because Barrett could do his job better there, of course.
He snorted. Yeah right. No reason to lie to himself. Besides, the garden could’ve been an even more dangerous place for Zoey.
Sofia won several bids. Once she started bidding, she didn’t give up.
Hmm, most of the time, Sofia started bidding after Zoey did, and a victorious smirk marred Sofia’s beauty once she won the item. She didn’t seem to care about the art as much as she desired to win over somebody else.
Could her interest in Barrett be explained by the same motivation?
The bidding for another painting, this one by some Italian artist, started. Once again, Barrett’s gaze swept the room. Someone in this place might want Zoey out of the picture, no pun intended.
He zoomed in on Mason, Kennedy’s assistant who’d helped organize this event. Suspicions stirred Barrett. He’d asked Kennedy if Mason worked with her the day Zoey had nearly been run over. Apparently, he’d taken the afternoon off. Mason’s alibi for the time of Nora King’s murder was shaky. Barrett stiffened. Even now, Mason looked at Zoey with too much animosity.
But all that was just a suspicion. Barrett had difficulty imagining Mason going as far as killing someone, misguided loyalty to Kennedy or not. Yet Barrett would investigate further, to be thorough.
Todd bent toward Zoey again. Whatever he whispered, he leaned so close his breath ruffled her upswept hair, and Barrett resisted the urge to grind his teeth. He’d never considered himself the jealous type.
Until now.
Then he caught Sofia glancing at Todd and Zoey before she returned her attention to the auctioned oil landscape of some olive villa bathed in the sunshine. For a moment, the same victorious smirk touched her crimson lips.
Hmm.
Then the next auction item was announced. Zoey blanched, making Barrett tense and pay extra attention. He straightened in his seat.
Why did she blanch? Was it something important to her?
Soon he understood her reaction. The exquisite tapestry showed a bird with brown and emerald-green feathers soaring in the cerulean sky. Underneath it was a flower garden. There, a stone birdbath evoked thoughts of the garden they’d recently been in.
Where he’d nearly kissed her. His blood rushed faster at the memory, and longing blossomed inside him.
Where she could’ve been killed because he’d paid too little attention to their surroundings and too much attention to her. Though he winced, so much of him longed to repeat that experience. Now, as he gazed at her, that longing remained, growing like a well-watered garden.
The garden in the tapestry wasn’t the same garden they’d visited, and it couldn’t be. Plus, the tapestry depicted a bright day instead of the night here. But the similarities in the feeling it caused were undeniable. The emcee announced the piece was done by the artist named Tulip.
“I’m surprised.” Sofia pursed her lips. “Not someone famous, I guess.”
Zoey flinched while Todd’s eyebrows rose.
Well, many of the works auctioned here were by famous artists, except for those by his sister-in-law. But she was well known locally now, and her works were popular in Port Sunshine’s gallery.
Some people here might’ve thought the same as Sofia did because there was a pause. Zoey paled even more.
He was about to start the initial bidding when Kennedy did. Then Mr. Crawford joined in, then more and more people.
Barrett’s pulse kicked up. He started bidding, as well, not just because he wanted to help Zoey but also because he loved the tapestry. It would stand out in his sparsely furnished ranch home where the only decorations on the walls were rifles. There, without the artist to distract him—sadly!—the gorgeous tapestry would be the item he looked at the most.
Todd eyed Zoey, then Barrett, and then Zoey again. Then he smiled. “Twenty thousand!”
This was much higher than any previous bids on the tapestry, though still modest compared to what some other items went for.
Sofia nearly choked on her champagne. “Are you kidding me?” she hissed in his direction. “It’s not worth it.”
“It’s worth it to me,” Todd said while looking at Zoey.
Barrett loosened his tie. Was it getting a bit suffocating in the room? “Twenty-five thousand.”
Zoey’s eyes went huge. “Don’t,” she mouthed to him.
His throat started getting parched, too, but he ignored the champagne. He was at work and needed a clear mind.
Todd flashed his signature smile that decorated many screens. “Forty thousand!”
“What are you doing?” Sofia fanned herself.
Barrett could afford it. He lived a frugal life and often skipped vacations. While he gave some of his income to the ranch, Tex, his CEO brother, covered most of the ranch expenses, so Barrett had a healthy savings account. “Forty-five!”
Zoey paled more and even wobbled like she might faint.
“Are you okay?” he mouthed to her.
She nodded.
“Sixty thousand!” Todd’s smile stretched out even farther if it was possible.
Sofia blinked at him. “Don’t you know it’s fifty after forty-five? You could’ve gotten it for fifty!”
“Seventy-five!” Barrett shouted.
