Santa Fe Fortune (4 page)

“I’m not sure about that. Something tells me you might not be the most cooperative student.”

Dan raised his brows in surprise, then released another belly laugh. “You’ve probably got me there. Nancy tried to teach me ‘Chopsticks’ once when I was ten, and I never quite got through it.”

Gwen couldn’t help but soften at his self-effacing honesty. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to start liking the man, and that might cloud her judgment in any business dealings. She finished her coffee, realizing lunch was nearly over and they’d not yet talked turkey.

“Some people have more natural talent than others,” she said kindly.

“Like you do for painting, for instance,” he said, turning the conversation in what Gwen hoped would be the right direction.

“I appreciate you thinking so,” she said, feeling her heart warm. “I really enjoy what I do. The thought that it might also bring happiness to someone else is just wonderful.”

“When did you start painting again?”

“Oh, I did it off and on. Just for me, you know. Could never entirely let it go over the years. Then on my thirtieth birthday, my little sister, Marian, gave me the most beautiful gift, a completely new set of oils and brushes. I’d been getting by with old things, mostly cast-offs from the school art teacher who’d been sympathetic to my cause.”

“Marian must know you very well.”

“We’re super close,” Gwen said, feeling the burn in her throat. “The gift was extra special because oils are expensive, and Marian… Well, she…she doesn’t have a lot of money.”

“So that’s when it really started? When you began painting more regularly?”

Gwen nodded, willing away the unpleasant memory of Robert coming in and upending her very first seascape.
“Ridiculous,”
he’d said.
“Where do you think you’ll get with that? You sure as hell can’t sing. What makes you think you can paint?”

Gwen blinked, briefly turning away. When she turned back to Dan, she found herself caught up in his sky-blue gaze. The way he looked at her was soothing, as if he had all the time in the world to listen to what she had to say, and like none of it was ridiculous.

“I did start painting more then, yes. It was easier without the resistance.”

“Resistance?”

“That doesn’t really matter anymore,” she said, forcing a smile. “I found a way to move beyond it.”

“And the clients at Holbrook and Holstein will be glad. I assure you.”

“I’m glad you brought that up so I didn’t have to.”

He looked at her earnestly. “Gwen, I’ve had a great time at lunch with you, really I have. But I have no illusions about why a beautiful young woman like you would spend time with a washed-up old bachelor like me.”

Gwen blushed at the compliment but wasn’t about to let herself get derailed by his manly attentions. As long as he’d started the ball rolling, she needed to push it along. “You underestimate yourself, Dan. But it’s good to know you’ve reconsidered underestimating my work.”

His gaze filled with admiration. She was being a little saucy, and he apparently liked it. “I spoke with Nancy like I promised. Holbrook and Holstein is prepared to set a fair price for your art. We can’t quite go up to four thousand, but if you’re willing to agree to three-five, we think we can cut a deal.”

The way he’d said that made it almost seem real, as if this was actually going to happen for her. Gwen tried to contain her excitement. “Excellent,” she said, giving him what she hoped was a warm, even smile. “I’m open to discussing that.”

“Of course, I’m sure you’re familiar with how things work,” he continued. “Gallery sales are commission based, so whatever price we arrive at is provisional.”

The corners of Gwen’s mouth took a downturn. The fact was, she didn’t know this at all. “I’m sorry. I’m not sure what you’re saying.”

Dan set his empty coffee cup aside and laced his fingers together in a sincere fashion. “I’m saying the gallery takes a commission. That’s how it stays in business. Your work for sale there is basically on consignment.”

The shock and horror hit her in the stomach like a sucker punch. “Consignment? But nothing in Ms. Holstein’s email said anything about—”

His gaze softened, genuinely apologetic. “I’m sorry, Gwen. She probably thought you knew. Most of the artists we deal with are…experienced.”

Gwen felt a flash of anger, but she quelled it, realizing nobody had intentionally tried to mislead her. “Are you saying I won’t be getting any money now?” she asked, trying to mask the desperation in her voice.

