To Catch a Billionaire (10 page)

Blankets tumbled to the floor as she haphazardly shoved them away and got up. Crazy as it seemed, she felt relieved that she’d no longer dress as someone else, disguise her voice and body, and best of all, as Erin she could meet Tristan Forsyth head on. And maybe more than heads would collide... or come together.

As she imagined his hands, his touch, she thought about what he’d feel like naked, up against her skin. She immediately stuffed those thoughts into a far-away compartment of her brain.

The gala was that evening. Erin needed to prepare for the barrage of questions that were bound to come her way. She’d checked the late-night news before turning in for the night and saw a photo of the gallery and listened to the newscaster mention the theft. The segment was brief, but then, news people only had two minutes for each story before they moved on to the next. But even two minutes in the news would spread gossip like wildfire among art patrons and galleries in the area. She had to go, a confident appearance could go a long way in getting her through the evening. She turned to her task of dressing for the event.

Giorgio’s gorgeous dress hung on the closet door. Erin took it from its hanger, held it against her body and waltzed across the room. The sensual fabric gave her an on-top-of-the-world feeling, which couldn’t have been further from reality. Perhaps that’s why she loved it. Hanging the dress up, Erin browsed her jewelry box for earrings, necklace and bracelet. She put the bracelet back and took a matching ring from the padded drawer in the box bottom. These would suit the dress perfectly. Setting the jewels aside, Erin opened her shoe closet. She walked inside and chose shoes to wear with the dress. Not the same ones she’d had for the fitting, but sexier and the same height in heels. Satisfied with the outfit, Erin belted her robe tightly around her body, grabbed her briefcase and headed downstairs. She plopped the heavy case onto a kitchen chair and reached for the coffee maker.

Coffee brewed while Erin spread photos across the square table. Beautiful artwork awaited her approval. She poured a cup of coffee and thoughtfully considered each picture. Jeff Godrick was an artist on the rise. His flair for color both excited and captivated Erin. Certain that a display of his work, and sales from it, too, would bring him the notoriety he needed for larger, more prestigious exhibits, Erin pondered the offerings and made selections. Several of the most promising photos lay stacked in a pile, separated from the remaining pictures. She read Jeff’s bio and then flipped open the laptop computer she’d taken from her briefcase.

Websites, featuring Jeff’s paintings, appeared when she searched his name. Erin browsed each one until, bleary-eyed, she refreshed her cup with another round of brew before settling at the table once more. Jeff’s reputation was growing in leaps and bounds. She could see he was ready for bigger and better things than the art and craft shows he often hauled his work to throughout the year.

She smiled when a photo of him grinning from ear to ear popped up on the screen.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway. Erin glanced at the clock, smiled and said, “Good morning, Mrs. Hardy.”

“My gracious, you’re up early,” Mrs. Hardy commented.

“It isn’t that early. I was up at four, though. Couldn’t sleep,” Erin remarked between sips of coffee.

“You’ll be exhausted before the party even begins tonight. Is Giorgio going as your date?”

Erin nodded. “He’s meeting me outside the museum and we’ll go in together.”

“You could have gone with Mr. Forsyth, you know,” Mrs. Hardy reminded her.

“I offered, but he already has a date,” Erin responded.

“Oh, too bad. You two make a lovely match, you know. I watched him last evening, he’s quite handsome and seems caring, too.”

Erin grinned. “Sure, you think so now, but his generosity and friendliness could be an act that would ruin our lifestyle, Mrs. Hardy. I don’t believe Tristan is as honest and sweet as you seem to think he is. He might be making a show of good faith in order to convince me he has the best interests of the gallery at heart. What if I fell for his crap and he then used the art theft as a way to gain control of Cameron’s?” Erin peered over the rim of her cup and watched Mrs. Hardy pull the cover off the toaster.

Mrs. Hardy gave her a quick glance, turned away and then asked, “Will you have an English muffin this morning, Miss Erin?”

“Sure, why not? I’ll get the butter and jam.” Erin dashed to the fridge, took strawberry jam and a tub of butter from the shelf and set them in a space she’d cleared. The women didn’t often have breakfast together, but on this occasion, she wanted to run the decision to discard Cam past Mrs. Hardy.

