His By Design (16 page)

“I don’t think beating on it will help.”

The reading on the thermostat did change in response to her abuse. Now it read fifty-eight. “I’m beginning to get a really bad feeling about this. I’ll see if Jeff is back from Baltimore yet. Maybe he can come over and work some magic.”

“Good idea.” Amanda rubbed her hands together briskly.

Zoe dialed but the call went straight to voice mail. Jeff must still be working. She left a fairly desperate message and prayed he’d get it soon. She snapped her phone shut, irritated that Jeff wasn’t in town. “I guess I should try to find someone else in case he isn’t going to be back soon.”

Just when I need him the most, he’s unreachable. I’ve become much too dependent on that man.

Sighing heavily, she picked the local phonebook out of the bottom desk drawer. Opening it to ‘Heat and Air Conditioning’ she could see at a glance there were no companies in Blue Point Cove. She’d have to get someone from Salisbury. “Maybe I should call Marjorie first and ask her who she used when she renovated the B and B. There aren’t a lot of choices but I have no idea which company is best, or cheapest, which may be the deciding factor. Damn that man! Why couldn’t he answer his phone?”

“It’s hardly Jeff’s fault your heater is on the blink. How could he know you’d need him?” Amanda spread her hands, palms up. “I wish I could help you, but I’m as clueless as you about these things.” She draped her coat over her shoulders to ward off the increasing chill.

Zoe cradled her coffee mug in both hands to warm them. “Okay, no point in putting it off any longer. I’m calling Marjorie—” Her cell phone rang and she snatched it off the desk. “Hello? . . . Oh Jeff, thank goodness. Will you have to stay in Baltimore much longer? I’ve got a bit of a problem here.” She saw Amanda arch a brow at her description. “You are? That’s wonderful. Could you come straight to the gallery when you get in? Yeah, well . . .” She cleared her throat. “I don’t seem to have any heat.” She rolled her eyes toward heaven and nodded as she listened to Jeff’s reply. “Yes, Jeff, I did that. I’m not a complete idiot. It didn’t make any difference. The temperature just keeps dropping. I’m about to build a bonfire in my trashcan.” She dropped her chin and closed her eyes. “That was a joke, Jeff. A poor attempt at humor to keep me from crying.” She shook her head, exasperated. “You really must think I’m an idiot,” she mumbled half to herself. “Never mind. That comment wasn’t meant for you anyway. Just get here as soon as you can, okay? Thanks. Bye.”

She hung up, slapped the phone book closed and tossed it in the bottom drawer, shutting it with a bit more force than necessary.

“I take it Jeff is coming to the rescue,” Amanda commented after she took a sip of coffee.

“Yeah. Luckily he’s already on his way back. That’s why he didn’t answer his phone. He had to wait until he could pull over somewhere. He said he should be here in about thirty minutes.”

“Lucky for you he’ll put his own plans on hold to help you out.”

“You’re right. I shouldn’t be annoyed just because he wasn’t here instantly when the heater decided to go on the fritz. It’s not like he’s responsible for my problems.” She bit her lower lip and looked at Amanda sheepishly. “Guess I sounded a tad snarky, huh?”

Amanda nodded. “A little. But I know you’re under a lot of pressure. Jeff might not be aware of that, so you might want to cut him some slack.”

“You’re right.”
I’m just irritated because I miss him so much.
“Until Jeff gets here, why don’t we go up to my apartment and work there? At least the electric fireplace will keep us from frostbite and I can make us some hot cocoa.”

Amanda shivered despite being draped in her coat. “Brrr. Sounds good to me.”

Grabbing the accounts legers from her desk, Zoe led the way upstairs.

Amanda settled on a stool at the kitchen counter while Zoe heated water for the instant cocoa. Once the mugs were filled with hot chocolate and topped with tiny marshmallows they moved to the couch in front of the electric fireplace.

“You’re lucky Jeff installed this fireplace, Zoe. If he can’t fix the furnace downstairs right away, at least you won’t freeze up here. I’d offer to have you stay at my place but it’s not a whole lot warmer. It was built as a summer cottage and the baseboard heaters are struggling to keep up with this weather. Lately I’ve had to turn on the oven and open the door to warm up the place.”

