Come Fly With Me (18 page)

She
walked
over
to
the
mirror
hanging
in
the
entryway,
“I
was
getting
tired
of
those
heavy
bangs—I
thought
a
few
wisps
worked
better
with
these
waves
that
I
spent
way
too
much
time
on.”

“But
the
result
is
very
fetching;
any
particular
reason
why
you
spent
so
much
time
in
front
of
the
mirror?”

“No.”

He
smirked.

Allison
sighed,
“There
will
be
no
smirking
this
evening.”

“You
don’t
smirk
enough—that’s
your
problem.”

“Kenyon!”

“Of
course,
I
forgot
I
was
talking
to
‘Samantha
Steele,’
talented,
young
artist
and
man
deflector.
You
should
get
some
big,
steel
cuffs
to
wear
on
your
wrists.”
He
crossed
his
arms
in
front
of
his
face
in
a
classic
superhero
stance.
“Why
do
you
paint
under
a
pseudonym,
anyway?
Why
can’t
the
world
know
how
talented
Allison
Ross
is?”

“Ken,
only
four
people
know
those
are
my
paintings.
You
know
how
personal
they
are
to
me
and
how
much
I'm
not
ready
to
share
that
part
of
myself
with
anyone
else."

"And
that's
why
it's
wonderful
that
you're
allowing
one
of
them
to
be
bid
on
tonight
for
your
grandfather's
charity."

She
smiled
brightly.

"Before
we
leave,
come
here
and
let
me
give
you
a
big,
supportive
hug.”

“You
just
want
to
cop
a
feel,”
Allison
arched
her
eyebrow.

He
let
out
a
whoop
of
laughter,
“Someday,
Allison,
some
guy
is
going
to
come
along
that
you
are
not
going
to
be
able
to
resist.”
He
went
to
get
her
wrap,
“And
I
hope
you’ll
be
smart
enough
to
leave
your
steel
cuffs
behind.”

She
reached
up
to
kiss
his
cheek.
“Come
on,
you
big,
old
hunk
of
man,
let’s
go
and
see
how
much
money
we
can
raise
for
the
Simon
Ross
Charitable
Trust.”

*****

Allison
and
Kenyon
took
the
escalator
up
to
the
Trianon
Ballroom
on
the
third
floor
of
the
New
York
Hilton.
The
room
seemed
comfortably
full
as
the
well-heeled
guests
mingled
and
ate
stuffed
mushrooms
and
sushi
from
the
passing
wait
staff.

Candace
Harmon
came
up
to
greet
Allison.
“This
joint
auction
is
such
a
brilliant
solution
to
the
standard
charity
dinner.
Whose
idea
was
this?”

“A
few
of
us
came
up
with
it
while
we
were
sitting
at
yet
another
obligatory
function,"
Allison
responded.

“It’s
a
splendid
idea."
She
reached
for
Allison's
hand
as
she
clucked,
"And
how
is
your
mother
doing?
It
was
such
a
shock
to
all
of
us.”

“She’s
holding
up,
but
she
won’t
be
joining
us
tonight,”
Allison
replied.

“Of
course—it’s
too
soon.
Please
give
her
my
best.”
Candace
walked
off
as
the
lights
dimmed
to
signal
the
start
of
the
auction.

"Thank
goodness
they
dimmed
the
lights,
if
one
more
person
comes
over
to
ask
about
my
mother
I'll
pull
my
hair
out."
She
tugged
on
Kenyon’s
arm,
“Come
on,
let's
sit
in
the
back,
in
the
last
row.
I
want
to
be
able
to
see
the
whole
scope
of
the
room.”

They
slipped
into
their
seats
and
turned
their
attention
toward
the
stage
where
the
bidding
had
begun.
“I’ll
hold
this
one
for
Jeremy,”
she
gestured
to
the
chair
on
her
right.
“He
just
texted
me
that
he’s
on
his
way.”

The
bidding
got
off
to
a
good
start
with
a
vintage
Patek
Philippe
going
for
twenty-five
thousand
dollars.
After
that
went
off
the
block,
Allison
saw
the
auction
assistant
wheel
in
her
painting.
She
held
her
breath.
Kenyon
elbowed
her
on
her
left
just
as
she
sensed
someone
slip
into
the
seat
next
to
her.
She
turned,
relieved
that
Jeremy
had
finally
showed
up,
only
to
see
that
it
wasn’t
Jeremy.
She
took
in
the
immaculate
cut
of
the
midnight
blue
suit.

“So,
the
good,
ole-boy
act
is
just
a
gimmick?”
she
shook
her
head
in
disgust.

Alex
winked
at
her.
“I
find
it
works
to
my
advantage
when
people
underestimate
me.”

“Ugh,
are
you
even
from
Georgia?”

“Yes,
Ma’am.”

“Cut
that
out."
She
gestured
to
his
paddle,
"I
have
half
a
mind
to
use
that
on
you.”