Falling for the Family Heir

Chapter One: The Painting

Allegra, a young aspiring artist, is hosting multiple art shows in New York City on a Friday night, the week before Thanksgiving. Thanks to her friend Oscar (one of the richest trust fund babies in the US and her friend since they were kids), who is one of the most elusive and eligible wealthy bachelors in the city, has been doing the publicity. Anyone that is anyone in town has been vying for tickets, thanks to Oscar’s influence.

It is a huge undertaking, and she has been dashing back and forth in Ubers all night to oversee each art gallery. She was supposed to be driven by Oscar's personal driver, also a friend, but Jon had asked for the night off to go on a date and ask his girlfriend to marry him, so Allegra secretly gave him the night off. Allegra’s parents were wealthy, but they were killed while she was young, and their best friend has been siphoning money from the Esquire Magazine company that the Hostetter family built. The corporation is in dire straits. Atlas, an evasive millionaire with a reputation for buying companies in trouble and rebuilding them, has been getting offers from a competitor company to buy out the magazine secretly. Her magazine.

Atlas had heard a little bit about the daughter of the company but didn’t know much…yet. Although Atlas hasn’t agreed to take on the takeover and takedown of Esquire, he was intrigued. A tireless workaholic, his current girlfriend (well, mostly just a girl toy) had nagged him to take her to the gallery's art show. Meanwhile, Allegra is single after a dreadful breakup with a domineering lawyer. She was incredibly nervous this evening. Critics were invited and she was both excited and terrified. Allegra has been trying to save the company, but her parents’ friend has taken control to the point that she has no say whatsoever. Her art has been the only thing saving her sanity.

Allegra had just entered the first gallery, and the line was backed up around the block. The gallery was full of people, so she took a deep breath and walked in. Oscar was already here with friends, so she walked up to them to give him a big hug and a quick hello. Oscar was quick to tell her to breathe, please. He introduced her to his friends, and they began to walk through the exhibit.

"Thank you for taking me out tonight, baby."

Cindy kissed Atlas on the cheek, trying to sneak her fingers through his shirt. But it was buttoned up too tight. Not looking away from his emails, Atlas grunted a small 'mm' before opening the door for her. The photographers were everywhere, but he quickly walked right into the venue, dodging their invasive lenses. Cindy wanted more limelight, though, and stayed for photos while Atlas waited inside, rolling his eyes. As soon as she joined him, he looked around at the gallery. God, he was bored already. He tucked one hand in his pant pocket as Cindy dragged him everywhere to say hi to her friends. They had been dating for almost three weeks now. Perhaps it was time for a change. Atlas looked around at the girls at the party, trying to see if one could AT LEAST catch his eye. Hopefully, he had not slept with them all yet.

Oscar was strolling with Allegra on his arm, mostly to keep her from running to the restroom to hide from the chaotic crowds. She kept checking her watch because she was only going to be able to be in this gallery for forty-five minutes before she had to move to the next one. The good news is that Oscar promised to follow her all night UNLESS he got distracted. Oscar was pointing out notable guests as they walked.

"Thank god the Trills are here this evening. Jesus, I hope they didn’t bring that dreadful daughter."

Allegra laughed, a tinkling sound that carried. She whispered to him "You mean the one that fawns on you? And follows you like a puppy?"

Cindy’s friends incessantly praised Atlas when she wasn’t looking, prompting him to notice their flaws: odd intonations, bad breath, excessive drinking, superficiality. Annoyed, he excused himself from the event he detested but felt obliged to attend. With no business connections around, he sought a quiet place to check emails and found a small, serene elevator. It led him to a cozier, more tranquil gallery with better music. As he observed the art, a striking deep red rug caught his eye. Approaching the corner, he feigned interest in a dull painting, just wanting to feel the rug. It was soft, allowing him to relax and breathe easier with his eyes closed.

Allegra wanted to check the back rooms to the private galleries. She gave Oscar a quick hug and took the private elevators up. These rooms were strictly invite-only as dozens of these paintings ranged from six figures up. She quietly went from room to room, checking details. In the room titled "A Scent of Dragons," she noticed a man checking messages. She didn’t want to bother him, so she adjusted the beautiful priceless rug, tugging out an invisible wrinkle. As she stood, she noticed the birds were restless. She spoke softly to them and fed them some bird seed hidden behind the door. Smiling as she touched the cage briefly, she turned and headed to her favorite painting in the room. She touched the side of the unframed painting lovingly, gently. This wasn’t her best work, but it was a painting of the Esquire building in Manhattan when it was first built. She had recreated it from a photograph on her father's work desk at the magazine. She had gifted it to him. But since he was gone, she put it on display for this show only. Her eyes got misty looking at it again.

