“I always knew you were clever, Texas. And this will keep those pictures of Damien out of the tabloids?”
“That’s the plan.”
“Then you know you can count both me and Charlie in.”
I nod. I know how much she and Charles Maynard did to protect Damien’s reputation back when he was still on the tennis circuit. A hell of a lot more than his father ever did, that’s for sure.
“And Blaine’s invited to the party, too, of course,” I add.
She grinds her unlit cigarette into the tabletop as if she were stubbing it out. “Well, you can give his slice of birthday cake to someone else. The boy’s in Asia for the rest of the month.”
“Seriously?”
“He’s the featured artist at one of Beijing’s premier galleries. After the opening he’s going to Shanghai and then Hong Kong and Tokyo.”
“That’s really great for him,” I say.
“He’s kicking ass and taking names, that boy.” She smiles when she says it, but some of the pride I’ve heard before is lacking in her voice. “From what I see, your career’s taking off, too.”
“I’m trying,” I admit. “I’m finishing a proposal right now for a Texas-based corporation with a global presence. It’s the biggest job I’ve gone after.” I think about the ghost of my mother I saw at the Beverly Center, and feel a quick stab of apprehension—and of anger. Because what should be an exciting opportunity is now tainted with dread simply because of my memories of that woman.
“I’m proud of you, Texas,” Evelyn says, then reaches out and squeezes my hand. “I don’t know what your competition is like, but I do know they’d be a fool not to take you seriously. I’m proud of you, and if that sounds patronizing, that’s just too damn bad.”
I laugh, my chest tight with emotions. “It doesn’t sound patronizing at all.” My own mother would probably tell me not to even bother, because I don’t have a shot in hell.
I suck in a hard breath, trying to ward off weepiness. “I’m going to put the final touches on it, and then get Damien to read it tomorrow. He’s so busy, I almost hate asking him, but—”
“Nonsense,” she says. “For one thing, that boy would do anything for you. For another, it’s nice to be needed.” She sighs. “I used to be right in the thick of helping Blaine get ready for a show. But he’s so tightly scheduled now and traveling so much, I just never—”
She cuts herself off with a shrug and a wave. “Doesn’t matter. He’s doing just fine without me.”
“I—” I stop, afraid I’m crossing a line. But then I start over because I adore Evelyn, and where my friends are concerned, I don’t back off. “Are you and Blaine okay?”
“Oh, hell, Texas, we’re fine. He’s taking off. It’s what I’ve wanted for him for years. Honestly. I couldn’t be happier.”
“I’m glad,” I say. But I’m not entirely sure I believe her.
“I swear to god, I will kill that fucker,” Ryan says, as he paces in front of the huge window in Damien’s office.
“If that is the plan,” Carmela trills, “I do not object.”
I’ve just finished summing up everything Carmela told me to Damien and Ryan.
Damien’s on a couch in the sitting area, and kicks his feet up on the coffee table, his attention solely on me. “Carmela told you all of this yesterday?”
“We had a chat,” I admit.
“And you’re just now telling us this?”
“There wasn’t an immediate threat that the pictures would get out,” I say, looking to Carmela who nods in support. “And we wanted to have a plan.”
“You didn’t think to come to Ryan and me first? It’s my ass out there—literally—and Ryan does have that handy Security Chief title. Not to mention a vested interest since his girlfriend’s ass is equally exposed.”
“Carmela and I already had an idea, and you were in Palm Springs with Jackson yesterday afternoon, and. . .” I trail off with a shrug, knowing I sound lame. The truth is that I would have brought Damien in on developing a plan if I wasn’t trying to juggle two plans at once. One of which has to stay secret from him.
He rubs his temples. “Nikki—” He cuts himself off, looking perplexed. Not surprisingly; he knows me well enough to know this isn’t the kind of thing I’d keep from him. Not without a good reason.
I really don’t want him to figure out what my good reason is.
“Do not be cross with your wife, Damie. I begged her to help me come up with an idea to get the pictures from Bertrand and to make sure that he does not bother me—or any of us—again.”
Damien exhales, then turns to Ryan, who shrugs casually. “Hey, fine by me. If they already have a plan in mind for shutting this guy down, let’s hear it.”
I smile gratefully at him, and he gives me the slightest nod in return. Jamie’s told him the situation, of course, so he’s playing along. And doing a damn good job, frankly.
“All right, then,” says Damien. “Lay it out for me.”
I stand and start organizing my thoughts.
“The idea is to get him to Santa Barbara thinking that Carmela’s got a shoot for her couture line and that he’s about to have a huge pay day. We have a photographer, an agent, and a magazine all set up already.”