MisMatch (A Humorous Contemporary Romance) (14 page)

Jessica froze. What the hell was going on?
Who the hell had Michael been talking to? And how did he know Eli?
Even more important, why did he have someone tracking Eli’s
movements? One thing was sure, Jessica would cut off her
stiletto-clad feet before she let her mother marry this
asshole.

***

“So, where do you know Michael from
again?”

Eli’s senses were on alert; Jessica was on a
fishing mission. He started the car and easily maneuvered around a
rain-filled pothole as his windshield wipers worked furiously to
sluice the rain away. “I don’t. Tonight was the first time I’ve met
him.”

Her silence spoke volumes. She was never
quiet. Since he’d met her, she always seemed to have something to
say, unless her mouth was otherwise occupied. He shifted
uncomfortably in his seat. Given her present mood, allowing his
fantasies to take over would be a bad call. “Why do you ask?”

She sucked on her bottom lip, and Eli fought
a groan. She was so damn sexy without trying.

“It just seemed like he knew you.”

“Never laid eyes on him.” Eli needed
information of his own on Michael Fenton. If Jessica was willing to
help, then fair enough. “He was wrong about the show in San
Francisco, too. I’ve never done an exhibit in the city.” As soon as
Jessica was safely ensconced at her house, he’d be giving Vince a
call first, then Sam. It was time they worked out a few things.

From the corner of his eye he watched as a
frown marred her smooth forehead.

“Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong? I get
the impression tonight wasn’t that fun for you.”

“What? No. It was, and thanks for doing it.
I overheard something when I went to get my purse, and I’m trying
to make sense of it.”

Maybe today was his lucky day. “What did you
hear?”

Jessica shook her head and sent her blond
hair cascading over her shoulders. “I don’t think so. You’ll think
I’m being crazy.”

“Let me be the judge.”

She expelled a breath. “I heard Michael on
the phone asking someone what the hell you were doing at the house,
and why he hadn’t been warned you were coming. He said it was their
job to keep tabs on you. Maybe I dragged you into some kind of
stalker ring or something. Or maybe I’ve exposed you to a ring of
super fans who want to kidnap you and hold you for ransom until you
produce another painting.”

Ice formed in Eli’s gut. “Did he give a
name? Any indication of who he was talking to?”

“No.”

“Then don’t worry about it for now.”
Yeah, let me worry about who the fuck is keeping
tabs on my brother. Damn it, Samson, what kind of trouble are you
in?

“I can’t just ignore it. He wants something
from you, and it makes me nervous to think about what that might
be.”

It made him nervous, too. But like hell he
was going to say so. Still, he had an opening. “Well, I was
thinking about something else at dinner. You know that bracelet
your mom was wearing?”

“You mean that one daddy dearest got all
possessive about?”

“Yeah, that’s the one. I know this is a
little farfetched, but I remember that being a one-of-a-kind item
that was part of a jewelry and art heist some years ago.”

“Are you sure?”

He shrugged. “I’m pretty sure. It was a
heist that I paid careful attention to. It was totally something
out of the Thomas Crown Affair or something. They took priceless
art and jewelry and replaced everything with exact replicas.”

“I think I remember that on E! or something.
The top ten art heists of all time.”

“I could swear that bracelet was part of it.
But maybe it’s a replica.”

Part of his job was to know when to back
off. And he was flirting with that line. Ignoring the pang of
guilt, he added, “I only remember 'cause my girlfriend at the time
was obsessed with getting a knock off.”

Jessica wrinkled her nose. “Girlfriend
huh?”

Eli smirked. “She was a hag really.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet. Not to say that I trust the
guy, but he’s hardly young enough or fit enough to pull off a
heist. I’m sure it just looks like it. But shoot, if it was the
bracelet, it would be a quick way to get him out of my life for
good.”

Eli shrugged. “You never know about people,
I guess.” If he was reading her right, she’d look into that
bracelet. If Michael was connected to Samson somehow and connected
to the bracelet, maybe they finally had a break in the case. But
the jewelry case had been dead for years, according to Vince.

He parked in front of her house and turned
the engine off.

She blinked up at him from under lowered
lashes. “Thanks for tonight. I didn’t know it was going to be
torture time. Though knowing my mother, I should have guessed.”

Every cell and nerve ending in Eli’s body
stood at attention. The look she was giving him said fuck me. But
she held herself at an arm’s length. He could be the calm,
controlled gentleman he’d learned to be, or he could do the one
thing he’d been dying to do all night. He’d also made a promise not
to touch her, until she asked.

“You want to tell me what’s wrong?”

“My mother has a way of getting to me.”

“She’s proud of you, Jessica.”

