Go? I’m not going anywhere until the deal is done. But a quick glance at my watch shows that it is late, and Grace is yawning widely. I bet she’ll be asleep in the car before we’re out of the driveway.
Elena leads us to a large library where a poster-sized canvas portrait of a much younger version of her likeness hangs on the wall. It’s surrounded by simply framed sketches, clearly precursors to the final creation. “See? An old man’s doodles.”
Thankfully, she’s fully dressed in the painting. However, I will admit that Elena was a good-looking woman in her youth.
Luna nearly has her nose pressed to the glass of the sketches. “You can see the eraser marks and sketch lines.” She looks back at us excitedly, and I can imagine her saying ‘are you seeing this?’ but she whirls back around, moving to the next one. “Did he always sketch this many versions before beginning on the canvas? Or only for special subjects?”
“Just for me. When he did other work, he would dive straight in, sometimes not even knowing what it was gonna be. He used to tell me he’d work on it until it felt done.” She smiles at the portrait, almost laughing at her image. “But me? He’d have me sit and pose. We’d talk while he sketched. I think that was his trick to spend time with me, but whoo, I always felt like such a silly goose sitting there like a statue while he studied my every flaw.”
“He didn’t see flaws,” Luna corrects wisely. “He saw the woman he loved.”
I hear Elena’s swallow of emotion as she takes Luna’s hands, patting them gently. “Thank you, honey. That’s sweet of you to say.”
A soft snore from behind us gets everyone’s attention. Grace has curled up in one of the chairs, her head resting on the arm and her eyes closed. It tugs at my heart. She looks so innocent and sweet when she’s asleep. Nothing like the wild child she can be in her waking hours.
“Looks like she’s arted out,” Luna whispers. “I suppose she’s got to build her art muscles some more.”
“It’s so late. Y’all should stay here in the guest rooms and do the long drive back tomorrow when you’re fresh,” Elena suggests. “Your pup will be fine staying the night too. We’ve got plenty of chicken around, maybe some hamburgers that can be cooked up.”
“Oh, we couldn’t impose like that,” I tell her, but I’m disappointed that I’m not leaving with a handshake agreement on her portfolio management. “We don’t have an overnight bag or anything, and Grace can sleep on the way back.”
“It’s no bother. It’ll do this old house some good to have a little life in it for the night. It’s usually just me and the staff. And I’ve got everything you could need. Thomas bought monogrammed Tshirts and sweatpants for the guest rooms, and the bathrooms are fully stocked.” She’s thought of everything, but then she really puts the cherry on top of her offer. “In the morning, after breakfast, we can look at more of Thomas’s collection and maybe talk a bit more business, too.”
She flashes a wink, knowing she’s got both of us by the short hairs. I don’t look at Luna because I don’t want to give her a chance to say no. Instead, I nod graciously, accepting her offer. “We’d be delighted. That’s really kind of you.”
When Elena steps over to a desk phone to place a call, Luna steps in front of me, giving her back to Elena, and though her eyes are wide and angry, her voice is barely above a whisper. “What the hella-rama-ding-dong?”
“I couldn’t refuse. She’s willing to talk business in the morning. And more art,” I remind her, hoping she doesn’t walk out the front door and ditch me.
“Elena?”
I jerk in surprise and realize a tall, thin man in pajamas and a robe has appeared silently in the doorway.
Well, shit. I guess for all Mrs. Cartwright’s sweet talk of her deceased husband, she has a new special friend.
“Oh, I am so sorry for bothering you, Stanley. Why didn’t you say you were already lying down? I could’ve gotten them set up for the night myself,” she fusses. Okay, so I was wrong. He’s not her boyfriend but rather another member of the house staff.
“I wasn’t asleep yet.” He smiles, but his bloodshot eyes give away that he was definitely long gone to Snoozeville. “I’m happy to show them to the guest rooms.”
Elena clucks. “This is Stanley. Stanley, this is Carter and Luna, and that little cherub over there is their niece, Grace. Bernard has their dog, Peanut Butter, out in the barn too.”
I’m not used to shaking hands with men in their pajamas, but in this case, I’ll definitely make an exception. I hold my hand out, and he looks at it in surprise but takes it slowly. His grip is stronger than I expected. “Nice to meet you, Carter.”
“I don’t know how he keeps this place running, but he’s been doing it for decades at this point. I couldn’t do much of anything without Stanley,” Elena gushes.
Elena bids us good night, promising that Grace will get chocolate chip pancakes in the morning, and with Stanley’s help, we manage to get Grace and Peanut Butter into a guest room. Grace is remarkably easy to coerce into bed despite it usually being a three-ring circus to get her to lie down at night. But one mention of pancakes in the morning and a reassurance that we’re right down the hall make her snuggle in with the dog, both of whom close their eyes quickly, though I don’t think Stanley is particularly excited about having a dog and a child in one of the luxury linen-covered beds.
Stanley then shows us to our room, pointing out the king-size bed, dresser full of clothing, and doorway to the bathroom. “If you need anything, pick up the phone and dial six-two-six. It’s my direct line and I always answer. If that’s all?”
“Thank you so much,” Luna says kindly. “We’ll let you get back to bed.”
Stanley still looks at me for confirmation, and when I nod, he closes the door behind him. Alone, I sigh in relief. The sound seems to set Luna off because she starts pacing around the room, muttering under her breath. “This is such a mess, all because Zack said he’d buy me books. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I could’ve stayed home, in sweats, and worked on Alphena, but noooo, I got greedy. And now look where I am. Alone with Carter freaking Harrington, as his wife. Like that’s remotely believable.”
At first, I’m amused by her useless rambling and pacing and the way she’s nearly vibrating with emotional energy. But then I hear what she’s saying. I take her arms, stopping her steps, and say firmly, “Luna. Stop. Look at me.”
A soft gasp escapes her lips as fiery eyes flash behind her glasses. She holds my gaze for a moment, and then, as her cheeks go rosy, she looks at my shoes.
“This is crazy, I know,” I admit. “But I couldn’t say no.”
To me, that’s obvious. The deal isn’t closed and I very much need it. It’s taken on a life of its own in my mind, a symbol of my success, a competition between me and Cameron that he doesn’t know is happening. But I do, and I’m going to win. And I’m already in this far. What’s a few more hours and breakfast?