Too Tough To Tame

Hal flushed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean my comment to sound that way. As far as that goes, Arnie has a degree in business, sits in on all the board meetings and actually shows up at work two or three days each week. Despite his education and his experience, he shows absolutely no interest in the company. If I had to guess, I would say that you have a better grasp of the business world than he does.”

She touched his hand, which lay on the table beside his plate. “I know you’re disappointed in Arnold, Hal, but give him time. He’s still young.”

He looked at her with amused disbelief. “Kelly, he’s five years older than you.”

She grinned. “Ah, so he is.”

“I can’t tell you how disappointed I was when the two of you showed no interest in each other. Our families have always been so close. It would have been such a blessing if you had become a member of our family.”

Okay, Kelly said to herself, use a little tact here. There was no reason to tell a doting father that his only son and heir was a complete jerk. She couldn’t remember ever seeing Arnold Covington completely sober and he went through women faster than the Concorde could cross the Atlantic.

“As you pointed out, my world is considerably different from his,” she finally said. She hoped he would assume she was talking about art and business.

“All I’m trying to say is that I have no hard facts to back up my suspicions—just rumors. Chakaris’s name has come up more than once. That’s usually the only hint an owner gets before he grabs your company out from under you. He’s ruthless, you know.”

“Don’t forget that I have firsthand knowledge of his tactics, Hal,” she reminded him.

Once again Hal flushed. “I’m sorry, honey. I wasn’t thinking.” He turned his attention to his food and they lightly chatted through the rest of the meal. Once coffee was served, Hal said, “You seem to be adjusting to being alone these days. I hope that’s true and not just an image you’re determined to project. I know how close you were to your mother.”

“I know Mom is happy to be with Dad again, Hal. She was never the same after he died. Even though three years had passed, I’ll always feel that she died of a broken heart.

“Anyway, with a housekeeper and others looking after the place and caring for me, I’m far from alone.”

“You know what I mean. You must get lonely there.”

“At times, yes, of course. On the upside, I wouldn’t have been able to produce enough paintings in time for my showing if I hadn’t thrown myself into my work. Staying busy gave me a chance to distance myself from the immediate shock of losing Mother so unexpectedly…until I could better deal with her being gone.”

“So your painting helped you. I’m glad.”

“As a matter of fact, I’ve set this week aside to go through Mother’s belongings. I should have done it sooner, but it was too painful. Anyway, I need to decide what I want to keep and what to give away. Her room is pretty much the way she left it. I know the housekeeper has seen that it’s been kept clean, but the actual sorting of her belongings has been left to me. Even though it’s been almost a year, I haven’t felt I was ready to face that duty before now.”

Kelly glanced at her watch. “As much as I’ve enjoyed having lunch with you, Hal, I really need to return home and start on it. The sooner I begin, the sooner the chore will be done.”

Hal stood and pulled out her chair for her. “And I need to get back as well. I’m sorry I haven’t stayed in closer touch with you, my dear. I hope you’ll forgive me for being so wrapped up in my own affairs.”

Kelly gave him a quick hug. “There’s nothing to forgive. You’ve always been only a phone call away. I know if I ever needed you, you’d be there for me.”

Once they were on the sidewalk outside of the restaurant, Hal turned to Kelly and took her hand. “It was good to see you again, Kelly. We need to do this more often.” The doorman had signaled for a taxi and when eventually one stopped, Hal put Kelly inside and paid the cabbie as he gave him the address.

She waved at Hal before settling into the seat and thinking about their luncheon conversation. She knew Hal would probably have sought her out anyway, but she was uneasy that he was desperate enough to ask her to spy for him.

If Dominic Chakaris had his eye on Covington & Son, he would be a formidable foe. She could certainly sympathize with Hal.

Once home, Kelly checked her phone messages and found four calls waiting.

A member of one of her mother’s charity groups had called to ask Kelly to attend a meeting the next day, no doubt in hopes that Kelly would take over her mother’s position.