“Now?” he asked, as if he’d never considered the possibility. “You mean, like during your ten-day trip to Santa Fe?

“Gwen, we’re dealing with a process, here. We agree on what we think a reasonable buyer might pay in this market. That is the sale price. The two of us sign a contract, and then you ship the canvases. Once they’re here, we hang them up for sale. As money comes in, it’s funneled directly to you, less the gallery’s twenty-percent commission.”

Gwen felt her entire world crumbling in on her. Maybe it was her fault, hoping for too much in just one visit. But what if things didn’t sell? What if enough money didn’t come on time? What if the bank failed to extend its credit?

Gwen thought of Marian and her kids, of lives pulling apart… Of Robert’s repeated infidelities… Her art box being tossed into the ocean… Something cut loose inside, and she felt like she might lose it at any second, break down sobbing on this already soppy napkin. She opened her purse and pulled out a tissue.

Dan reached a steadying hand across the table and laid it on hers. “Gwen? Are you all right?”

“Excuse me,” she said, dabbing the corner of her eye. “I’ll be right back.”

Dan sat there for the longest time, wondering what he’d done wrong. Could Gwen truly have thought she’d fly out of here in just over a week with wads of cash lining her pockets? Were her circumstances really that bad? She’d seemed so fragile when she’d rushed out of here, as if she might break apart at any minute. Dan had no idea what sort of situation she was in, but he did know one thing. If he could, he wanted to help.

 
After what seemed like an eternity, Gwen resurfaced, all fresh-faced with newly applied lipstick and powder. Dan was finally starting to understand why women kept so much nonsense in their purses. It was for emergency situations like this.

“Any better?” he asked with concern.

She gave a sniff and lifted her chin.

“Allergies. Never know when they’re going to hit me.”

“Glad you’re okay.”

“Yes,” she said, taking her seat. “Just fine, thanks.” She noted the credit card receipt on the table. “Oh, you’ve already paid the bill. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to—”

“My pleasure,” he said, meaning it. He hadn’t had a lunch this interesting with a woman in a decade. Everything he’d learned about Gwen had been fascinating. But what intrigued him most was all that he didn’t know. “Gwen,” he began, hoping to broach the subject lightly. “I couldn’t help but notice you were a little…thrown by our arrangement.”

“The consignment, you mean?” she asked proudly. “Oh no, I knew all about it. I suspected that’s how things went.” It was a brave cover, but Dan saw straight through it. Didn’t help her that her chin still trembled slightly.

“That’s how it normally goes,” he answered. “But there’s really no need for us to go getting all bogged down in normalcy, wouldn’t you say?”

She knitted her delicately sculpted brow. “I’m sorry? I’m not sure I follow.”

A few gold tendrils broke free from their pins and spilled forward. Dan had an idiotic impulse to reach out and sweep them back, chancing a touch of her alabaster skin. He stopped himself just in time, tucking away the bill receipt in his pocket instead. “How soon can you get your canvases out here?”

“To Santa Fe? Why, in just a few days. They’re all packaged and ready to ship.”

“That settles it, then,” he said with a wide, easy grin.

“Settles what? I haven’t signed any contract.”

“No, but if you will, I have an idea,” he said slyly.

“What sort of idea is that?” she whispered, angling forward.

Dan looked straight in her eyes with calm reassurance. “We don’t normally operate this fast, but I do have a list of potential buyers I can contact.”

Her face lit up like the most stunning sunrise. “Are you saying what I think you are?”

“If fortune smiles on us, we might be able to sell a canvas or two before you leave.”

“All five?” she asked with a hopeful glow.

Dan feared he’d done the wrong thing, caused her to think it was a certainty that this would go off. But when she’d gone all weepy on him, it had been impossible for Dan to stop himself. The truth was he had the means to buy all five of Gwen’s canvases himself without even making a dent in his money-market account. But that would make the dealings between them personal, and Dan had vowed to keep things on a professional level.

