Love After All (23 page)

“Samantha graciously accepted my invitation at the last minute. I hope that's not a problem.”

Jackson smiled as Marcus directed his attention to the woman standing by his side. His eyes widened and his entire demeanor transformed to a lecherous smile. “Of course not, the more the merrier. Good evening, my dear, welcome to my home, and you are?” he asked, taking her hand gently while completely enamored.

“Dad,” Jackson said, “this is a friend of mine, Samantha Lee. Samantha, this is my father, Marcus Daley.”

Samantha instantly turned on the charm. She smiled graciously as Marcus continued to hold on to her hand. He squeezed gently, adding a punctuated interest as he moved closer to kiss her cheek. The otherwise cool welcome to his son was long forgotten as poise and grace flowed out like water.

Samantha went into action. She chose a slight accent, giving her vernacular and cadence a sophisticated character. “It's a pleasure and an honor to finally meet you, Mr. Daley. I'm a huge fan of yours.”

“Please, call me Marcus,” he gushed as Jackson's jaw dropped slightly. Without the slightest hesitation, Samantha had slipped into a perfect British accent.

“Marcus,” she said sweetly as she held on to his hand a second longer than necessary, “I must say, your photos don't do you justice,” she added, knowing that Marcus would appreciate the compliment. He did.

“Come in, come in,” Marcus said, overly attentive to her plunging neckline. “Well, now, Jackson, you've been holding out on me. Where have you been hiding this lovely young lady? I see why you were reluctant to leave town. You, my dear—” he took the opportunity to let his eyes drift down her body “—are breathtaking.”

“Thank you, Marcus,” she flirted easily. “I can see where Jackson gets his charm and attractiveness.”

Marcus chuckled. “So you're British?” Marcus asked.

“Really, I hadn't noticed,” Samantha said jokingly.

Marcus laughed aloud. “Priceless, you are simply priceless. It's a shame you met Jackson first or you and I might have become great friends.”

“More's the pity.”

Jackson smiled, knowing his father's preference for women more than half his age and Samantha with her abundant charisma and now British accent had won him over instantly. But he also knew enough about Samantha to know that her flirtation was all show. Two seconds in the door and she already had him eating out of her hand. Marcus, completely ignoring Jackson, talked to Samantha a few minutes more.

“Tell me, how did you two meet?”

“Quite by accident actually. I leaned over and kissed him while on an airplane.”

Marcus roared with laugher. “I love it. I love it. And as I said, we might have become great friends.” He turned to Jackson incidentally. “Watch out, boy, I might just edge you out. Come, I'd like to introduce you to some of my closer friends.”

Marcus extended his elbow and Samantha instantly tucked her arm into his as he led her into the living room. Jackson smiled, shook his head and followed.

As soon as he reached the living room, Marcus paused. He'd obviously forgotten his assurances to George that Jackson would arrive alone, giving him and his daughter the perfect opportunity to get reacquainted. Uncertain of his next move at seeing George standing at the fireplace with his wife Darla, he turned to Jackson standing on the other side of Samantha. Marcus froze midstep.

“Are you ready for this?” she whispered to Jackson.

“As I'll ever be,” he answered.

“Then let's go get him.”

George and Darla turned and looked up, seeing them enter, surprised by the sight of Samantha evidently with Jackson. George eyed Samantha suspiciously as he stared angrily at Marcus for misleading him. He'd been assured by Marcus that Jackson was still very much enamored with his daughter, Shauna.

Jackson glanced at Jessie, who smiled, obviously entertained by the moment. Paul, her friend, stood to the side talking with another couple as several others mingled. Samantha walked over to George and Darla smiling. “Hi, I'm Samantha Lee, a friend of the family.”

George paused a brief moment to spare a glace to Marcus, who looked slightly shell-shocked, then introduced himself, his wife and his daughter seated beside Jessie. They all shook hands as Samantha noticed George reach into his pocket and wipe his hands on his handkerchief.

Seeing Jackson enter, Shauna stood, glared at him, and walked over to her father's side. Jackson looked at Samantha—she understood. Apparently he and Shauna had a history. Bewildered and confused, Shauna shook Samantha's hand timidly and looked at her father for confirmation, then to Jackson who stood across the room still speaking with his father.

Pleasantries continued as another young woman seated with Jessie stood and walked over. She was introduced as Marcus's latest acquaintance, hopeful D-list actress and rising television star, Pamela Frasier.

After graciously acknowledging Pamela, Samantha turned to Jessie, who had also walked over. They hugged warmly as if old friends, giving added credence to the friend-of-the-family story. “You look fantastic,” Samantha said to Jessie, hoping that she wouldn't blow her cover story. Instead, surprisingly, to her delight she added to the performance and even seemed to delight in seeing her again.

“Thanks, girl, you look great yourself. I love your hair down like that. The last time I saw you it looked shorter, but it seems like ages ago. You know that we still have lunch scheduled next week.”

“I'm there,” Samantha promised.

George excused himself and walked over to Marcus and Jackson.

“Okay now, where did you get that dress? It's fantastic. Turn around, let me see the back,” Jessie added.

Samantha turned, spotting Jackson glance at her from across the room as he talked with his father and George Cooperman, who hadn't taken his eyes off her since she'd walked in. Jackson looked furious. Knowing that Shauna would witness the interaction, Samantha winked at Jackson, prompting his expression to ease as he smiled and winked back.

“Oh, I love it, I love it,” Pamela gushed joyfully with her slight Brooklyn accent.

“It is gorgeous,” Darla chimed in as Shauna stood mute, not liking the obvious competition for attention. “I'd love to get one. Where did you find it?”

