Slow Burn (35 page)

“And Vaughn Doyle.”

He threw her an annoyed look. “For him, you
can be as late as you like or not show up at all.”

She’d be lying if she didn’t find his show of
jealously thrilling. “Why are you convinced he’s the one behind
this mess and not his father?”

“An apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. And
the old man is way too smart to use someone who leaves a trail.” He
led her to Nicole’s office. “I left some letters on my desk, Nikki.
Take care of them. And tell Satchel he can reach me on my
cell.”

“Have a safe trip, and say hello to the
Dra…your grandmother from us all,” Nicole added with a slight grin,
as though she were sharing a private joke with Ron.

Ron laughed as he led Ashley out of the room.
“Nikki doesn’t call my grandmother anything but the Dragon Lady.
Having you around curbed her tongue.”

“Maybe she’s just not comfortable enough
around me to be herself.” This time, Ashley was the one fighting
the green-eyed monster. Call it childish, but she didn’t want
anyone else sharing secrets with Ron. Before she could stop
herself, she found herself saying, “She’s a very beautiful
woman.”

“Who?”

“Nikki.”

He shrugged as they entered the private
elevator. “Yeah, she is, but I’m more interested in her brains.
She’s one hell of an assistant.”

Now that she’d started, Ashley couldn’t stop.
Her cousins always told her she was like a runaway train when she
was after something. Her eyes glued on the flashing buttons on the
elevator, she asked ever so casually, “You two ever dated?”

Ron laughed. “Hell no. I don’t date women who
work for me.” He tugged her hand to bring her gaze to him. “You
have no need to worry about other women, sweetheart.”

Sweet music to her ears, but for how long? “I
wasn’t worried, just curious.” Thoughts of other women and his past
were starting to sneak up on her. She couldn’t even explain why.
Add to that was the trip to Vegas and meeting his family. Would
Nina be there too?

***

In no time, they were parking outside the
museum.

“Hey, guys,” Ashley called out as she entered
the room with the murals.

Micah and Josh, both in dressy shirts and
jeans, turned to face her with beaming smiles. Ashley stopped to
admire a dozen paper-white, long stemmed roses in a delicate blue
vase on the paint-ridden, metal table.

“We thought you’d be a no show,” Micah said,
drawing her attention away from the roses and back to them.

Ashley chuckled. “Would I disappoint you guys
after I gave my word?” She looked at her watch. “Besides, we’re
fifteen minutes early.” She turned to introduce Ron, but the murals
held him spellbound.

“What do you think?” she asked, enjoying his
reaction.

“I had no idea they were this amazing. The
children will be too busy studying these murals to play or do
whatever kids do at a museum.”

“Then meet the two geniuses behind some of
the work.” After the introduction, they turned to leave for the
meeting upstairs.

“Oh, don’t forget the roses,” Josh said.
“They came for you this morning.”

Ashley walked to the table, picked up the
card and tore open the envelope. She read the card and dropped it
on the table.

“Who are they from?” Ron asked from behind
her.

“Vaughn. He hopes we can do lunch after the
meeting.”

“The conniving bastard,” Ron snarled and drew
the attention of her co-artists.

Ashley threw him a warning glance. “Let’s go
upstairs.”

“And the roses?” Ron asked in a deliberately
neutral tone.

She lifted the vase and dumped the flowers in
the trashcan. Ashley rolled her eyes when Ron flashed a satisfied
grin.

She headed for the stairs, and wasn’t
surprised when they all followed her instead of taking the
elevator. They all knew about her phobia. She now knew that being
locked in the secret room at Carlyle House was the source of her
terror of dark, small places. Once all her memories returned, she
hoped the problem would go away too.

When they arrived at the president’s office,
the president’s administrative assistant informed them that Vaughn
hadn’t arrived. Ashley turned to Ron. “You’re sure you don’t mind
waiting out here?”

“Not at all.” He picked up a magazine and
settled on a chair. “I’ll be right here when you come out.”

And when Vaughn arrived, which she didn’t
want to miss. She had a few choice questions for the man. Ashley
was about to ask the A.A. if they could see her boss when the door
of the president’s office opened and out stepped Nina Noble in a
yellow suit with her signature Pierre Cardin scarf draped around
her neck. Her assistant, Connie Wilkins, followed.

