To Catch a Billionaire (11 page)

“Security won’t be a problem, I promise. I’ve increased the staff with ex-Marines who work for a highly regarded security company. These men are aware of what’s taken place and I trust their abilities to secure the place and the art,” Erin assured him.

“I don’t know, Erin,” Jeff said as he motioned to the works she’d chosen “These are the most promising of my pieces.” He motioned to the photos. “It took me two years to complete these three and another six to eight months for each of the others.”

“What can I say or do to make you comfortable with my gallery? Your father showed his work here when my father was alive. It would be my pleasure to help you on your journey to success, Jeff. Please let Cameron’s do this for you,” Erin urged him gently.

A knock at the door was followed by Meredith. “Excuse me, Erin. Mr. Forsyth insists he see you before he leaves for New York.”

With a light sigh, she said, “I’ll be right there.”

Before Meredith could turn away, Tristan brushed past her. “Lest we not meet until tonight at the gala, I wanted to encourage you to offer Jeff a larger percentage on his sales.” His blue-eyed stare switched to Jeff. “I wish you the best of luck with your opening here.” He gave Erin a wink as Jeff stood silent, looking over his pictures. “You won’t do better at another gallery, Jeff. I can say that for certain.”

Jeff looked at Tristan and smiled. “I’m sure you’re right. Mr. Forsyth.” Tristan’s self-satisfied expression didn’t go unnoticed by Erin. She said she’d see him later and turned back to business.

Tristan left the office. Erin offered Jeff a wide grin. “Tristan’s makes a good point. You read the contract before this meeting, but I’ll offer you an extra twenty-five percent on your sales figures, which is unheard of in this industry. Should the sales be as phenomenal as I believe they will be, you stand to walk away with a large profit, more offers to exhibit, and possibly an invitation for an overseas show. I have a friend in Spain who would surely be interested in your style.” Erin watched the smile on Jeff’s face widen. “Does this mean you’ll allow me to host your opening?”

“If you’re sure the art will be safe and that you’ll talk to your Spanish friend about exhibiting there, we have a deal,” he said and reached out to shake her hand.

An hour later they’d worked out the plans. With the date set, Erin showed Jeff where his art would be displayed. His expression told her more than words as she caught the excited gleam in his eyes and the flush on his face.

“This is perfect, Erin. Will Cam be here for my show?” Jeff asked.

“She’s taking some time off. I’ll have to discuss it with her when she returns to work.”

“I hope she’ll be here... She’s super,” he said.

“I hear that a lot,” Erin said with a chuckle and dreaded the upcoming revelation that she was Cam.

So the contract was signed and the show would go on. She smiled.

But had she done it herself? No. She had to acknowledge that Tristan made the deal by using his charm. Man to man often worked better in a difficult business deal, apparently.

If she hadn’t had his help, Erin knew she’d have had to work hard to win Jeff over.

*  *  *

His phone rang as he drove through Greenwich. “Any news?” Tristan asked.

“None you’ll be happy to hear. Cam Boucher doesn’t exist. Never has. So, there’s no relationship between them. I think someone’s been having you on.” The Scottish burr was as prevalent as Tristan’s own, his laughter deeper.

“Och, McNeill, it’s no more than I surmised. The lovely Erin Cameron is an actress, but the question is why?” As he listened, Tristan drove to the hotel, left his car and took an elevator to his suite.

“Maybe she had a secret identity for work purposes, or maybe she’s a weirdo,” McNeill answered in a serious tone. “Who knows why women do what they do? Especially American women. Too independent for my liking.”

“I’m aware of your opinions about women. We aren’t in the stone age any longer, McNeill,” Tristan said with a laugh as he exited the elevator. “I’ll speak with Erin’s housekeeper again, see if I can charm her enough to get information on Cam from her. You dig into Erin’s life, I want to know everything, from where she went to kindergarten to how she learned to swim, understand? And, I want it today.”

“Christ, you don’t want much, McNeill groused. “I’ll get started right away.”

The line went dead. Tristan left the phone on the dresser. After he’d showered and changed, he called on Mrs. Hardy.

Wide-eyed, Mrs. Hardy opened the door. “Mr. Forsyth, I thought you’d be in New York.”

“I’ve come to ask you something. Could we chat for a few moments before I do head for New York?”

He watched her. Mrs. Hardy appeared unsure. “I won’t take long, I promise,” Tristan said with a disarming smile.