Tapping away on his phone, Atlas felt a shift in the rug. He kept looking at his phone but checked out the figure in his peripherals. Oh, a woman. He heard her talking to the birds and talking to them lovingly. He smiled to himself in amusement. Who does that any more? He could hear her heels clinking away to the other side of the gallery. He took the opportunity to look in her direction. Whoa, look at that back. Her backless dress left little to the imagination, but it was shyly hidden by her wavy blonde hair. A side slit dress? And legs that went for miles. Oh, she looked tasty. Bye bye, Cindy.

Atlas locked his eyes on her, straightening his tie and vest, making sure his hair was still perfectly coifed in the reflection of one of the paintings. He walked up slowly to her, watching her touch the painting gently. He froze where he was. He was so focused on her he did not notice the painting. It was not that big; it could have been easy to miss. The Esquire building. But the detail. The detail was…breathtaking. He unwittingly stood there admiring the painting, walking closer and closer to it to examine its intricacies. Soon, he was side-to-side with the woman but utterly captivated by the art. Oh my lord, the artist had even taken the time to dot it with painstaking detail. This was a piece of love. He wanted to hug that painting. His face gave away very little as he looked at the painting, but his tummy and heart were leaping in bounds inside. A sudden change in music brought him back to reality. The woman who stood beside him was an even more perfect vision up close.

"Oh wow." He looked at her panicked.

Did he just say those words? He cleared his throat as he took her in. She had the coyest features, covered by a bronze mask to match her flowing dress and soft pink lips. He regained his composure and stole a drink from the walking waiter.

"Champagne?" He smiled and downed his in a single go. "Are you an art lover?" He looked down at her breasts for a moment before looking back up at her with a hint of a smile.

Allegra was lost in the moment, thinking of her parents. Her father boosting her on his knee as they went over the photos that were to go in the next issue. How he would let her pick them out with him. God, she missed them so much. She felt a presence next to her but since there was only silence. She didn’t break it with any superfluous conversation. She heard the indrawn breath and she smiled. A warm tingling filled her as they stood side by side. Someone else liked this piece as well. She turned to him her face aglow ready to talk about the skyline, the mist maybe even share how she did the lines. In her first glimpse she recognized the man that was in the other room but he was breathtaking when you took him in straight on. A chiseled classical chin and nose unmarred by the lines of age. He was tan and broad-shouldered, but his build and the line of his elegant face spoke of an aristocratic background. His raven black hair reflected glints of the deepest indigo. Her eyes lifted to his and her breath caught. Steel blue they crinkled in a smile as he offered her champagne. Then his eyes boldly dipped lower assessing her. Her chin raised higher and her back stiffened. She arched a brow and tilted her head. Letting him take his time before his eyes came back to hers. Her stare was much cooler. She re-assessed. A typical urban troll. Rich but probably pampered and spoiled growing up. She calmly raised her hand briefly, the waiter hurrying to her, giving her one of the flutes of champagne, never taking her eyes off of the stranger’s.

She spoke softly but with a hint of steel: "I am a lover of art if it is created with the heart and if the artist sacrificed something in the piece. I'm not a lover of things that come too easily, art included. I hope you find some pieces in here that appeal to you. Good evening." with a small smile.

She turned and headed to the other room. As she walked she thought: He probably didn’t even catch the inference. Some men like that. Were such pigs. Men like Ben. That ass.

Fuck, her eyes were sexy. And oooh, Atlas could tell he rubbed her the wrong way. It didn't faze him. He just kept staring into the depths of her soul, absorbed in those oceans mere mortals would call eyes. Sacrifice of the artist. He happened to agree. But she started to walk away before he could speak. He smiled to himself and looked at the painting. That girl was naïve. But he shared her definition of art. It was so hard to find. Like this piece before him. She was moved by this piece. Why? Figure that out, and that girl was his. Another woman happened to stand next to him. He could smell it. He could smell when they were coming around to talk to him as opposed to just…not.

She paused before saying, "Nice painting…right?"

Atlas glanced at the oblivious blonde and smiled. "Yes, it's beautiful. You'll never see another like it. See?

He pointed out the droplets in the painting, saying, "The artist created air from these dots, revealing the hidden within plain sight. The focal point lies off-center yet dominates the piece. This artwork was made with heart, sacrificing sadness for beauty—a profound challenge." He clinked his champagne glass with the captivated woman and slowly took a sip.

That really was a magnificent painting.