“Ah, Ms. Ashley,” the museum’s president said
from behind them. “We were just discussing your work.”

“I haven’t had the pleasure of seeing the
murals yet,” Nina cut in, her movie-star smile in place. Her gaze
shifted to Ron and her smile broadened. “Sweetheart, what a
surprise.”

“Mother.” Ron walked forward to kiss her
cheek. “What are you doing here?” Ashley heard him add in a lower
tone.

Nina patted his cheek. “Just stopped by to
see the fabulous work we’re supporting. Ms. Fitzgerald is a very
talented young woman. I own a couple of her paintings,” she told
the president.

Ashley doubted that Nina owned a single
painting with her signature on it, unless it was on a mat where she
could wipe her feet.

“And these are the talented young men she’s
taken under her wing—Josh and Micah,” the president added.

Nina extended her hands to Micah and Josh and
gripped theirs as though she were genuinely pleased to make their
acquaintance. The men wore goofy smiles, dazzled by her attention
and apparent warmth. Josh surprised Ashley when he told Nina about
the number of her plays he’d attended. He had never indicated he
was an admirer of Nina Noble.

Ashley listened to the exchange between the
actress and the others, but her gaze was on Ron, who was staring at
his mother with an unreadable expression. What had Nina meant by
the ‘we’re supporting’? When had she become a benefactor of this
museum? And did the ‘we’ include…?

Her eyes widened as the realization hit her.
Oh, no he didn’t. Ron didn’t donate money to the museum in an
attempt to thwart Vaughn’s efforts. As though he sensed her gaze on
him, Ron looked at her and grinned.
That adorable, quirky smile
isn’t getting you out of this one, mister.

He started to inch his way toward her, but
the president said, “Ashley, my dear, why don’t you show Mrs. Noble
the wonderful work you’re doing downstairs. And you two come in and
wait for Mr. Doyle,” she told Micah and Josh. “He’s running a
little late.”

Ashley balked. Why should she be the one to
show that witch around? Before she could open her mouth and
protest, the president added, “Mrs. Noble has been very generous.
She gave us a sizeable donation for this museum. She’s also
starting a commune for artists at her ancestral home in Culver
City, which we’ll be in charge of.”

For a moment, Ashley couldn’t breathe. What
the woman planned to do was to destroy her dream. Why? While Micah
and Josh beamed like lottery winners, Ashley’s gaze swung to Ron.
Had he known about this? He shook his head, the shock on his face
plain to see. How could Nina do this to her? How could she hold a
grudge for this long? Rage twisted Ashley’s gut. She released her
breath in spurts, her gaze colliding with her tormentor’s.

“It would be a pleasure to show Mrs. Noble
the murals.” She was proud her voice came out steady and calm. She
turned and marched out of the office, too angry to see if Ron
followed.

When she reached the elevators, Ashley turned
around and caught Nina’s beaming smirk as she said her goodbyes.
What a vindictive bitch. Ashley’s fingers curled into a fist, as
she imagined what she would like to do to the woman’s scrawny
neck.

Ashley’s gaze slid to Ron. The president had
a firm grip on his hand while she prattled on about something.
Probably another version of her speech for wealthy donors—how his
wonderful donation would jumpstart beneficial programs for
school-age children. She’d heard it often enough. And from the look
on his face, he wasn’t going anywhere too soon, which was fine by
her. She didn’t want him around when she and Nina had their little
‘chat.’

Ashley started for the stairs.

“The elevator, Ms. Fitzgerald,” Nina said
aloud and extended a hand toward her, her teeth still flashing.

Ashley’s fear of confined spaces warred with
her pride. Pride won. Heart pounding with a mixture of anger and
dread, she joined Nina and Ms. Wilkins in the elevator. Ashley
ignored the assistant and zeroed in on Nina as the doors closed.
“Mrs. Noble, first I want to apologize.”

“For what, my dear?”

“If it weren’t for me, your husband would
still be alive. For that, I’m truly sorry.”

Nina threw her a mocking glance. “What are
you talking about? My husband died in the line of duty, hardly your
fault.”

