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Authors: Kathi S Barton

BOOK: Devin-2
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“Tell me where they are seated and I’ll go find him for you. I don’t know if I’m such a good choice to send to find him, especially if Mr. Grant is still there, but for you, I will try.”

He did not say anything for long moments. She thought he was going to tell her not to do it. But even if he did, she would do it for him. Austin and Ben had saved her life and if this was the only thing he asked of her, she would do it.

“They are in the front about six tables to our right. I don’t know what he looks like, but I do know that he is young, around thirty, I suppose. Ronnie, don’t do this. I’m an ass for even asking you to. Let’s go home to Ben.” She stood up and smoothed her dress down her hips and smiled. “I’ve never been dressed up before around him. Maybe he won’t know who I am. I’ll be right back.”

Taking a deep breath, she turned and headed to the table, hoping that no one would know who she was.

~CHAPTER 10~

Byron watched the woman come toward them again. So far, she had turned back three times before giving herself what looked like a stern talking to and started back again. He was not sure why he thought she was headed for their table, but he knew in his gut she was. He was suddenly very glad his date for the night had left for the ladies room. He did not have to feel guilty ogling this vision before him.

As soon as she was within a couple of feet of the table, he stood. His mother had taught them all manners and this was one time he was very glad of his.

From his vantage point, he was getting a very delicious view of the most beautiful breasts he had ever seen. He heard other chairs scrape across the floor and knew that his brothers had seen her too.

“Hello, Ms. Frey. You look very lovely this evening. I don’t believe I’ve seen a more beautiful dress tonight.” Byron looked at his mother and nearly swallowed his tongue. This was Devin’s waitress!

“Thank you, Mrs. Parker. I’m here to see if I could talk to Mr. Byron Grant about a friend of mine, please.” She looked at first him, then Damon, and then back at their mother.

“He doesn’t need a date; he has one. But I guess that wouldn’t bother you either, would it, Veronica?” Byron watched as she stiffened and paled. Devin might well have hit her for the pain he had apparently caused her by his words.

“Devin Kyle Grant! You’ll apologize to her this instant. How dare you speak to someone like that in front of me?”

“I’m sor...it’s all right. I...this was a mistake. Forgive me for intruding on your evening, Mrs. Parker.” With a quick nod, she turned and left, but headed in the opposite direction she had come from.

Byron sat down with his brothers and waited until his date returned before speaking. He had never been so shocked and angry in his life. It mattered little what she had done to Devin, if anything, but to be spoken to like that in front of strangers was beyond rude. When Alison returned, he told her he needed to speak to someone. He looked at Devin as he stood.

“You are a prick and an asshole, Devin. I never thought I’d say this to one of my brothers before, but I have never been more ashamed of you in my entire life.

Mom, I’ll be back.”

He heard his mom saying something to Devin, but he didn’t care. He made his way to the ladies room, where he figured Ronnie had gone.

It was perhaps five minutes before she emerged, and he felt horrible for her all over. Her eyes were puffy and her nose a little red, but she still looked stunning. When she saw him, she looked around, panicky.

“I’m Byron Grant and I’m alone. I left the ass at the table to be dealt with by Mom. I would like to apologize to you on behalf of my family. We are going to have Devin committed when we get home. We don’t let him out much, for obvious reasons.”

She smiled gently at him and he felt his heart break. This poor woman looked like someone had just run over her favorite toy and then laughed at her tears. But her smile was breathtaking and he decided he would love to see it more.

“You should go back, Mr. Grant. I’m sure my friend will understand. He is well aware of my ongoing issues with your brother. I should have known that he was still pissed. I don’t even know what I did to make him hate me so much. ”

“I’m not going back until I help you out. It’s the least I can do for what...you know, for right now, I don’t have a brother. Tell me what you need. Please, Ms.

Frey, it would be my pleasure.”

He could see her struggle with her indecision. He liked her all the more for not wanting to come between families. But, finally, she just blurted out what had sent her to their table, or at least who.

