Flash (37 page)

“Well, as long as I haven't yet fallen through, I've got a favor to ask. In fact, I was just about to call you.”

“Don't hold your breath.”

“This is serious.” Andy dropped his hearty, cajoling tone. “Any chance you can get me into the Dane Retrospective reception at the Kesgrove Museum tomorrow night?”

“Give me one good reason.”

“I'll give you two reasons. I've given you two great mentions in
Hard Currency
recently.”

“This may come as a shock, Andy, but I haven't been real thrilled with having my events called Foil Town and a glow-in-the-dark arcade game.”

“You're a businesswoman. How about we do a deal?”

“What kind of deal?” she asked suspiciously.

“I'll give you advance notice of some information that I think you'll find interesting. In return, you get me into the reception.”

“What's your information?”

“Word is, Crawford Lee Wilder is flying in to cover the Logan Dane Retrospective. He'll be at the reception.”

“Damn. Now my day is just perfect.”

“Have we got a bargain?” Andy asked.

“Yeah, sure. Why not? I'll get you a ticket to the
reception. After all, Light Fantastic isn't producing the event. You'll have to insult some other event firm in your next issue.”

It wasn't until after she hung up the phone that she realized she had just made her own decision to attend the reception.

If the event had been anything other than a reception to launch the Logan Dane Retrospective, Olivia thought, she probably would have enjoyed herself. It was not often these days that she got an opportunity to be a guest at an affair staged by one of her competitors.

A glossy crowd in formal black-tie attire filled the Northwest wing of the Kesgrove Museum. The marble floors echoed with the patter of a hundred pairs of high heels.

Olivia conceded privately that Out of Sight Productions had done a fine job. The event firm had had the great good sense to let Logan's disturbing paintings provide the focal points of the evening.

There was no glitter, no sparkle, no garish colors to compete with the dark brainstorms that splashed across the canvases. The only lighting in the room was that which focused on the pictures looming on the walls.

The buffet tables were draped in stark black-and-white bunting. The serving staff wore severe white jackets and black trousers. Most of the guests had instinctively worn black and white.

“Tasteful,” Jasper said dryly.

“In a word.” Olivia smiled in spite of her edgy mood. “Not exactly a Light Fantastic type of event, is it?”

“We all have our niches in the great ecosystem of the business world.”

“Very philosophical.”

“We CEOs are supposed to be able to grasp the big picture.”

“I try to bear that in mind, but for some reason I keep forgetting.” She turned to him on impulse. “Thanks for coming with me tonight. I haven't exactly been looking forward to this. I appreciate the support.”

“Forget it.” Jasper's eyes gleamed. “That's what partners are for.”

It occurred to Olivia that the word
partner
was beginning to grate on her nerves. But, then, everything grated on her nerves tonight. She would not be able to relax until the reception was over.

“Take it easy,” Jasper said, as if he could read her mind. “We can leave anytime you want.”

“Unfortunately, we just got here,” Olivia muttered.

“Olivia,
you came.”

Olivia turned at the sound of her name and saw Nina. Her cousin was glowing. The happiness in her eyes was more than enough, Olivia decided, to repay her for coming to the reception.

“I'm so glad you're here.” Nina squeezed her hand briefly. “You don't know how much your presence will mean to Sean.” She gave Jasper a warm smile. “You must be Jasper Sloan. I'm Nina Chantry.”

He smiled. “How do you do?”

Nina glanced at Olivia and then turned her attention back to Jasper. “The two of you gave us all quite a scare. What an incredible story.”

Jasper shrugged that aside. “Congratulations on the turnout. Looks like the exhibition will be a big success.”

Sean, his handsome, sensitive features lightened with a warm smile, emerged from the crowd. He came to stand beside Nina.

“Olivia, I'm glad you're here tonight,” Sean said. “It means a lot.”

“Thanks.” This time Olivia remembered her manners. She made introductions quickly.

Jasper and Sean shook hands.

Nina smiled at Sean. “I think I'd better circulate a bit.”

“Go ahead,” Sean said. “I'll catch up with you later.”

Olivia saw the warm affection in his eyes as he watched Nina disappear into the crowd.

Sean gave Jasper a speculative look. Then he turned back to Olivia. “I want you to know, Olivia,
that none of us who were close to Logan will ever forget what you did for his career.”

“I wasn't the one who launched him. It was Uncle Rollie's friend, Wilbur. All I did was introduce the two of them.”

“You did more than introduce Logan to one of the most influential gallery owners on the West Coast,” Sean said deliberately. “You steadied him for a while.”

She smiled wistfully. “A very short time, I'm afraid.”

“He was a stick of dynamite with a lit fuse,” Sean said. “Sooner or later, he was doomed to explode. No one could have saved Logan from himself. It took some of us a while to understand that.”

Olivia realized he was trying to tell her something important. “It's all right, Sean.”

“No.” Sean glanced fleetingly at Jasper before turning back to her. “There are things that need to be said. One of the reasons I wanted you to be here tonight was because I think it's time that the arts community knows that Logan's family has finally gotten things back into proper perspective.”

“You mean you've finally stopped blaming her for Dane's death?” Jasper asked coolly.

Olivia, already tense, felt herself go rigid. “Jasper, please.”

“He's right,” Sean said grimly. “Three years ago we were all mired in our own private world of grief. But I think we knew the truth, even then.”

“But a legend is always a lot more interesting than the truth, isn't it?” Jasper murmured.

“Jasper.” Olivia glared at him.

He did not look at her. His attention was fixed on Sean, who had flushed a dull red.