Another call was from Anita Sheffield, a friend from college she hadn’t spoken to in several months. She jotted down her number, sorry she hadn’t been there to take Anita’s call.

There was a hang up and then she discovered that Dominic Chakaris had left a rather abrupt message. She shivered at the sound of his voice. How strange that he should have called her right after she and Hal had been discussing him.

She played his message over. She wondered how he’d gotten her unlisted number…although a man of his power and connections probably wouldn’t have any trouble. No doubt he had a staff of spies to do his bidding.

Not that it mattered. She had more or less expected to hear something from him since she’d placed his portrait in the gallery with her other work.

Hal’s question about why she had painted the portrait was one she had repeatedly asked herself during the past several months. Dominic Chakaris had become an obsession with her—her nemesis. His actions had destroyed her family, yet she doubted that he would recognize the family name if she confronted him with it.

Instead of a fruitless confrontation with the man, she had painted him. Even she had been amazed at how quickly she’d been able to transfer her vision of him to canvas. There had been times when she felt that her hand was guided. She’d worked day and night on the project, barely eating, sleeping for only a few hours at a time before she once again found herself with brush in hand before the canvas.

She remembered the day she’d finished. She’d stood back and looked at the painting as objectively as possible and had known that it was the best work she’d done in her career. She had captured the ruthlessness, the arrogance, that she saw in the man.

However, the expression in his eyes had surprised her. She hadn’t thought of him as lonely or vulnerable and yet…there he was, staring back at her, revealing a bleakness that she had never noticed before…at least consciously. She had no idea why she’d painted him that way.

The irony of her present situation was that she had never intended to publicly display the portrait. After all, she had painted it as a catharsis of some kind, to help her get through her grieving process. When Andre, the gallery owner who was presenting an exhibit of her work, had come to her studio to discuss what paintings he wanted to display, she’d given no thought to the painting. Once he’d discovered it buried behind some half-finished canvases, Andre had insisted that she simply must include the portrait in her show. At first she’d been adamant in her refusal, but eventually he’d won the debate. She knew now she should have refused, regardless of Andre’s arguments.

She’d convinced herself that Dominic Chakaris would never hear about the portrait. And if he did? He would ignore it…which is what she thought had happened when she’d heard no response from him for several weeks after the opening of her exhibit.

Well, she’d been wrong, hadn’t she?

Unwilling to postpone the inevitable, Kelly picked up the phone and dialed the number he’d left.

Chapter Two

T he phone was answered on the first ring.

“Chakaris.”

Kelly blinked in surprise. The man answered his own phone? She shrugged and said, “This is Kelly MacLeod, returning your call.” She couldn’t help adding, “Can’t you afford to pay for someone to answer your phone?”

There was a pause. She could swear she heard a noise that sounded like a chuckle, which she found odd. He didn’t strike her as a man with much of a sense of humor.

“Ah, yes. Ms. MacLeod. Thank you for getting back with me so promptly. The number I left on your machine is my private number. I thought it would save time.”

“Save time for what? I take it you wish to discuss the painting?”

“Among other things,” he said smoothly. “Would you consider having dinner with me one evening this week?”

He must be kidding. “I don’t see why, Mr. Chakaris. If you’re interested in buying the painting, I’m sorry. It’s not for sale.”

“Now, that’s interesting,” he replied. “Although I have no interest in buying it, there are a few things I’d like to discuss with you. If dinner isn’t convenient, perhaps we could meet for lunch.”

She frowned. Why was he insisting on meeting with her? She was curious—very curious. Well, why not. She’d show him she wasn’t afraid of him. “When?”

As though there had never been a doubt that she would meet with him, he said smoothly, “Tomorrow, perhaps?”

She did a mental check for possible scheduling conflicts before she replied. “All right.”

“Good. I’ll send my car for you at twelve-thirty.”