Stroke of Love

Gallery Giants

Karen was horrified. She knew it was a compliment to her but she considered Basil to be a friend and an upstanding art connoisseur. If she had known that Jay Madison was going to insult him, she might not have encouraged this visit. She watched as Basil looked up from vast desk in anger. His outrage gave way to surprise and then pleasure. “Jay, my friend! You dog… I told you not to do that!” he turned his head to take in Madison’s companion with a smile. “Karen, darling, how are you and what on earth are you doing with Jay?” Jay Madison crossed the room and the two men shook hands heartily. Karen was still by the door taking it all in, with relief flooding through her. Both men had an obvious, genuine affection for one another. Jay, she realised, had been teasing Basil. As was her habit, she observed what was in front of her through her artistic lens. The two men were tall and blue-eyed and both of them were handsome, but the similarities between the two gallery owners ended there, she thought. One had curly blonde hair and the other’s was almost black and much straighter. Basil looked rather like a playboy, completing the bad boy image with a sixteen carat stud in one ear, an open necked shirt sporting a finely wrought gold chain lying against his throat. Jay, Karen thought, looked like a classic English GQ model. Serious and sexy. His companion could had been French, she mused with his fine features and metrosexual sense of style. Jay… well, Jay… Before she could finish her analysis, Basil called her name. “Karen, why are you just standing there? At least come say hello.” She moved forward with an easy smile. “What has Jay done to you?” “Noting I didn’t ask for,” she said, kissing the younger art collector, who snorted. “I can believe that.” He glanced at a relaxed Jay, who was now sitting in an armchair away from the desk. “My cousin’s always been a sucker for a pretty face.” Karen gasped. “You’re related?” “Distantly,” Jay interjected drolly. Basil laughed. “You know you love me. His mother is my father’s second something or other. But don’t you tell anyone. We enjoy the hype.” “She wouldn’t dare tell.” Karen and Basil looked at Jay with questioning looks on their faces. “Not while you’re under my roof, Miss Fox,” he teased, one brow raised. “You’re living with Jay,” Basil groaned. “Bang goes your professional focus, your brilliant productivity… his house is like a circus.” Jay laughed at his cousin. “And you’re the show master!” “I can’t draw anyway, darlin’. My hand’s broken, remember?” “Ahh,” it made sense to Basil then. “He’s doing the honourable, is he?” They didn’t stay for a very long time, but Karen could tell the two of them were quite close and the media obviously exaggerated any competition or animosity. “See,” Basil said at one point, “the two of you would have met a long time ago if Jay had been in the country when we opened your exhibition. Not that you stuck around too long, yourself, Karen.” He shrugged. “Well, now you’ll have plenty of time to get acquainted over Brownie’s breakfasts.” Jay sent him an unfathomable look and Basil returned it with a falsely innocent blue gaze. “Is she staying in Ro-?” “We’d better get going, or we’ll miss our reservation,” Jay said standing up abruptly. Basil shut his mouth on whatever he was about to ask. Instead he whipped out a pen and took hold of Karen’s cast. After scribbling something on it, he kissed her forehead. “Feed her well, Jay. She deserves it- all her work has been sold.” The pleasure on her face was worth a thousand classical paintings. “Basil! I don’t know whether to call you a darlin’ or a dirt bag for not telling me sooner!” She hugged his arm and he grinned. “I wanted to see if you would be able to walk out of here with a straight face that matched Jay’s ugly mug.” Basil and Jay shook hands and just before the door opened, Jay’s expression vanished and his face became that implacable mask again. Karen’s was successfully devoid of emotion. That was until they reached the car and she read what Carter had written on her cast. She burst out laughing. “What does it say?” “’You could’ve just asked me. I’d have gladly run you over to get you under my roof’.” “What a charming i***t my cousin is,” Jay said without heat or malice. Jay took his house guest to a restaurant called Four Suns. It was a place often frequented by the wide and overlapping social circles of the arts, business and politics. Once they were seated and had ordered drinks, Jay started the conversation by saying, “You are a gifted artist, Karen.” “Why, thank you, Jay. I appreciate that coming from someone who sees as much art as you do.” “I mean it.” She inclined her head in acknowledgement, secretly very pleased that he liked her work. She decided not to examine whether it was the artist or the woman in her that was so pleased. As