“I’m surprised you aren’t donning Cam’s persona,” Mrs. Hardy noted.

“As usual, you’ve read my mind,” Erin joked as she tucked the stack of papers and photos away.

“You need to talk, then?”

Erin nodded. “I do. You know I value your advice and that you rarely interfere with my life. I’ve come to the conclusion that Cam has been in charge far too long. Mainly because I like to hide from the public.” Erin brushed her hair back from her face and said, “Frankly, I need to grow the heck up and act like the owner of the gallery. I should deal with all that’s entailed in the business, as myself, instead of playing a charade.” She raised her hands as Mrs. Hardy sat across from her and set muffins in front of each of them. “Cam has been my crutch since Dad passed away. It’s time for me to step in and take over and that begins today. When the opening in New York is over, I’m throwing out Cam’s disguise. I plan to set the record straight with everyone at the gallery and with Tristan, if I must.”

Mrs. Hardy slapped the table with the flat of her hand and laughed out loud. “I thought I’d never see the day you’d make this decision.” She reached across the table and grasped Erin’s hands with her own gnarled fingers. “Grand idea, my dear. What prompted your decision?”

“Several things bothered me until I faced them. First off, I’ve leaned on Cam’s personality for too long. I’m the owner of the gallery, no one else. My staff feel more loyalty to Cam than to me, because they think I’m not involved enough. They think I expect too much of Cam and that it’s unfair. And it’s complicated now that we’ve had a robbery. How can I encourage trust and dedication from my staff or other artisans if I’m absent as owner most of the time? On top of that, Tristan thinks Cam and I are lovers. Imagine? He actually said so last night at the gallery,” Erin exclaimed.

Mrs. Hardy chuckled long and hard as she listened to Erin talk of the man’s nerve in assuming she and Cam were a gay.

“How would he know if we were? He’s never seen us together,” Erin rambled on.

Mrs. Hardy reached out and tapped her hand. “Don’t go on about it, my dear. He’ll know soon enough who you are, once you assume yourself and take over.” Mrs. Hardy studied Erin for a moment and asked, “How are you going to get rid of Cam?”

“I’m sending her away for rest and relaxation, until the Museum opening is over. This way I needn’t immediately explain my actions and nobody will think I belong in the booby-hatch instead of in a successful gallery. I’ll make the announcement that I am really Cam and explain my reasons behind the disguise.”

Mrs. Hardy silently nodded.

“You don’t think I’m wrong to make the change, do you?” Erin asked with a level of self-doubt.

“All things come out in the long run, Miss Erin. Consider each step you take and what the end result will be.” Mrs. Hardy slathered butter and jam over her muffin and bit into it.

“You’re right, of course.”

E
RIN OPENED THE
front doors of the gallery at eight o’clock sharp. The guards were preparing to leave. She introduced herself to Frampton with a genial smile and asked if things had gone well after the police took their leave the night before.

Frampton stared at Erin for a moment and then nodded. “Your assistant, Ms. Boucher, is quite adept and capable in running things around here. She’s an amazing woman,” he said.

“She is, and she’s filled me in on all that’s happened. I’ll need you and your men to continue guarding the gallery at night, Mr. Frampton. At least until the police have decided how I should proceed. During the day, my regular security staff will do.”

These former Marines were built for action and Erin figured she couldn’t do better than to have this crew on duty all night – no matter the cost.

“I’ll let my boss know we’ll be back. When you’re through with us, just give him a call.” Frampton glanced at the others, gave Erin a nod, and went out the rear exit.

As they left, Meredith hurried along the corridor. “Good morning Erin. I thought that was your car out front. Where’s Cam today?”

“I’ve given her some time off. She’s quite upset over the theft. Some rest and relaxation is in order for her until I can get things sorted out here,” Erin commented as she studied the woman before her. The same elusive detail that had nagged her as Cam, nagged her now. There was something different about Meredith... but what?

Meredith busily stowed her handbag and coat behind the receptionist desk. “Can I get you coffee before Jeff Godrick arrives? He was supposed to meet with Cam. I guess he’ll be seeing you instead?”

“No coffee for me, thanks. I’m expected at the police station this morning. I should return before Jeff arrives, but if I haven’t, offer him coffee.” Erin smiled while she made a mental note of Meredith’s expression when mention of the police department was made.
Was she nervous?
And if so, why?
Meredith’s eyes had flicked one way and then another before she looked straight into Erin’s.
Hm.

