Chapter Twenty-One
As soon as Grace deplaned at JFK airport, she checked her phone. One message. Her heart skipped, hoping— No. Stop it, Grace. You don’t want it to be them. It was Mr. Wilds, after only one day. Was such a quick turnaround good or bad? She squeezed her stomach and braced for the information.
“Good news, Ms. Harper. I met with your attorney today. The appraisal is in-line with your estimate, even the Seated Liberty. It’s the only coin you have from the Carson City Mint, which by itself would up its value because, as you may know, it was only in operation for twenty years. But 1873 is also the most difficult year to find. I can give you the details when we speak. You mentioned you might be interested in selling. Well, I have someone who might be interested in buying. Call me back when you have a moment to talk.”
The estimate was accurate? That meant her father had recently gone through the list and researched what each piece might be worth. Like he knew she’d be finding it soon. Why had he left this for her? It still made no sense.
Grace glanced at her watch. Just past six in Reno. She’d call Mr. Wilds tomorrow. But Mr. Lincoln always worked late, and she still needed to get in touch with him. She dialed his number as she walked through the airport terminal.
“Grace, I was planning to call you tomorrow,” Mr. Lincoln said when his receptionist patched her through. “Good news on the coins.”
“Yes, I heard. Thanks so much for your help.”
“Anytime, you know that, dear. Are you ready to come by and get that guardianship paperwork done?”
“Actually, there’s been a slight change of plans.”
“Oh?”
“Noah and I have discussed it.” She took a deep breath. “We’d like to share custody.”
“Are you both certain? This isn’t something to be taken lightly.” His tone bordered on lecture. “This is a lifelong commitment on both your parts.”
She’d expected this response and wasn’t offended. Mr. Lincoln was a friend and borderline father figure as much as an attorney. “Yes, we’re certain,” she responded without qualms, without doubt.
“Well, that’s unexpected…and very good to hear.”
She could almost hear his smile through the phone.
“I know Noah thinks the world of JJ,” he continued. “The boy needs a strong support system. It’s good you’re both committed to him. I’ll draw up the paperwork this week. Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” She braced herself for the Cupid question she knew was coming.
“Noah will be, uh, staying on at the ranch with you and JJ, then?”
The arrow still hurt, more than she thought it would. She sank down into a random departure gate seat. “Noah’s staying, but I’m not. In fact, I’ve just landed in New York.”
“I see.” He managed to infuse those two little words with a sermon full of disappointment.
“It’s really for the best,” she rushed. “But like you said, we’re both committed to JJ.”
“Of course, you are.”
“There’s another matter I’d like your help with. I believe my father meant to leave his coin collection to Noah. Could you help me get this settled? Mr. Wilds thinks he has a buyer already.”
“Of course, I’ll help, but it sounds like you have everything taken care of.”
Her throat tightened. “I tried.” The hole in her heart sucked at her soul like a vortex.
The old man sighed. “I know you did, dear.”
She hung up the phone, lecturing herself. She’d made her choice. She had to move on—to her life in New York.
Spencer was waiting for Grace in his BMW at Passenger Pick-up. It was a thoughtful gesture to come get her. She’d told him over the phone everything that had happened and what she’d decided. He didn’t pepper her with questions, not then and not now, though she knew he wanted to. She laid her head back on the plush leather headrest, gathering her courage to ask him for something she’d vowed never to ask. But if she was going to bet on herself, she had to trust her instincts. Her instincts told her she could trust Spencer.
“I want to start my own business.”
“It’s about damn time.” A grin spread across his face. “That country air did you some good.”
“It’d be a partnership with Ricky Alvaro. I think you’ve met him. He used to work for Simon.”
“Sure, I know Ricky. He’s a good guy.” He glanced at Grace. “But you’ll still need a proper partnership agreement. I’ll help you with it.”
Grace smiled. “Good. I was also wondering…” Just say it, Grace. “I was wondering if you’d consider giving me a loan.”
“Whoa. What happened to you back there?”
“Is that a no?” She felt her cheeks warm. This was a bad idea. She was stupid, stupid, stupid for considering it.
“Of course not. I’ll give you as much as you need, you know that. It’s just that you’ve always refused to talk about striking out on your own and always gotten pissed at me when I’ve offered money.”
“I’m not taking your money. I’m borrowing it.” She wasn’t a moocher. “I want a real loan. With a signed agreement.” She may have decided she didn’t need Simon, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t need help. And if she was going to ask for assistance, it would be on her own terms.
His lips twitched. “Fine. Shall we go back to my place to celebrate?”
She sucked in a breath, wishing she could say yes. She had to move on with her life in all areas. Could this mean being more than friends with Spencer someday? Maybe. But not anytime soon. She was totally worn out after traveling all day, and her restless stomach felt like it was juggling nails from thinking about the art show.