“I have a friend who would like to meet you. He has been your greatest fan for years and has quite a few pieces of your work. He had heard you were going to be here tonight and has come out of seclusion to be here. He just wants to shake your hand and talk to you. It shouldn’t take long, if you’re sure.”

“Of course, I would love to meet him. I’m always excited to meet a fan. I stay so far removed sometimes trying to hit deadlines that I seldom get to see people anymore.” She started back the way she had come and he made sure he was on her left so that she would not have to look at the table where his family was currently berating Devin.

“Yes, he has the same problems. But he is working less these days and is enjoying himself. But I think he is starting to miss it a little and I expect to see him at it again soon.”

Byron looked up at the table she had indicated with a wave of her arm. He stood stock still and looked at the man at the table who was starting to rise from his seat. Christ, his idol!

“You’re Austin Pride! Holy shit! Austin Pride. When she said someone wanted to...holy shit, it’s you! Austin Pride wants to meet me.”

“Well, I guess you two know each other,” Ronnie said with laughter in her voice. She was smiling again and Byron smiled back.

Byron could not help himself; he grabbed Ronnie by her shoulders and pulled her to him for a kiss. He was so happy that he did not notice her look of shock and her obvious embarrassment. Austin Pride wanted to meet him.

“I’ve been following your work since your first show. You were an incredible artist then, but you have improved greatly in the ensuing years. I’ve wanted to meet you for years,” Austin told him.

Ronnie sat down to Austin’s left and when he looked at her, she shook her head. Byron knew then that she had only come to their table because this man had asked her to. Then he remembered some of the things Devin had been saying today and realized that he did not know what the hell he was talking about. He knew enough about the sensitive nature of this man’s relationship with the art world and why he had dropped out of sight for so long.

“My brother is an ass, Mr. Pride, and I fear he hurt Ms. Frey very badly when she came to get me. I would like to say that I’m sorry. And he will be too when we get home tonight.”

“Don’t, Mr. Grant. Please don’t. He’ll think what he wants no matter what you say to him. It doesn’t matter anyway. I’ll know Monday if I passed the exam to test out of the class I’m taking, then I’ll be finished with school. I no longer have any need of an internship and will be out of his hair soon enough. Then I’ll take my bar exam later next month so I’ll just have to wait and see. So, you see, I’m not worth you being mad at him over. But I do thank you for your concern.” Ronnie hurried with her statement, but Byron could hear the hurt in her voice.

Byron wondered if Devin knew this and decided he would not tell him. He deserved to lose out on her. Hell, maybe he would ask her out. But he knew that she would turn him down. Even he could see that she loved Devin, the ass.

“I have something I’d like to donate before it gets too much later—a painting that I did several years ago. I know that I should have contacted someone sooner, but I didn’t know of the reception I would receive if I did. Would you like to see it first?” Austin told Byron as he waved one of the servers over to help.

“Yes, of course.” Byron knew that even if his mother did not want to put it up because the list had already been made, he would buy it and donate the money. He had quite a few Pride paintings and was always ready to add more to his collection.

Ronnie helped the server pick up the wrapped package and peeled the tape off the back and gently pulled it off the front to reveal the painting beneath.

Byron leaned forward and then looked at Austin. He nearly said something and stopped by the quick shake of the older man’s head. He looked back at the painting and knew that he was going to purchase it. And it mattered little to him what it would cost. It was simply beautiful—as beautiful as the subject matter was.

“Ronnie, love, do you think you could get me a glass of wine? And please get Mr. Grant here one as well. You know how men are when they need to grunt over a piece of art or a feetball game?”

“Yes, and its football, not feet. I’ll be back. Will thirty minutes be long enough for you to talk about the painting?” She stood and kissed Austin on his cheek. When she darted a quick glance at the direction of his table, Byron wanted to go and pound Devin again.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Byron asked, “It’s her, isn’t it? And she doesn’t know it.”

“Yes, it’s Ronnie when she turned twelve. She sees the same thing you do, a very beautiful child in a field of heather. The only difference is, you see the little girl I painted and she doesn’t.”