“Yes,” Sean said very steadily. “There is a seductive sort of comfort in a legend. Those of us who loved Logan needed comfort. So we allowed ourselves to be seduced.”

Olivia felt Jasper shift his balance very slightly, just enough to bring him unmistakably closer to her. It was like having a very well-dressed bodyguard, she thought. When the sleeve of his evening jacket brushed against her arm, she was acutely aware of the strength in him.

“You never bothered to correct the legend,” Jasper pointed out.

“A legend tends to take on a life of its own,” Sean admitted.

“And it can be extremely profitable.”

Olivia planted the heel of her shoe on Jasper's toe. It was the only thing she could think of that might make him stop goading Sean.

Jasper gave her a sardonic look and extricated his foot.

“I can't argue with that.” Sean's jaw tightened. He glanced meaningfully around at the paintings on the walls. “But I like to think that at least some of the recognition Logan's work is getting tonight is due to his talent, not just a well-orchestrated legend.”

“All
of the recognition his painting is getting is due to his talent,” Olivia said firmly.

Sean flashed another, unreadable glance at Jasper who somehow managed to loom even larger.

“I wonder if I might talk to you alone for a few minutes,” Sean said to Olivia.

“Don't mind me,” Jasper said. “Olivia and I are partners. We share just about everything.”

Enough was enough, Olivia decided. Jasper was getting unpredictable. If things continued on in this vein there might well be an embarrassing scene before the evening ended.

“Would you mind getting me something to eat from the buffet?” she asked bluntly.

Jasper's eyes narrowed. It was clear that he did not like being dismissed. For a few seconds she was afraid he would refuse to leave. She beetled her brows at him.

“Sure.” With a slight shrug, he turned and waded into the throng.

Sean watched Jasper's broad back disappear into the sea of well-dressed guests. “Sloan is very protective of you, isn't he?”

“We're both still getting over what happened with Dixon Haggard in that storage facility.”

Sean looked thoughtful. “I think it goes a little deeper than that.”

“Jasper and I do have business interests in common,” she allowed. “That sort of thing does tend to create a certain bond.”

Sean's fine mouth curved briefly. “I saw the look in his eyes. Trust me, whatever he's feeling toward you goes way beyond a mutual interest in Glow.”

“What was it you wanted to say to me, Sean?”

He seemed to brace himself. “I think you should know that I'm aware of everything that happened three years ago.”

What was this all about? Olivia wondered. The urge to automatically search the crowd for Nina's face in order to get a clue was almost overwhelming. She resisted with an effort.

“I see,” she said, careful to sound noncommittal.

“Nina told me about her affair with Logan.”

Olivia went very still. The laughter and conversation around her seemed to recede into the distance.

“I see,” she said again, unable to think of anything more intelligent.

“She also told me that you knew about it at the time. She said it was typical of you to protect her by staying silent.”

“Sean, there is nothing to be gained from going over this ground.”

“You could have thrown her to the wolves three years ago. You could have told Crawford Lee Wilder that Logan's Dark Muse was his young, innocent model. Wilder could have stuck Nina into his damned Dane legend instead of you.”

“You don't know Crawford. He would have used whatever he thought worked best in his story.”

“She was very young. Very naive. She never stood a chance against Logan. But she was terrified of what I would think of her if I knew the truth.”

“Sean, I really do not want to discuss this.”

“Neither do I,” Sean said. “But it's time we did talk about it. There isn't much more to say, really. I just wanted you to know that I know.”

“When did Nina tell you?”

“Three days ago when I asked her to marry me. She suddenly burst into tears and told me everything.
She said she couldn't marry me unless I knew that she was Logan's Dark Muse. She was terrified that I would blame her for driving him to his death.”

Olivia watched him closely. “But you don't blame her, do you?”

“Hell, no. I don't blame anyone anymore. Logan was his own worst enemy, and in the end he killed himself.” Sean hesitated. “We haven't told my parents, though.”

Olivia stiffened. “I understand.”

“I'm not sure my mother could ever accept Nina into the family if she was forced to substitute her for you in the legend of Logan Dane.”

Olivia smiled wanly. “There's no need to tell anyone else. With any luck, the legend will fade with time. Only Logan's art will remain. That's as it should be.”

Relief and gratitude lit Sean's eyes. “Thanks, Olivia. And thank you for coming here this evening.”

“My pleasure,” she lied softly.

With a nod, Sean drifted away into the crowd. She watched him until he was no longer in sight. So much for breaking the bonds between the Chantrys and the Danes, she thought. Nina and Sean would no doubt have children. The two families were going to be linked forever.

From out of nowhere, another one of Rollie's pithy remarks came back to her.
Trying to sever a family tie is sort of like trying to pretend that there is no such thing as gravity. You can get away with it for a while, but sooner or later you realize you're stuck.

Olivia looked at the huge painting hanging on the
wall in front of her. Everything Logan had ever done had been larger than life, most especially his art, she thought. He would have taken enormous satisfaction out of knowing that he had become a legend. She contemplated the roiling darkness that boiled and churned on the canvas.

“If it hadn't been for you, no one here would even know his name,” drawled a familiar voice.

She stifled a groan. She really did owe Andy Andrews for giving her advance warning that Crawford would be here tonight, she thought.

“Hello, Crawford.”

She studied his trademark black turtleneck, expensive black Italian-cut jacket, and black jeans. It was the look that had inflamed the dreams of countless would-be freelance writers, she reflected. His shoulder-length hair, tied in a ponytail with a silver thong, looked a little too black. She realized that he had resorted to coloring it.