Who was she kidding? It was more than the traveling and the art show. She couldn’t get Noah out of her mind for five minutes, let alone an entire evening. And truth was, she didn’t want to, not yet. And not just Noah. What was JJ up to? And how were Hannah and Kiddo doing? Had all the chores gotten done? Had Socks come back today? She wanted to call and check, but she couldn’t. They all needed space. She needed to move on. That wasn’t her life.
“I’m sorry, Spence—”
“No worries, babe.” He cut her off and squeezed her knee before she could get out her entire rejection. “It’s all good. We’ll celebrate after the show on Friday.”
The nails jabbed her stomach lining, and Noah’s face flashed in her mind. She pushed it out and forced a smile. “You bet.”
…
Friday came too soon. Grace had called in every favor she could to get the prints framed in colors coordinated for each storyline. White-washed aqua for the tranquility and naturalness of Kiddo’s birth; rusts and fiery orange for the fierce power of the wild horses; a sprinkle of royal blue or muted yellow for the related but separate snapshots and drawings. They looked amazing. Now all she needed was a name.
Western Life. Too boring.
Life on a Ranch. Too country.
Call of the Wild. Too taken.
She squeezed her eyes shut. How would she describe the ranch, the wild horse, the wide-open space? Wide open. Fit for a cowboy, not that you needed to be one to fit into Reno. Think, Grace. An image of JJ poking at his chest filled her mind, wearing his cowboy hat, just like Noah.
No Cowboy Required. Perfect.
She called up one last favor—a friend who managed the copy shop down the street from her apartment—and got a commitment for several vinyl banners to be delivered to the club later that afternoon.
Grace was hanging up the last of the prints next to her and JJ’s bio when Noah’s text came through. Good luck tonight. Love JJ & Noah. She quickly typed in thanks. Should she sign it Gracie or Love Gracie? People signed with “love” all the time and didn’t mean it as an endearing pledge. She stared at the screen. She’d coordinated an entire art show and was now stressing over one simple text. Her fingers hovered over the keys. What the heck was wrong with her?
Spencer waltzed through the club’s front doors, her vinyl banners rolled up in his arms. Grace pressed send without signing and shoved the phone in her back pocket.
“I caught the delivery boy outside,” he said, indicating the banners.
“Is he still here? I haven’t paid yet.” Grace started for the door.
Spencer grabbed her forearm. “Relax. I took care of it. Besides, you’re doing me a favor. Art people love to drink. Everybody knows that.” He winked, then looked her up and down. “You look hot in that dress.”
She leaned in for a quick hug. The smell of his signature cologne that she loved, a light musk with a tinge of citrus, enveloped her. It was nothing like Noah’s fresh-soap smell. “Thanks. The club looks fabulous. You’ve outdone yourself.”
“Walk me through your exhibit.” He stepped back and let her lead him past the storyboards. She shared the backstory with him as they walked—their excitement at Kiddo’s birth, Socks’s loneliness as an outcast, the electricity in the air when the horses fought.
When they finished, he took her hand in his and lifted it. “Sounds like that wide-open ranch of yours has a lot of heart.” He winked, then brushed his lips against her knuckles. “You’re a shoo-in for that grant.”
“Are the New Day folks coming?”
“They RSVP’d. So did the curators or art directors from every art gallery invited.”
Her stomach jiggled. “Really?”
“You sell yourself short. The work you’ve done under Simon hasn’t gone unnoticed.”
She gave him another hug. She couldn’t have done any of this without him. She’d needed his support, and he’d come through. Bad-boy reputation aside, Spencer was a good guy.
He checked his Rolex. “Let’s get these up.” He handed her a banner. “It’s almost show time.”
The evening flew by, but by nine o’clock, she had yet to see someone from New Day. Despite being totally overwhelmed with his packed club, Spencer made a point of personally introducing her to every potential art collector—a.k.a. wealthy patrons. Was Spence always this thoughtful? Maybe she’d been so wrapped up in her career she’d never noticed. She took a sip of her Chardonnay.
Someone tapped her right shoulder. “Grace Harper?”
Grace whirled around to face a tall man with graying hair. “Yes?”
“I’m Marty Allman.” He held out his hand. “From New Day Society.” They shook. “Your work is amazing.”
“Thank you, Mr. Allman.”
“Call me Marty. I’m glad Spencer included us tonight.”
“I’m glad you came.”
“The way the drawings and the photos come together and share a story,” Mr. Allman started. “Where did the inspiration for this come from?”
“My stepbrother. JJ drew the sketches, from memory. Once I developed my shots and saw how they worked together, it seemed like a natural fit to put the two mediums together.”
“I’d like to meet JJ.” He looked around. “Is he here?”