Zoe wrapped her fingers around her mug to warm them. “I really hope this is something Jeff can fix. If I have to get a new unit, it will put a big hole in my bank account.”

She didn’t want to tell Amanda how big a hole, but there was a lake of red ink already collecting at the bottom.

Chapter 15

Jeff pulled back onto the highway and hunkered down behind the windshield. Once he had crossed the bridge the temperature had increased a few degrees. Enough to let him step up the pace without fear of black ice on the highway. Jen was out of the hospital after her first operation and staying with dad for another week or two, until her doctor’s appointments got further apart. Dad tried not to hover over her too much, but Jeff knew Jen would have a tough time keeping her temper under control when dad slipped back into his old ways.

“As soon as I don’t have to go see the doc for at least three weeks, I want you to come get me,” Jen had pleaded this morning when Dad went out to the kitchen to get her more coffee.

“I will.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise, Bug. Now chill. All that emotion can’t be good for those fresh stitches.”

“Don’t you worry about my stitches, they’ll be fine. It’s my sanity you need to worry about.”

“Already too late for that.” He gave her a wicked grin and dodged her punch. His heart was lighter than it had been in years, now that Jen’s first operation had gone so well.

Her surgeon wouldn’t commit to a timetable for round two. “Let’s see how quickly your sister heals before we start planning the next one. You two”—she waved her finger between them—“want fast. I want perfect.”

Perfect was fine with him. He’d have to sell a few more paintings anyway before they could afford more surgery. That was why he’d refused Jen’s offer to spend some of her money on a used car for him to make the trips to Baltimore from Blue Point. Frostbite or not, he wasn’t spending one dime of that money on himself. So Jen had made an end run and bought the windshield for him as a Christmas gift. With the temperature hovering around forty degrees, he had to admit he was grateful for it.

He was doubly glad Zoe had laid down the no gifts rule between them. Otherwise he would have looked like a real cheapskate after she wrote him that whopper check for selling ‘his’ paintings. As it was, she was more delighted to have Rusty do an exclusive show for her grand opening than she would have been with anything he could have bought for her.

As soon as he walked in the door to the gallery, he knew it was bad. The back room was barely warmer than outside. What warmth remained had risen above people level in the high-ceilinged room. He checked the thermostat then took the front panel off the heater. The heating coils were colder than a well-digger’s backside. He quickly discovered the problem. The coil had rusted through behind one of the brackets that held it in place. It had probably been deteriorating for years, but out of sight behind that damned bracket, he hadn’t spotted it. He’d call the company his dad recommended but considering the age of the furnace, he had his doubts he’d find a replacement part. Zoe would need a whole new system. Man, she would not be happy. He put the panel back in place, made the call and got the answer he’d expected. He blew out a long breath and trudged up the stairs to give Zoe the bad news.

If she asked him for a loan, what was he going to say? Sorry, I spent it all on . . .?

Damn. Every time he thought he’d got his life on an even keel, he’d look up to see a tidal wave bearing down on him.

“Zoe, you’re going to have to do something soon,” Amanda warned.

“I know, I know.” Zoe wandered around the gallery, brushing her fingers over one of the sculptures on display and making a minute adjustment to a painting of a lighthouse on a stormy night. “I can’t give up and close the place. It isn’t just my stuff anymore. There are Jeff’s paintings and sculptures and Marjorie’s jewelry is so beautiful I can’t bear to see it go.”

“The numbers don’t lie, Zoe. If you don’t bring in more money soon, you’ll have no choice.” Amanda looked down at her boots then back up, her lips set in a determined line. “Remember me telling you about Mrs. Wyndham? I did her quarterly tax estimate last week.”

“The old lady who owns half the town? Yeah, I remember you talking about that enormous house she calls ‘The Cottage.’ What about her?”

“She wants to do a big seventy-fifth birthday party for her husband around Memorial Day, before all the summer people arrive. And she’s looking for someone to handle all the details, an event planner.”

“And this concerns me, how?” Zoe polished an imaginary speck of dust off the glass display case with her sleeve.