per the custom at the Four Suns, a different sun ‘set’ upon the diners for the evening, that particular evening being the night for the resident Asian chef. With Karen’s permission, Jay ordered for both of them and then spent a good while introducing her to several people who walked up to their table. Granted, he didn’t say much. Just, “This is Karen Fox, she teaches art at the White River Art School.” Karen wasn’t a shy person by nature, but it was obvious that everyone who approached them wanted to know who she was in particular relation to Jay Madison. The handsome man didn’t let on if he knew how curious his friends and colleagues were about his personal life. He held court like a man who knew how to handle a lot of attention without actually wanting it at all. Because she was in his company, she was also subject to the open appraisal of each and every one of them. They took in her fire-shot hair, hazel green eyes, fine facial features and smooth skin. She wore a short slip of a dress with black stockings that had fine gold fibres woven into their ordinary fabric and they seemed to get an equal amount of attention from both men and women. Once they were alone, Jay commented. “I have never had so many men greet me during a meal before.” Karen smiled. “You sound a lot like Cheryl when you say that.” “You’re very close to Cheryl, aren’t you?” Jay asked, looking at her with what might have been speculation. An odd smile flitted on her perfectly shaped lips. “You could say that. We have a good relationship.” Jay didn’t get a chance to respond because their entrée arrived and the chef came out to greet the art collector personally. “Mr Madison, please- don’t get up. It’s always a pleasure to serve you-” he glanced in Karen’s direction, “and I see you have another beautiful woman with you tonight. Oh, but she’s unique.” He bowed slightly and said to Karen, “Madam, I’m ever at your lovely service.” Karen blushed. “Thank you.” The chef suppressed a groan. “I’ll make you a dessert as delectable as your voice,” he promised as he left them to enjoy their meal. “You’ve certainly charmed him,” Jay laughed. Karen laughed too, watching the small man disappear into the kitchen. “I didn’t mean to.” Lifting his glass jay took a sip of wine. “I think I believe that.” “Tell me, are you a British national or did you catch that neat accent at some posh private school?” A grin flashed on the gorgeous face in front of her and Karen almost forgot that she was waiting for a response. She actually blinked and looked down at the table to hide that his smile had nearly knocked her out of her chair. “Actually,” he was saying, “I am British by birth. I went to school there and everything. I only came here to tap into your economic wealth.” “How come you chose New Hampshire? It’s hardly at the centre of economic development.” “No,” he conceded, “but it suited my requirements.” She wondered what he meant by that but didn’t push. Instead she asked, “So how long have you lived here?” “Six years.” “How old are you?” His eyes twinkled. “I’m thirty-two.” “And you’re not married yet.” “Christ, you sound like my mother,” he murmured, his mouth lifting at the corners. She wrinkled her nose. “I’m sorry. Just thought I’d get to know you a bit.” “By all means, you’re most welcome to.” So she continued to ask him questions over their starter and she learnt that he had a younger brother who headed the Madison Gallery in London. His parents were still alive- Mr and Mrs Madison lived at the country home in England. Karen also learnt that Jay still preferred cricket to baseball, but if he were pressed for an answer he would say he supported the Red Sox. He didn’t work out beyond laps in the pool and the occasional tennis match or game of golf. His favourite singer was Mrs Brown, he decorated his own house with the help of a designer. The ideas had mainly been his and she had implemented them, mainly from sketches he had provided. Before they could say more, the main course arrived and Karen was silenced for a moment as the mere aroma made her mouth water. She decided to put the conversation on hold and give the food the attention of all her senses. The sauce for the stir fry was rich and tangy, the various selected meats were succulent and spicy and the side plate of noodles was divine. The rice was cooked to perfection with an undercurrent of a unique flavour she couldn’t identify. As a result, the entire meal was just as Jay had promised it would be. It was absolutely delicious. The only thing Karen regretted was the fact that she was using a fork and Jay was using chopsticks. He looked very natural doing so and it just added to the mental image Karen was forming of this international jetsetter with whom she now shared a home. “This food is so tasty,” Karen said. “All the fried chicken and pies down south would have a run for their