Now Sofia glared.
“Ninety thousand!” a man Barrett didn’t recognize yelled.
“One hundred!” Todd said, looking at Zoey.
“One twenty!” Barrett shouted, adrenaline pulsing in his veins.
Todd made a dismissive gesture. “Two hundred thousand.”
“Please don’t,” Zoey mouthed to Barrett again.
That left him torn. He wanted to show her that her work mattered to him, that she mattered to him. But was he instead appearing as if he wanted what someone else had? He’d thought that about Sofia’s bidding. Wouldn’t he be a hypocrite to do the same?
Of course, Zoey was worth more than a million now. Much more. But to him, she was... priceless. And just as unreachable as the bird in the sky on her tapestry.
“Five hundred thousand dollars. A million if I also get lunch with the artist.” The new voice spoke with authority, clearly used to others listening with deep attention.
Everyone gasped, and a gray-haired man in an impeccable suit strode forward. Gerald Fowler. People started murmuring.
Barrett tensed and shifted toward Zoey. Of all the nerve! Barrett knew the guy was among the guests, but showing up was one thing. Demanding lunch with Zoey was quite another.
“Lunch with the artist is not offered,” Kennedy said.
Murmurs grew louder.
“Why not?” Gerald spread his arms. He smiled, but it looked more like a jaguar baring his teeth before pounding on a gazelle. “I’m offering a million dollars. It’s all for charity, isn’t it?”
“How dare you?” Mr. Crawford wobbled on his cane, his gray eyes throwing daggers.
Gerald lowered his arms. “How dare I bid and make a large donation? It was my impression this is an art auction, isn’t it?”
Kennedy, as graceful as she was, was far from being gazelle-level timid. Unflinching, she held his gaze as she stepped forward and placed her hand on her uncle’s arm as if to placate him. “Yes, it is for charity, Mr. Fowler. But as I mentioned, lunch with the artist of this work is not offered.”
Gerald stalked closer like a predator circling the prey. “Well, if I’m not mistaken, the artist is here tonight. With all due respect, why do you speak for her? Why don’t we ask her?”
Barrett opened his mouth to protest and even shifted to shield Zoey. But if he said anything, it would be the same, speaking for her, not letting her make her decisions. Yet he couldn’t let her do something this dangerous.
It was too late because she already got up, her chin high, her emerald dress ashimmer. “I’m Tulip. And I’ll do it.”
“That was not a good idea.”
Zoey kept mute as her cousin ranted and spun around, arms outstretched, in the penthouse above the hotel where they’d held the gala. Kennedy had whisked Zoey, her father, and Barrett into this room after the auction, though the word room failed to describe the place that seemed to go on forever. The gala continued downstairs, this time with dances crooned over by the famous singer who’d just arrived. No doubt, after dining on that rare crab. It must’ve been important for his vocal cords. The fireworks should follow after the mini-concert.
Zoey already regretted her impulsive decision to offer herself as a prize/bait/reward or whatever that was, but she dug her impossibly high and uncomfortable heels into the thick carpet. “Don’t you think it’s up to me to decide?”
Her father’s gray eyes darkened, but he didn’t say anything and just slumped on one of the fancy chairs. He leaned his jewel-encrusted cane nearby.
Her chest tightened. “Dad, are you all right?” She didn’t mean to worry him, but she’d gone through most of her life afraid to worry her mother. She hadn’t even been walking on eggshells. She’d been in a careful dance around the eggs to ensure she never broke a shell.
His head whipped up, his eyes widening, and it dawned on her—it was the first time she’d called him “Dad.”
Her legs felt heavy, but she remained standing to stay on the same level with Kennedy and Barrett. Her own back was straight as if a rod was tied to her spinal cord, and so was Kennedy’s. Zoey took a deep breath of the faint flowery aroma, probably coming from the fresh orchid bouquet on the table.
Barrett’s hand moved toward Zoey, but then he seemed to remember something and shoved it into the pocket of his tuxedo pants. “It could be too dangerous for you.”
His concern would touch her, if keeping her safe wasn’t simply part of his job. That’s all it was. She raised her chin. “I’ve already made my decision.”
“Are you sure about this?” He raked his fingers through his hair.
No. “Yes.”
She wished she could do the same. Rake her fingers through his hair. Rake her fingers through her own hair. Her hair felt too tight, pinned in a high up-do by bejeweled pins.
She pulled the pins out, letting her hair fall on her shoulders. Then she tucked the white rose he’d nestled into her hair back behind her ear and dropped the pins on the antique-looking carved mahogany table. Finally, she kicked off her shoes and let the thick, soft carpet engulf her feet. Her exquisite emerald silk dress felt tight, as well, but of course, it had to stay. As soon as she could tonight, she’d change into comfy flannel pajamas, and tomorrow, nothing would keep her out of her loose peasant shirt.