“I thought maybe you and I could take the project on and make some extra money.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t know the first thing about event planning.” Zoe looked at Amanda as though she had lost her mind. “I have about as much qualification to be an event planner as I do to run for Mayor. That kind of thing is way too detailed for me. I’m more a broad strokes, big picture kind of gal.”

“Exactly. You’re creative, ingenious, have a flair for the dramatic, just what this job calls for. I don’t have a creative bone in my body, but I’m good at organization and number crunching. Together we’d make an awesome team. A couple of events a month during the off-season—a wedding, a baby shower, maybe a retirement dinner—and we’d make enough for you to keep the gallery open and me to pay my student loan bill on time.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Mandy. It seems kind of out of my league.”

“You could use some of the artwork from the gallery to decorate for parties. It would be a good way to get a few of these beautiful things in front of potential buyers who don’t come into the gallery to see them.”

Zoe saw the hope on Amanda’s face and hated to disappoint her, but event planning was so far afield from her talents she just couldn’t get her head around it. The extra exposure for her gallery’s artwork was a strong selling point, but still . . .

“Well, it was just a thought. Mrs. Wyndham’s budget floored me. Someone is going to make a ton of money doing this party and I figured it might as well be the two of us.” Amanda packed up her laptop and got ready to leave. “Think about it, Zoe. Or figure out another way to raise more cash. I’d hate to see you close this place.” She gave Zoe a quick hug and headed out the door. “Call me soon and we’ll do dinner, okay?”

“Sure thing,” Zoe mumbled, lost in thought. She followed Mandy to the door and started to rearrange the watercolors in the front window, deciding to swap two of them out for a larger one of Jeff’s. His were amazing and might bring in more browsers.

She glanced out the window to wave goodbye to her friend, just as Amanda pulled out in front of a big green SUV. Her own yell was drowned out by the screech of brakes and the blare of the SUV’s horn. The two vehicles impacted although the bigger car had managed to slow enough so that only a fender-bender resulted. The dark green SUV backed away and its driver got out to survey the damage. Zoe set the painting down and raced to the door.

The tall man straightened from his inspection. Zoe skidded to a halt next to Amanda in time to hear his annoyed comment.

“You always pull out into traffic without looking first? Or were you shooting for the ‘dumb woman driver’ award?”

“Well, no, I, uh—” Amanda stuttered.

“You’re damn lucky I’ve got good brakes, lady, or you’d be on the hook for a major repair bill.”

The fact that he wore a scowl and needed a shave didn’t keep Zoe from noticing his overall hunky-ness. But regardless, she leapt to her friend’s defense. “Mandy, are you all right? I saw the whole thing through the window. I thought you were going to get squashed by that big SUV.” She spun on the man. “You were going too fast through this shopping district. Don’t you read the speed limit signs?”

“Zoe, stop. It was my fault, not his. He must have been in the blind spot of my rearview mirror, but that’s no excuse.”

Zoe held her tongue but continued to glare at the guy.

He probably thinks that fancy truck and those killer looks will get him out of trouble. And Mandy’s such a sweetheart she’ll take all the blame anyway. Hmm, but I see he’s noticed how beautiful she is. That caught you by surprise, didn’t it, Mr. Hunk?

She waited until Amanda gave him her business card and he climbed back in his car and drove away. She tugged on Amanda’s sleeve to get her attention. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine, Zoe, really. Considering that the accident was totally my fault that guy was pretty reasonable. When he first got out of his car he wore such a scowl, I was afraid he was going to read me the riot act.”

“Not if I had anything to say about it,” Zoe huffed.

Amanda grinned. “Yeah, it was like watching a Chihuahua challenging a Great Dane. He was at least six-two and you barely clear five-feet-three.”

“Yeah, but he was one hot mess, don’t you think?” Zoe elbowed her in the ribs.

“Objectively speaking, I’d have to agree with you. Are you looking to find a replacement for Jeff?”

“No, you fool. I was sizing him up for you.”

“Well, don’t waste your time. I’m not interested. What you should be considering is the event planning business I suggested earlier.”