“Unfortunately not. He’s back in Reno. He’s ten.”
“Yes, I read that on the bio, and about his autism. What you both have done here is amazing. I’d like to recommend your exhibit to our board for our grant, with your permission, of course.”
“Really? Yes, I-I mean, yes, we’d be honored.”
“Of course, nothing can be confirmed until they approve,” Mr. Allman said. “But I think we’ve found this year’s grant recipients with you and your brother.” He flashed a sincere smile, not the typical steely New York type, and handed her his card. “Give me a call first thing next week, and we’ll set up a time for you to come and meet our board.”
She did a jig in place as she watched Mr. Allman walk away. She couldn’t wait to tell JJ. They’d done it! Her instincts had been right. She glanced toward Spencer, holding court with a few suits. He saw her looking and raised his glass to her.
Dear Lord, he looked dapper tonight. And sexy. She sipped her wine. Broad shoulders, confident stance, smooth moves. He was definitely in his zone amongst the movers and shakers of the city. Noah would be totally out of his element here. This wasn’t his world. But it was hers now. Spencer fit in that world. And they’d be good together. She started toward him, determined to convince her heart to follow her brain. A palm on her shoulder stopped her.
“Fabulous exhibit, fabulous opening, fabulous food. The entire evening.” Simon grabbed her free hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss. “Utterly fabulous.”
Grace smiled and squashed the urge to drive her knuckles into his nose. The Big City was small when it came to bridge burning.
“I need you back, darling.”
Grace extricated her hand gently but firmly. “You fired me.”
“A mistake. A huge one.” He drank his red wine, slowly scanned the roomful of everyone who was anyone, and then glanced at her exhibit. “Marvelous work, dear. I must say, I’m impressed.” It sounded like envy coating his words more than pride. “You must come back. Name your price.”
Two weeks ago—maybe even two days ago—she would’ve been thrilled to hear Simon begging her to come back. Now the words seemed hollow. “Name my price?”
“Yes, dear, name it. We make a fabulous team.”
Even double her salary would no doubt be cheaper for him than a new competitor. Grace raised a brow. “Team? Then you’re asking me to come back as an equal, a partner, and not an employee?”
Simon cleared his throat, then adjusted his tie. “Well, yes, we could talk of that after things have settled down. And you’re focused. You’re finished with all of that family stuff, I assume?”
Finished? Her neck hairs prickled. “That family stuff is my brother. I don’t see how I’d ever be finished with him.”
“Yes, yes. That’s what I meant, of course.”
Grace stepped back. “Listen, Simon. I appreciate the offer, I truly do. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me and taught me.” She paused, expecting a rush of panic, the feeling that always warned her when she was doing something she might regret. It never came. “I wish you the best in your future. But that future isn’t with me.”
“I won’t ask again, dear.” He raised his glass of wine.
She clicked his glass with hers. “I know.”
…
Grace followed Spencer out of the elevator and into his penthouse. “You should’ve seen his face. Poor Simon.” She giggled.
“I did, but I wish I’d been closer.” Spencer put the key in the door with one hand and with the other snagged Grace around the wrist and pulled her to him. “You did great tonight. Your exhibit was the hit of my opening, the highlight of the evening. It totally overshadowed me, and I loved it.”
Grace threw her head back and laughed. “No, your opening was off the charts. Your club is going to be the place to go for the next decade.”
The door swung open, and Spencer lifted her over the threshold and carried her in.
“You’re crazy. Put me down!”
He set her down but didn’t let her go. Then he swooped in and kissed her.
She instinctively pushed away, confusion clouding her thoughts. This was all wrong. She hadn’t even called Noah or JJ to tell them the good news.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She took a large gulp of air. “I mean, I don’t know. Everything.” She dug in her purse for her cell. “I have to make a phone call.”
“Now? To who?”
Images of Noah and JJ and the animals crowded her brain and bumped against her skull, pounding, pounding, pounding. She stared at Spencer, wracking her brain for the right words, aching to feel something more for him. Not wanting to add him to her list of those she hurt.
“We have a lot of fun together, Spencer. And you know I think the world of you. And I’m so thankful for your help tonight, but…” She pressed her lips together. “Us. I can’t.”
Disappointment swept across his face, covered swiftly by acceptance. He reached out and caressed her cheek, nodding, his eyes telling her he understood and that he wasn’t offended.
“You’re a gorgeous woman, Grace.” He cleared his throat and stepped back, dropping his hand. “But I make it my business to never mix pleasure with business. And given the loan I’ve committed to…” His voice trailed off. There was no condescension, no bitterness. His tone didn’t say “never,” but rather “not now, maybe later.” So Spencer-esque.
“I’ll call you a cab, honey.” He gave her one of those wish-things-were-different half smiles. “It’s time to get you home.”