No matter how enormous, the room felt suffocating. She sent a longing gaze to the balcony overlooking the ocean.
“I don’t want to sound rude, but I’m not...” She glanced around, then gestured to a delicate cobalt-blue vase with golden accents locked in a cabinet behind what might as well be bulletproof glass. “I don’t need to be treated like some fragile vase so easily broken it needs to be stowed safely and far away on a shelf.”
“That vase is museum quality. It’s from Italy, made in the eighteenth century.” Kennedy lifted her arms in a placating gesture when all three of them looked at her. “But I do understand.”
Zoey hoped so. Because she didn’t even understand everything. Was she trying to prove her hard-earned independence to her newfound family? Or to Barrett? Or to herself? All of the above?
She side-eyed Barrett and shifted away when she nearly leaned into him again. She did want him to see her as much more than something about to shatter in his hands.
This time, she did rake her fingers through her hair. Then she planted her bare feet wide apart, mimicking his posture. “I’ve been sheltered my entire life. At the time, I didn’t fully realize it. Now, I know better.”
A small bird landed on the balcony rail and watched them through the bulletproof glass. Many things in this room seemed bulletproof, but not her heart. Her eyes narrowed. “A golden cage decorated with diamonds is still a cage.”
Kennedy crossed her arms and braced a hip against the hand-carved table, the piece probably also made in Italy in the eighteenth century. No, rather nineteenth, considering it wasn’t behind bulletproof glass. “This is temporary, considering the circumstances.”
What about her demanded kid-glove treatment? Zoey jammed her hands on her hips and arched her neck. “Didn’t it occur to you that I could be useful in discovering who might be after me? That, in a conversation with Mr. Fowler, I might find out something new? That maybe he’s the one who shouldn’t be risking a lunch with me.”
Kennedy’s manicured fingernails with pearled polish tapped on the lacquered tabletop. “Gerald is sly and highly intelligent.”
“And I’m not?” Zoey snorted. “I mean, not highly intelligent? Sure, I may not have an MBA from a prestigious university or decades of experience in corporate business. But did any of you know Zachary Reed was going to produce Sofia’s movie? And now he’s not any longer?”
Kennedy paled. “I didn’t.”
“I should have.” Barrett grimaced.
Her father just shook his head.
Zoey nearly smirked but remembered in time not to. “I found that out while dancing with Todd. I could find out something equally useful while having lunch with Gerald. And I might make him believe I’m not a threat to his business.” Or that, no matter what happened to her, Kennedy wouldn’t change her mind. But it was better not to say that out loud, though.
Other things she could say. “I believe we all agree that, if Gerald had his hand in the accidents, he didn’t do it with his own hands. No pun intended. So I doubt he’d have someone shoot at me in a public place while I’m having a meal with him.”
Barrett’s eyes narrowed. “He could have poison added to your food or drink.”
Zoey’s mind searched for solutions. “Doesn’t one of your sisters-in-law, Marina, work in a family restaurant belonging to her mother? We can ask her to keep an eye on the kitchen, right?”
“It’s still too dangerous.” A muscle moved in his square jaw.
Irritation tightened her stomach. Why was he so stubborn? Because she’d made his job more difficult. It would be easier for him if she sat on a chair in this penthouse and didn’t move for the next month. Or a year. Or a century. Just like that vase.
“Then we need to be sure to make it less dangerous.” Her father’s voice sounded calm but firm.
“You’re okay with it?” Zoey and Kennedy said in unison, and Zoey wasn’t sure which one of them sounded more surprised.
Her feet demanded rest. She dropped into the chair near him. And yes, she wanted to be able to look him in the eyes.
“I’m not okay with it.” His expression tightened. “I lost you once, darling. The thought of losing you again terrifies me. But I wasn’t given the chance to parent you decades ago, and I’m not going to claim my lost rights now when you’re all grown up. I want you to live your life. I want you to be happy. I want you to be safe—yes, I certainly do—but I also want to see you spread your wings.” A sheen glossed his gray eyes.
Seeing his unshed tears made heat prickle her eyes. “I don’t know what to say except... thank you.”
“You don’t need to thank me.” He got up, leaning on his cane, and she leaped to her feet so he could lean on her, as well. “You and Kennedy are my world.”
Before she could stop herself, she hugged him and hid her face on his chest. Her throat clenched, and two tears slipped onto his smooth tuxedo.