“I’ll take care of him, don’t you worry,” Meredith promised.

With a quick farewell, Erin headed for the station to deal with the paperwork Durant had requested that Cam sign. She arrived to find the place bustling with activity and the policeman at his desk, clicking away on the computer keys.

“I’m Erin Cameron of Cameron Gallery,” Erin said and held out her hand to shake his. “Ms. Boucher said you needed paperwork signed?”

“Yes, yes, good to meet you. Officer Durant, at your service. Ms. Boucher seemed devastated by the theft and then finding the frames. Is she not at work today?” he asked.

“She’s stressed to the max, so I gave her some time off,” Erin answered. “If you give me those papers, I’ll take care of them for you.”

The leaning stack of files on his desk signified a lack of interest in paperwork or merely that he was inundated with it. Erin smiled and took the papers he proffered. She glanced through them and then said, “Thanks, I’ll be a few minutes with these.” She glanced around the room. “Where can I sit to read them?”

“In here,” Durant said. He led her to a small cubbyhole with a desk and left her to it.

She read the sheets, jotted her name where indicated and handed them back to him with a quick peek at her watch.

“In a hurry, Ms. Cameron?” he asked.

“I’ll be taking Cam’s appointments today, with the first one coming up in about ten minutes. I’ll be at the gallery all day if you need to contact me,” Erin said. She held out her hand and clasped his. “Thank you for all your help. I appreciate it. I’m certain Cam does as well. Have you had any leads on the theft?”

He released her hand and said, “It was an inside job. No doubt about it. We’ll be looking into everyone who works for you and the people who have their work hung there, too.”

Her chest tightened. Erin expelled a pent-up breath. Holy shit, this could get dicey. Was he right? Had one or more of her staff taken the artwork? “I refuse to believe one of my staff would do such a thing, or the artists we represent, for that matter,” Erin said thoughtfully.

“You’ll be giving us a statement, too, Ms. Cameron. It’s early in the investigation, and we’re short-staffed at the moment, but we’ll investigate this to the best of our ability. You can rest assured of that.” Durant gave Erin a slight smile and a cool stare.

“Glad to hear that. Please keep me abreast of your efforts, won’t you? I’ll be happy to help in any way I can.” Deep in thought, Erin sauntered from the room. Was she mistaken or had he implied she was also suspect? Perhaps the entire staff was on his suspect list since he wanted statements from them, too. She clung to the idea they’d all be under a microscope, instead of her alone. If he started looking into Cam, Durant might find she didn’t exist, and where would that end up?
Probably with Erin in the primary suspect seat.
Good grief.

She drew to a stop between two other vehicles in the gallery lot. One car belonged to Tristan and the other was a shabby wreck that gave Erin a moment of humor. Jeff Godrick had arrived. She’d know his jalopy anywhere.

Voices filtered through the hall as Erin strode the length of it. She reached her office to find the door wide open and both Tristan and Jeff in conversation. A coffee carafe and fixings sat on the side table next to the sofa. They sipped from delicate cups and smiled when they saw her.

“I’m sorry I’m late, Jeff,” Erin said to the lean man who’d risen from his seat. She glanced at Tristan who’d done the same and asked, “Did we have an appointment today, Mr. Forsyth?”

Charm oozed from Tristan as he smiled and a tidal wave of sensuality flowed over her, leaving her knees weak. Erin steeled herself against her attraction for him and focused once more on Jeff.

“Let’s get started, shall we, Jeff?” Her tone dismissed Tristan.

With a wide grin, Tristan promised to return later and left the artist and gallery owner on their own.

“I’ve studied the pictures you left for Cam. Your work is superb. I’m thrilled that you’ve considered Cameron Gallery for a show. This will create an opportunity for us to increase space for your work. You’ll have a room all to yourself where the paintings will be displayed and, of course, an opening will be held.” Erin spread out the photos she’d clipped together. They covered the top of her desk. When Jeff was silent, she turned to him.

Jeff said with uncertainty, “I’m sorry, Erin. I’m not sure I want to show my work here. With the theft of Pimskin’s artworks, I worry mine will be stolen as well.”