As she stepped back to allow Tristan into the foyer, he saw her glance past him. Aware of her nervousness, Tristan was positive he’d taken the right action. “Is Erin around?” he asked innocently.

“She’s at the gallery at the moment. How can I be of help, Mr. Forsyth?” Mrs. Hardy asked as she herded him into the kitchen.

He took a seat at the table. “Here, sit with me a bit. I’m wondering about Erin and Cam. They seem at odds with one another. It’s worrisome now that Cam has gone off the radar. When she didn’t answer her phone, I asked Erin about her and was told Cam has taken some time off. Do you know where Cam lives? I’d like to send her flowers.”

Her face paled. Mrs. Hardy’s hands shook. She withdrew them from the table and folded them out of sight in her lap. It was a sure bet, she was stymied for an answer. Tristan waited patiently until she suddenly threw her hands up and said, “Fine, fine, I’ll tell you. You must promise not to tell Erin.”

“Why not?” Tristan asked.

Mrs. Hardy shrugged and said, “Cam and Erin have come to blows. They’ll no longer be working together. Cam has left town and is in search of another job. Erin was furious over the robbery. They argued and Cam stormed out of the house, but not before she quit. I don’t know what Erin will do without Cam around to bear the brunt of the gallery workload.”

He leaned back against the chair. Though the story was compelling, Mrs. Hardy would need a less savvy person to believe it. He’d done his research and knew the real story.

“Mrs. Hardy, let’s be honest. First off, you and I know Cam doesn’t really exist. She’s Erin in disguise. Why, I bet if I looked in Erin’s closet, I’d find a whole ensemble that belongs to Cam. Am I right?” he asked bluntly and counted the reasons with his fingers. “Second, no two people have the same handshake, the same shape of teeth or lips, they don’t kiss the same and third, no matter how hard she tries, I can hear Erin’s husky voice when Cam speaks. What surprises me is the fact that no one else she deals with has ever made the connection between the two personalities.”

“Don’t be silly!”
Mrs. Hardy exclaimed, clearly flustered.

“I’m far from silly, Mrs. Hardy. I’m dismayed over this sham. An honest offer for the gallery has been put forth, which included Cam running it any way she saw fit. Now I’ve become aware that Cam Boucher never existed, not on this planet, anyway. What do you say to that?”

Mrs. Hardy gasped, drew in a breath and gave in. “You’ve really figured it out.”

“Erin needs to own up and handle the gallery, not hide behind a false façade,” Tristan declared.

“I can’t explain it. Her father died. During the time afterward Erin became a recluse. It was a struggle for her to go out in public as herself. I’d say that went on for nearly a year,” Mrs. Hardy murmured with a touch of sadness. “This morning she told me she planned to dump Cam’s disguise and confess her actions to the staff.”

“Erin seems to have recovered,” Tristan observed. “She’s operating the gallery, has sacked Cam, very interestingly from what you’ve said. She’s as confidant today as I’ve seen her since I arrived.”

Mrs. Hardy rose, put the kettle to boil and took two mugs from the cupboard. She brought them to the table and set one at each of their places.

Mrs. Hardy tapped her chin with two fingers. “After her father died, Erin used Cam as a way to keep track of the help, to better address their needs, while she, Erin took care of the gallery’s financial needs. I went along with it, though I advised time and again against continuing to pose as Cam. I thought it was unhealthy.” She sighed. “Lately, Cam’s character weighed Erin down to the point that she abandoned the disguise as soon as she entered the house.” Mrs. Hardy snickered lightly. “Once we even ate supper with the blond wig hanging on the chair post.”

“Death can bring about a variety of intense behaviors, but I must say, this is the first I’ve ever heard of this. Erin has definitely dropped Cam then?”

Mrs. Hardy nodded emphatically and poured hot water over tea bags. “She has. Why, just this morning she said Cam’s life was over and she felt relieved for having discarded her personality.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Hardy. For the tea and the information. I know this must have been difficult for you. I won’t share what you told me with Erin. I have someone looking into her life as we speak, so I’ll be able to use that information should she ask the
how did you find out
question.” Tristan laughed softly at Mrs. Hardy’s apparent relief.

“I’d appreciate that, Mr. Forsyth. Having been with the family for many years, I watched Erin grow up and go off to college. When she returned she was an adult, but underneath, she was the same sensitive, carefree spirit she’d always been. I care for her as I would a daughter of my own. If anything happened between us, I’d be very sad.”