Ashley blinked. What game was the woman
playing now? There was no audience. Or did she stop blaming her?
God, she hoped so. She’d bet it was Ron’s doing. Ashley sighed with
relief. “Thank you. About Carlyle House, I don’t understand what’s
going on. I thought you wanted to sell it.”

Nina shook her head. “Not anymore. You’ll get
paid handsomely for your work here and at Carlyle House. Friends of
mine once wanted to turn it into commune for artists, you know. I’m
just fulfilling their dream.”

Ashley wanted to yell, “That was my parents’
dream.” But the elevator door opened and a throng of people
descended on them—paparazzi and Nina’s fans. Microphones hovered
over their heads and cameras clicked and exploded in their faces as
a media circus began. The museum security tried to intervene and
contain the situation to no avail.

“Nina? Is it true that you’re funding the
artists working on the murals?” a reporter asked.

“How much money did you pledge?” another one
added.

“Can I have your autograph, please?” a fan
yelled.

“Is it true that you’re going to give a
percentage of the revenues from your present play to a local art
center?”

The questions kept coming and Nina kept
smiling, basking in the limelight. Finally, she raised her hands
and everyone went quiet. Ashley tried to shuffle her way out, but
the people had formed a tight shield around them. She was forced to
stay there, right beside Nina. Ashley ground her teeth and fought
to stay calm.

“I don’t know how you found me, but I guess
the secret is out,” Nina said with a toothy grin. “I’m interested
in working with local artists, and not just budding actors and
actresses. This has always been a dream of mine, but now that age
is catching up with me—”

“You’re still young, Nina,” a reporter yelled
back and a few murmured in agreement.

“We love you, Nina,” a fan called out.

Nina laughed. “Love you, too, babe. I guess
you’re as young as you feel, and I do feel invigorated and excited
about these new projects. The children’s museum is just the
beginning.”

“Who’s the young lady by your side?” a
reporter asked.

“This, ladies and gentlemen of the press, is
Ashley Fitzgerald, the talented young artist behind the murals here
at the children’s museum. If you ask her nicely, she might let you
see what they’ve already done. They’re truly incredible.”

And she hadn’t even seen them. The woman was
a piece of work. Ashley pasted a smile on her lips as more cameras
clicked. While Nina signed autographs, the reporters swooped down
on Ashley. Suddenly, it was those years with her parents all over,
the paparazzi asking personal questions and intruding on their
lives. A reporter asked about her erotic series, her models, when
she was going to do another show and where. Another recalled who
her parents were and asked about the reissuing of their songs.
Worse, her claustrophobia kicked in. She endured the barrage by
sheer will, smiled until her jaw hurt and hated every moment of it.
The only consolation was that the publicity was good for her work
and her cousin’s gallery.

“That’s enough, folks,” Nina finally said.
“Unless Ashley decides to let you see the murals, we must
leave.”

Ashley smiled through her teeth. “I’m sorry,
but the official opening of the museum is not for a few more
months. The murals won’t be unveiled until then.”

Something in her voice must have convinced
them, because one by one the reporters stepped back. Nina’s fans
still hovered. Ashley pushed her way through them and hurried
toward the new building. Inside, she was seething with rage, her
hands clammy and forehead dotted with sweat from a near panic
attack. She took deep breaths, trying to calm down.

She’s Ron’s mother…she’s Ron’s mother….

She was pacing up and down, silently calling
Nina Noble every nasty name she could think of, when the actress
and her assistant appeared. “It was my parents’ dream to work with
young artists, a dream I meant to fulfill. You shouldn’t—”

“Shut up.” Nina closed in on her, eyes
blazing. “You have some nerve filling my son’s head with things you
know nothing about. Doyle was not at the house the night of the
fire, and he didn’t talk to my brother or my husband. What are you
trying to do, huh? Get my son killed, too? Doyle is not someone to
be trifled with.”

Ashley took several steps back until her back
was against the wall. “Mrs. Noble, I just told him what I recalled
during hypnosis.”

“And all of it is untrue. I want you to
listen to me, missy,” Nina hissed. “Stay away from my son. You want
Carlyle House? It’s yours. But on one condition—stay away from
Ron.”

Ashley shook her head. “You’re using your son
to bargain with me?”