Dan returned her gaze with cautious determination. “Let’s not go pushing our luck,” he said, sensing he’d gotten in over his head. He envisioned a huge, raw T-bone getting tossed onto a grill. Perspiration built at his brow, and he lifted Gwen’s soggy napkin from the table to dab it.

“I need to get back to work,” he said, standing and helping Gwen with her chair. “Think you might stop by later to sign the papers? The gallery closes at eight. That would be a good time.”

“Eight o’clock it is,” she said with a smile that knocked his socks off and held potential to knock other items of clothing off too.

Dan said a polite good-bye, then hustled out of there like a rabbit being hunted by a pack of wild coyotes. He needed to get his head together and figure his way through these next few days. Not that this should be a problem for a take-charge guy like him who knew how and where to draw the line.

Dan knew it was for the best, and really in Gwen’s interest, for him to back off from any sort of romantic notions now, while the backing was good. No matter what
Santa
Fean
magazine said about Dan being the “Best Billionaire Bachelor Catch in the West,” privately he knew his shortcomings would give even the most understanding woman pause. Dan had been down that dusty trail once and was determined never to go there again. Didn’t matter what sort of attractive filly came out of the gate. The fact of the matter was Dan wasn’t riding.

****

Chapter Three

Gwen left the restaurant by exiting onto the main plaza, an oasis of green in the earth-toned adobe town. Huge shade trees lined its crisscrossing sidewalks, dotted with wrought-iron benches and lampposts. Bordered by the nation’s oldest public building, the Palace of Governors, on one side and an array of upscale shops on the others, it was the city’s central gathering spot and playground, complete with a bandstand in which an impromptu flautist played. Gwen strode past a snow-cone vendor and a couple of quesadilla carts on her way to explore the smattering of handmade goods the locals had spread on the ground atop woven blankets. She surveyed the assorted silver jewelry, accented with turquoise, and small trinkets for sale with an appreciative eye, and made complimentary small talk with the Native American and Mexican peoples proudly showcasing their wares.

A warm breeze blew as the sun angled high, bathing Santa Fe in its rosy glow, the impressive Sangre de Cristo Mountains just visible in the distance, their highest peaks capped with snow, even in summertime. Gwen made her way up a side street to visit Saint Francis Cathedral, a stunning Romanesque Revival structure challenging the surrounding adobe architecture with its sweeping arches and brightly hued stained-glass windows.

Perspiration dampened her hairline as she climbed the steps to the building’s entrance. It was warmer in the sunlight, the scarcely filtered ultraviolet rays bearing down on her, causing her feet and hands to swell. At once, the thin gold band on her left ring finger felt too tight. She twisted it slightly as she continued her ascent toward the cathedral’s front door. Gwen hadn’t prayed for anything in a long time. In fact, she hadn’t been to church since Robert left. Maybe she should have. Thinking it over, she understood she had much to be thankful for. Not least among her blessings was her opportunity to come here.

Gwen passed through the enormous wooden door, her senses immediately engulfed by burning incense. Though she wasn’t Catholic, she didn’t believe God would mind if she took a spot on a pew for a few moments to mull through her life. What an event it had been. There’d been so much to it she’d never seen coming. When she met Robert in college, he’d appeared so promising. He was ambitious and fun and seemed poised to carve out a good life for himself and any lady lucky enough to join him. When he’d asked Gwen to marry him just before graduation, she’d been over the moon. He had a good job offer in Wilmington, and they could settle in the nearby town where Gwen had grown up and her family still lived. It had all seemed so idyllic at first.

Gwen glanced down at the completely ineffectual wedding ring as her hand rested in her lap. It hadn’t taken long for Robert to find someone he thought more intelligent and interesting than her. She bored him to tears with her tales of kids in school and had no real talents as far as he could gather. The people he worked with were insightful, intuitive, interesting… Maybe if Gwen looked more at the papers or followed the news, she’d be interesting too, though he kind of doubted it.