“I know, I know. Now that Jeff convinced Russell Manheim to do a major show here, he’ll expect me to pull out all the stops advertising. Having a top-notch artist offer us an exclusive showing of his work won’t mean diddly if I can’t put together enough money for decent advance notices. After all the work Jeff and I put into this place my bank account is on life-support and the new heater turned my credit card into a useless square of plastic. I only need a few thousand dollars, but it might as well be a few million.” Zoe watched hope flare to life in Amanda’s eyes.

“Think about the Wyndham party, Zoe. I know we’d be an awesome team.” She gave Zoe another hug and slid into her car.

Zoe waved and went inside, shivering from the brief exposure to the chill off Chesapeake Bay. Without a single customer for the rest of the day, she had plenty of time to ponder Mandy’s suggestion. By the time she closed, she realized she had no other viable option. She called her friend and accepted her offer.

She wouldn’t tell Jeff about this side business. She didn’t want him to realize how desperate her situation was. He might decide to try to find space in a gallery in Baltimore. His paintings were so good she doubted he’d have trouble, especially with his friendship with Russell Manheim as an ace in his pocket.

She squared her shoulders and glanced around the gallery. She wasn’t about to let her lifelong dream go down without a fight. If Amanda thought they could do this event planning thing together, she’d give it her best shot. But Amanda’s enthusiasm didn’t quell her misgivings completely.

“You look gorgeous, babe. All sultry and gypsy-like.”

Zoe paced through the gallery, dres
sed in a long denim skirt, white poet’s blouse, and snug black vest. She had gold hoops in her ears and sweat on her palms. Jeff had picked the worst possible time to drop by with a few more paintings.

This afternoon Amanda and she were going to Mrs. Wyndham’s home to give their pitch for planning her big birthday party. A pitch she fully expected would be turned down flat by the sleek, sophisticated woman with the mercurial temperament.

That they had gotten this far was solely due to Amanda’s existing relationship with the Wyndhams and her ability to project an aura of competence and professionalism despite being one of the two newest event planners on the planet.

Zoe barely remembered her first visit to ‘The Cottage’ due to an extreme set of nerves. Displays of wealth and power had always intimidated her and Mrs. Wyndham had both in spades. She did remember almost spilling the cup of tea Mrs. Wyndham had handed to her. After that
faux pas,
she folded her hands in her lap, kept her mouth shut and attempted to fade into the background. Amanda had done the convincing that got them a shot at landing the biggest bash Blue Point Cove had ever seen. If they were successful their fee would get both of them out of red ink for months to come.

“I thought I might cash in that Christmas present you gave me, sweet cheeks.” Jeff leaned against the counter, his clay-spattered jeans and faded Eagles T-shirt outlining his trim physique.

Ordinarily his tousled hair and smoldering gaze would have her imagining a delightful afternoon spent in bed. Jeff could wheedle a lot of things out of her, but posing nude today was not going to be one of them.

“I told you, Jeff, it’s not happening this afternoon. Don’t ask me again.”

“Aw, come on, babe. Just an hour or so. I won’t be long, I promise.” He reached out and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I’ll keep the studio really warm, put on that music you like . . .”

Zoe batted his hand away. “What part of ‘no’ don’t you understand? For the last time, I will not pose in the nude for you today. I have too much to do.” She glanced up and saw Amanda trying not to smile as she pretended an interest in one of Jeff’s sea-life sculptures. “I gotta go. Which means you have to go, too. I’m locking up for an hour to . . .” she mumbled “. . . to run an errand.”

Jeff straightened away from the glass case. “Okay, sweet cheeks, we’ll finish this discussion later.” He brushed a thumb over her cheekbone and turned to leave.

“The discussion is finished,” Zoe declared to his retreating back. She rolled her eyes and huffed.

“He seems pretty determined.” Amanda couldn’t hide a grin.

Zoe’s dark-brown eyes flashed with annoyance. “The man does have a boat-load of sex appeal, but when he gets a wild hair about seeing me naked, I’m supposed to drop everything and strip so he can do sketches for the secret project he won’t let me see. In fact I’m beginning to believe his real interest in me is modeling. The sex part is just his way of getting me to agree to pose. It’s not like he hasn’t seen me naked in bed a few times, for pity’s sake.”