Samantha talked easily about her excursion to the boutiques, leaving out Jackson's presence, of course. Then she talked and joked easily with Jessie, giving the impression of a long well-developed friendship. She played the role and they accepted. The brief girlfriendlike conversation was apparently all that George needed to be assured that Samantha was indeed a close family friend and not in competition with his daughter for Jackson's affections.

Having saved a potentially awkward situation, Samantha and Jessie gathered Darla and began talking about the latest clothing designs. Pamela sizzled over to Marcus and entwined her arm with his possessively, poking her silicone breasts into his arm in an obvious attempt to reclaim her position.

The doorbell rang, and several more guests arrived. As they intermingled, dispersed in the living-room den and out on the terrace, they sipped champagne and ate hors d'oeuvres from silver platters circulated by waiters. The small intimate dinner party had turned into a major event.

George found his way over to Samantha. As he'd been staring at her since she arrived, she'd expected as much. “A friend of the family, eh?” George said, walking over after making sure that both his wife and daughter were preoccupied in the garden with several other guests.

“Yes, our two families go back a ways,” she said.

“Oh, I see,” he said, nodding his understanding. “Samantha Lee,” he began. “That's a beautiful name for a very beautiful woman.”

“Thank you, Mr. Cooperman,” she replied, lightly stroking his arm for added effect.

“Are you here visiting or are you a resident now?”

“I'm just passing through on my way home.”

“England, I presume. Is it Leeds or London proper?” he asked, showing his astute knowledge of accents.

“You have a very good ear, Mr. Cooperman.”

“Thank you. In fact, I was just in your country a few weeks ago. I picked up a little something for my office.”

“Really, pity we didn't meet earlier,” she said openly. “Could have showed you around. There are some interesting out-of-the-way places you might have enjoyed.”

“Yes,” George said with interest. “Pity.”

“Maybe next time,” she said as his eyes sparked.

They continued talking, mainly about his business, his wealth, his ingenuity, his success and his money. Then he finally got around to what she had expected. “So, Ms. Lee, what exactly do you do?”

“I consult.”

“On business matters, perhaps?” he asked.

“Business, oh, no, hardly, I wouldn't know where to even begin,” she said, playing the part well. “I'm much more imaginative.”

“For instance,” he asked quickly, sounding excited, “what do you consult on?” George asked.

“A number of things, but for you, Mr. Cooperman, I think—” she paused and smiled “—art.” She remembered that the quick search on the Internet had been a wealth of information. She knew from her research that he collected art and fancied himself an art connoisseur, patronizing local artists and galleries, and most importantly, he loved anything British.

“Intriguing,” George said, stepping closer. She smiled.

“Tell me, what do you think of this piece?” he asked about a small painting on the near wall behind her.

Samantha looked over, smiling. “It's enjoyable.”

“Is that your professional opinion?” he asked.

“Well, in my professional opinion,” she began, then took a closer look at the small painting. “For what it is, it's under-dramatized. The artist is too timid. He used pastel oils, which gives the piece an ethereal effect. Consequently, the piece comes off weak and inadequate. Although there are definite traces of a bolder and more brazen brushstroke, I think the painting falls flat.”

George's face brightened as he eased closer, blocking the rest of the room with his large body. “I quite agree.”

“Perhaps too Norman Rockwell's Saturday Evening Post where the outrage of Picasso might have worked better.” She laughed noncommittally. He joined in for no apparent reason.

“Do you like art, Mr. Cooperman?”

“Yes, I collect art, as a matter of fact.”

“Fascinating. I'd love to see your collection,” she said pleasantly.

“That can definitely be arranged.”

“I'd be delighted.”

“Splendid, perhaps you might come by my office one afternoon and—” he paused “—consult. I'd love to get your opinion of some of the art I recently purchased. A new piece arrived for my office just last week. I think you might enjoy seeing what I have to offer.”

Samantha smiled. This was just the invitation she was expecting. “That would be wonderful.” George reached into his pocket and handed her his personal business card. She read the information, then smiled up at him. “How about tomorrow afternoon?” she asked.

George stepped back and looked around, and saw that his wife had just entered the room again. “Perfect,” he said happily. “I look forward to your consultation.”

“As do I,” she said sweetly, seeing Paul also walking toward them. “So tell me more about your business,” she offered, changing the subject as Darla approached.

George instantly began to describe in detail the pressures of his company and the new pressure of the federal indictment. A few minutes later Samantha excused herself as George went back to bragging to Paul about the deal he'd recently struck with his ex-partner, sending the man into bankruptcy and making himself a large fortune, and how he'd just testified to a federal grand jury of no wrongdoing. Boastful and arrogant, he continued his loud bragging.

Small groups spread throughout the lower level. Jackson eventually wandered over to stand beside Samantha. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Immensely.”

“I noticed you speaking with George.”

“Yes, we—” she began but was interrupted.

“Excuse me, may I have everyone's attention?” Marcus began. The room quieted down as everyone looked to the center where he stood. “Well, now that almost everyone is here, I'd like to make a little announcement. Actually, George and I would like to make a little announcement. George?” Marcus offered, motioning for George to join him.

“Yes, of course,” George said, stepping to the center of the room beside Marcus. They shook hands and smiled, pleased, then turned to the assembled guests.

“As you all know,” Marcus said. “Daley Communications has gone through several challenges in the past few months. The death of my wife and the leadership role I've assumed have given me a renewed insight. I have reorganized our executive offices and the changes will be continuing in the near future. I have also taken steps to ensure our visibility in the current market by initiating a new division.