Tristan rose from the chair, assured Mrs. Hardy her secret was safe and left for New York City.

T
HE DRIVE INTO
New York was horrid. Cars idled, bumper to bumper as rain slicked the roads. More than one accident had occurred, delaying Erin’s arrival. By the time she approached the parking lot at The Metropolitan Museum the rain had ceased. Erin drew into the parking space reserved for her, and quickly left the car.

“Where have you been, lovey? I’ve been a wreck,” Giorgio exclaimed as he stepped out from under the museum entrance and rushed toward her.

“Freakin’ drivers can’t handle a little rain. I thought I’d never get here,” Erin murmured in his ear when he kissed her cheek. She stepped back, gave him a good look and noted with a grin, “Giorgio, you do clean up nice. No wonder Jeremy adores you.”

“Let’s go in before we’re seriously late. Nearly everyone, who’s anyone, has arrived. Even the guest of honor is here. You should see the looker he has on his arm tonight,” Giorgio remarked.

“Really? She’s that gorgeous?”

“Uh-huh. Come on.” Giorgio slipped her hand into the crook of his arm and walked through the entrance of The Metropolitan Museum.

The who’s-who crowd was scattered throughout the humungous room. Drinks made the rounds, followed by hors d’oeuvres on trays served by wait staff in smart-looking suits. Erin smiled.
You
gotta love New York.

A few heads turned as they walked in, likely the last couple to arrive. Erin caught several people whispering to one another after she’d nodded in their direction. Whether the whispers concerned her, her dress, or the art theft, Erin held her head high and smiled. Walking the walk and talking the talk had been ingrained in her. She’d learned those lessons well.

Giorgio murmured, “He’s over there. What a gorgeous hunk of man. Mm, mm, I’d like a piece of him myself.”

Laughter bubbled up as she listened to her date make his sotto voce remarks concerning the man she’d also like to have in her bed. She grinned and pinched his hand. “Enough. Someone will hear you and our act will be over.”

Erin, with a glass of wine in hand, was about to turn when she heard, “Having a good time, Erin?” She could feel his warm breath on her neck and knew Tristan was behind her. She turned, caught his eyes focused on her cleavage and smiled mischievously.

“Why, yes, it’s a lovely gathering. Giorgio and I just arrived.”

“Indeed. I saw you. A rather grand late entrance, wasn’t it?” Tristan remarked with a sly expression.

“Traffic was hell, I got stuck on the interstate until an accident was cleared,” Erin explained. She stopped when she saw the glint of humor in his eyes. Why was she making excuses to him? Her smile tightened as she watched Tristan take in her appearance with a long, drawn out look.

“You’re quite beautiful tonight,” he said and nodded to Giorgio. “You’re certainly lucky to have such a lovely woman at your side.”

“She is gorgeous, isn’t she?” Giorgio responded in a truly masculine tone.

“Yes, very,” Tristan acknowledged as his own date stepped forward.

“I think the speaker is ready to announce you, Tristan,” the lovely creature said and urged him away from them and toward the podium.

“Did you see her? She’s stunning,” Giorgio stated. “If you’re unwilling to model for Herve`’s show, I’ll ask her to do it. Do you think she would?”

“How would I know?” Erin grumbled. “Ask her. I’m fine with not having to make a spectacle of myself.”

Erin glanced over and grimaced when she saw the gleam in Giorgio’s eyes.

“Darling, you’re in a snit over a woman you don’t even know and a man you want badly. You need to jump his bones, sweetie – and soon,” Giorgio advised.

Erin giggled. “You’re right.”

The crowd clustered closer together, drinks and snacks discarded for the moment. All attention was directed at the delicious man at the podium. Tristan Forsyth had been introduced as the owner and buyer of the most elite, privately owned galleries in Europe. A round of applause filtered through the room as cameras clicked.

His smile warmed as he stood in front of them all. He stepped to the microphone and said with a heavy Scottish accent, “Thank you all for such a wonderful welcome. It’s great to be in America, especially in New York, with all of you. As you know, I search for galleries worthy of the world’s attention. While here in the States, I’ve come across one such gallery.”

When he hesitated, Erin scanned the crowd. Oh yeah, he had them glued in place, awaiting his next words. She smirked and looked straight into his eyes.