They didn’t have a true father-daughter relationship yet. To reach one, they had a long road ahead to travel, mainly on her part. But the first steps were done. They’d both been victims of her mother. Changing what had been molded into Zoey’s mind all her life wasn’t easy.
“Okay, then.” Barrett sprang into action. “So the lunch will be at Bay and Basin? I know the restaurant layout well, but I’ll visit Marina and see if I can get access to the cameras.”
“I don’t want to sound like a snob, and I do love that restaurant.” A melancholic smile touched Kennedy’s lips. “After all, I proposed to my husband there, and my life changed forever. Changed for the better. But it might not be fancy enough for Gerald. I don’t believe he’s ever dined there before.”
“Why don’t you let me worry about that?” Zoey said with more confidence than she felt. Could that possibly be respect now shining in the others’ eyes? That infused more confidence in her.
Then she rested a hand atop her father’s where he gripped her arm. “Dad, Kennedy, you probably need to return to your guests.”
“You’re not coming back to the gala, are you?” Kennedy asked.
Zoey shook her head. “I want to breathe some fresh air on the balcony.”
Barrett stepped to her. “It might be—”
“Yeah, I know. Too dangerous. I won’t step on the balcony at my—at Kennedy’s—place, but one would need a helicopter to aim at me here. I’ll hide inside if I hear a helicopter. I promise.”
Kennedy’s lips pursed. But then she chuckled and hugged Zoey. “I love you, cuz. You know that, right?”
“I do,” Zoey whispered back, though she wasn’t entirely sure.
Kennedy gestured to the oil painting depicting a man in nineteenth-century clothes and boots playing with his dogs. “See that painting?”
Zoey nodded. “Yes, but I don’t recognize it. Is it some famous nineteenth-century artist?”
The corners of Kennedy’s lips lifted slightly. “No. My friend and sister-in-law Skylar painted it in this style upon my request. There’s a safe behind it. Here’s the code to open it.” Kennedy said the numbers. “I put a .38 handgun inside earlier. Do you know how to use it?”
No mirth accompanied Zoey’s chuckle. “I grew up with a paranoid mother who constantly reminded me about the dangers of the world. What do you think?”
Barrett said, pride in his voice, “Zoey is the best marksman—er, markswoman—I’ve ever seen.”
Kennedy’s expression tightened. Then she nodded, and she and Zoey’s father left, leaning on his niece. Zoey’s heart squeezed in her chest. She couldn’t imagine losing him so soon after finding him, either. So, in a way, she could get what he felt about the situation.
“Let me check it first.” Barrett walked to the balcony.
The intruder would have to be spider-sized to hide there, but then if there were any spiders on the balcony, she didn’t mind a fair warning.
“All clear.” He reentered the room.
“Not even a spider?” she verified.
“Not even a spider.” He handed her his tuxedo jacket again. “Please put it on.”
“Merci.” Zoey snuggled in the jacket that still held the warmth of his skin, the intoxicating scent of his cologne, allowing herself to imagine it was him hugging her instead.
Then she marched outside, bracing for cooler air, and he followed her. She didn’t understand this new rebellious streak. Outside, this high up, the wind was stronger, but she breathed in the fresh salty air as she stared at the velvety sky and its reflection in the ocean. The magnificent view left her breathless. She glanced at the man beside her, motionless like a cliff over the ocean. He also left her breathless.
The wind played with her hair and caressed her skin, and she wished his fingers would do the same.
“What else did Todd say?” Barrett’s voice was low.
Oh, right.
He was just on the job while she was falling in love.
“That Sofia always gets what she wants.” Maybe she didn’t need to put so much sarcasm into those words.
The bird was long gone from the railing—thankfully, without leaving any presents. Something important from Zoey’s budding relationship with Barrett felt long gone, as well.
Oh, oops.They had no relationship.
Did he think she was just some spoiled heiress he had to guard, someone who wanted to do whatever she wanted without regard to their own—and his—safety? She had sort of behaved like one right now, even if in her case she swung on a wild pendulum from obedience to rebellion.
She took one more breath of fresh, cool, salty air. “You’re right. I’d better head inside. And I can give you back your jacket.” She shrugged out of it, resenting the immediate cold, resenting giving a part of him back, and handed him the tux jacket.
“I–I hope you don’t think...” He hesitated before taking it back but finally did. After all, if he intended to head downstairs, he needed to hide his weapon. “Never mind. I’d like to take you to lunch at Bay and Basin when it’s not at its busiest and there aren’t many people.”
Her heart surged. “Are you asking me out?”
“Let’s call it a run-through for your lunch with Gerald, but in a much safer situation.”
“Right. Of course.” Her heart dropped several floors.
The next moment, a scream from below pierced the air.