“Have you told her? No, I can see that you haven’t. And even if you did, she wouldn’t believe you. Are there anymore of her?”

“You are a very clever man. Yes, there are two more. One I will never part with and the other is still wet, and I haven’t decided the fate of that one yet. The first one I painted of her, she was about nine or so. It’s my favorite piece I’ve ever done. She is sitting in a large chair that we have since gotten rid of reading Sun Tzu on The Art of War and understanding it. Ben, my partner, decided she was much too smart for the crap they had been reading in class and took her to the library. She came home with that and several others, including Lady Chatterley’s Lover that he had bought in a used bookstore on the way home. I believe she may still have that copy somewhere.”

Byron laughed with him and looked back at the painting. He wanted it now more than before. The story with this one had to be just as entertaining and he could not wait to hear it.

“And this one? Why a field of heather?” Byron was already thinking where to put it when he got it home.

Austin looked lovingly at the painting and told him why. “Ronnie came from an abusive childhood. If you don’t know that already, then I’m sure you’ll hear about it. I’m not sure of all the details, but for the most part, she ran away when she was just a child. I found her one night sleeping behind a dumpster having a nightmare. She had been eight at the time and nearly starved and frozen cold. I brought her home with me and Ben and I cleaned her up. The scars that child had would make you cry, and not just from the physical abuse either.

It took us nearly six months to get her to trust us even slightly. And longer still to get her to tell us her name. We never formally adopted her, not that we could back then. We just told people she was our sister’s child and we were caring for her. Then when she was twelve, a man showed up out of nowhere and demanded his daughter back. Of course, we knew it was her father; she had told us enough about him that we knew it had to be him. We denied knowing Ronnie. I can’t remember now what he called her, but it wasn’t what she had told us. After he left, we went in search of her. She was in the park, lying just how you see her in a bed of heather. When Ben asked her why she had hidden there, she said that if she was going to die this time by his hand, she wanted to be able to smell the pretty flowers while she died. It broke our hearts. Our relationship changed after that. She became our child then. I think it was because she believed then that we would not give her up. I love that child as though she was of my blood, and so does my Ben.”

In the end, Austin gave the painting to Byron. They had shared more than a budding friendship over a charity dinner, and both men were better for it. They both loved the child that had grown into a lovely woman as well. Byron also knew that he would not help Devin win the girl’s love, but would be there if he needed him.

Ronnie showed up a few minutes later with two glasses of wine. Byron stayed for a few minutes more, and then went back to his table with the painting.

The men had exchanged numbers and addresses and Byron was happy that he had followed Ronnie to the ladies room.

After making arrangements to have the painting put into his car, he went back to his table a much happier man. Of course, he was also poorer. He wrote his mother a check for the painting and told her he would explain later. Yes, he was much happier, he decided.

~~~

Devin went home right after the dinner. He had made an ass of himself and as much as he wanted to blame Ronnie, he knew that he could not. He had been cruel to her and he had done so publicly. His mother was really mad at him and he was sure one or all of his brothers wanted to knock the shit out of him. Except for Byron, who had been unnaturally quiet when he came back to the table and had not stopped smiling. He wanted to call Ronnie and tell her he was sorry, but he still could not help but think about the other men in her life, and he was also afraid his brother was becoming one of her lovers.

By Sunday afternoon after spending two miserable days by himself, Devin had come to the decision that he would not go near Ronnie again. If she wanted to call him Mr. Grant, then so be it. He would give her the case files he needed, make sure she knew when she was to appear in court with him, and not worry if she did not show up. He was going to move on. He was not going to look at her, not going to want her, and he certainly was not going to touch her.

On Monday morning, that all went to shit as soon as he saw her walking into her office.

Devin hid out in his office until nearly noon when he was sure she was gone.

Then felt stupid because he had. His name was on the door, for crying out loud, and he should be able to go where he wanted when he wanted. Caroline met him at her desk as he was going to lunch.

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