money.” “Really? Tell me why you’re up north then. Don’t you like the warm weather down there?” “Oh I love it, but Daddy- my father- is my biggest problem,” she said quite candidly. “Your father?” When she nodded, strands of her hair fell into her face. Jay was nearly tempted to brush it back for her but she just tossed her hair slightly, knowing just how to send her hair back over her shoulder. “He’s a very influential man down there and my mother as well- using her maiden name would be just as disastrous because ‘society’ is at her beck and call. “When I got back from school I had job offers from all sorts of places and Daddy had already found me a job as a junior curator in a museum. Mama had put me on the board of a debutante grooming club.” Jay’s eyebrows rose. “Yes, I am sure you know southerners take their ball as seriously as the New England lot… I actually came out twice. New York and South Carolina.” She chuckled ruefully, sipping hot orange tea. The she continued. “After a six-month boiling period, I told them I loved them and my three older sisters but I simply couldn’t stand it any longer. I needed my own space.” Jay didn’t miss the determination in her voice or her expression. “Well done.” “Yeah, well, my dad was so convinced I was only saying I was leaving to get attention because I wasn’t happy with something at home. He offered me a raise, a house, another job…” she shook her head. “I made a few calls to friends and I ended up living with Cheryl.” “I see.” “Then Harry’s sister, who I went to school with, introduced him and I and he helped me find my old house. Then you ran me over and now I’m here with you.” “I didn’t run you over,” he protested mildly. “You darted in front of my car!” “That wasn’t a car- it was a large truck!” They both laughed at their quick exchange and Karen thought he had a wonderful laugh. She was fast discovering he had a wonderful everything. He was stylish, handsome and polite. His upbringing was impeccable, his personality made him doubly attractive. She wondered why the man was still unattached- what could possibly be wrong with him? As they awaited dessert, their conversation turned to dogs and then airline service. Karen found out that Jay preferred to charter a jet than travel on most airlines. He didn’t travel too often so he didn’t need his own plane, but the privacy was quite useful. The delightful chef returned to serve dessert personally. Diced kiwi, strawberry and mango were an eye-catching background for choc-granadilla mousse-filled crepe drizzled with fresh cream. Somehow the combination didn’t seem like too much. It was just right. The mousse melted on her tongue and flowed down her throat as smoothly as he had promised. “It’s divine!” The man behind the masterpiece beamed. “I am glad you liked it. I don’t usually use cream or chocolate for my Asian desserts but I didn’t mind breaking the rule for you.” “Aw, thank you so much. It is such an honour to hear you say that.” With another bow the chef left their table and the two of them set into their dessert, Karen eating with as much gusto as she could in public. Afterward, Jay settled the bill and they left, agreeing that coffee would spoil the lovely meal. Several people watched the lady in a little black dress, gold belt and matching shoes with interest. Everything about her was striking, including her companion whose sombre colours did nothing to take away from the sheer appeal of his face and physique. He escorted her with polite deference and the two of them easily made their way out of the Four Suns. The valet brought Jay’s car around and they drove straight back to his house. Once home, she could not resist the offered cup of tea and they sat in the spacious kitchen enjoying the hot beverage in relative silence. “Thank you for taking me to the Four Suns. I’d never been there before.” “You’re welcome, it was my pleasure.” A moment or two passed before he said, “And I am even sorrier I broke your hand. You can’t draw when it’s like, can you?” She laughed. “There you go again, Jay.” Pause. “Would it do any good if I officially forgave you?” “I don’t know.” “Well then, Jay Madison, I officially forgive you for the part you played the day I rushed blindly into the rainy street on my way to meet Aunt Madeline.” Jay’s face melted into one of his beautiful smiles as he chuckled. “Thank you, Miss Fox.” “My pleasure,” she said loftily, her eyes twinkling. “Why don’t you grab a bottle of water to take your medication with, then you can run along to bed. I’ll clear up down here.” “Thank you.” She was glad for the diversion. Good nights were always weird, so she took the bottle and headed toward the back stairs. “Good night, Jay. Thank you again for everything.” “You’re welcome, I’m glad I got to see your art. Good night, Fox.” He missed the odd look that crossed her face before she turned and went upstairs.