“Oh, really? That’s why she always invites
Destiny to events and tells me that’s how I should run my
business.” She rubbed the end of her nose. “Apparently, my tats and
feathers hurt my career. Speaking of Destiny, the two of you were
chatting for a bit.”

Eli shrugged. “I happen to like the
feathers. And you don’t have anything to worry about. She made her
play. I turned her down. I prefer my manager to have a few more
scruples.”

Jessica chewed her bottom lip. “I appreciate
that.”

He shrugged. “Besides, I believe in an
underdog.”

She made a noncommittal sound. “She has more
experience.”

“She’s not you. I did my research. I only
want the best.”

She gave him a small smile. “You don’t
strike me as an alternative kind of guy.”

Eli laughed. “Wondering what I’m doing with
you?”

“Kinda.”

“You make me feel something.” In a quieter
voice he added, “I’ve been numb for a long time.”

“Okay, can I ask you something else?”

“Shoot.” She could ask, but he wasn’t sure
he could answer honestly.

“What should I expect from your exhibition?
We haven’t really discussed it, and I, uh, I’ve seen your show
obviously. If you need anything else to, erm, perform, I should
know.”

Eli’s skin prickled. He’d expected the
question eventually, and he’d discussed it with Samson. That didn’t
stop the guilt from worming its way around his intestines. “I
paint.”

Her lips thinned. “I know that, but come on,
I’ve seen your work. It’s dark and bold and sensual. But it’s the
actual mechanics I’m struggling to understand.”

Eli sat back and shut his eyes. He’d seen
Sam at work, and it was intense. He also knew how it affected every
woman in the room. Even the women who pretended to be offended or
shocked all got a flush in their cheeks and parted their lips. They
thought he was hot. Jessica would think he was hot. Eli cleared his
throat.

“I use a model as part of my canvas. I paint
with her.”

Jessica expelled a shuddering breath. “Her
body is canvas and brush. I’ve seen.”

Eli nodded. His lids fluttered open, and he
turned his head to look at her. “Yes.”

A pink blush stained her cheeks, and he
clamped his jaw shut to keep from cursing. She was thinking about
him, Samson, pouring paint on a naked woman. Essentially making
love to her with his hands and producing a piece of artwork with
the paint. She was turned on. The air around them crackled like
tiny sparklers had been lit.

This was how she would look at his brother
in the next couple of weeks. If he kept lying to her, Samson would
get this look. It wasn’t for him, Eli. There was nothing he could
do to put this look on her face. “I’m obviously not having sex with
the model or anything, but it’s about the illusion behind the silk
screen.”

Her lips formed an O. Absentmindedly, she
played with one of the skull rings on her fingers. “And we—uh, we
should play up the mystique. The press will love it. Two of the art
patrons I was talking to you about will literally fight over your
work. I’m anticipating actual fists being thrown.” She cleared her
throat. “Do you, uh, ever, you know, get to know the model?”

What the hell was she asking? “Sassy, spit
it out.”

She sighed. “Well, it looks like you’re
going down on the model.”

He blinked.
Oh.
He
couldn’t help laughing. “I assure you, I’m not going down on the
model.” He’d helped Samson with the act, and his brother assured
him that he’d never actually been intimate with any of the models.
In that regard, he was all about the work.

Her voice was high. “Good. That’s great. Let
the patrons draw their own conclusions.”

“And you? How will you feel watching me
work?”

Her startled blue gaze met his. Well shit.
He’d already blown their little deal to not make things too
serious. “Are you going to fight anyone over my work?”

Straight white teeth peeked out as she
sucked in her bottom lip. “I’m likely to fight the model, but then
every man in there would be watching us and not paying attention to
your work. And that’s not what we want.”

He leaned into her. She met him half way.
“Sam—” she started, then amended, “Eli, you hired me to do a job,
and I’m going to do it to the best of my ability. And we are
keeping this chemistry between us casual, but that does not mean I
won’t be ready to cut a bitch if I see her hands all over you.
Hell, I’m sure half the women there will be ready to kill the model
out of pure jealousy.”

“Is that your way of saying you want
me?”

“Yes, but you already knew that. The
question is what am I’m supposed to do about that?”

Eli sat back. He’d said he would give her
some room, and he would. “We have some time to figure it out. Why
don’t you tell me why you hate Michael?”

Jessica pursed her lips. “Well, not much to
tell yet. I have a PI looking into him.”

Ok. That was a surprise. “I take it Mia
doesn’t know about the PI.”

“Are you kidding me? She’d flip out.
Sometimes she can act like a hormonal teenager.”

Eli grinned. “You surprise me. I think I
like this no-nonsense side of you. It’s hot.”

She shook her head and pale blonde hair
swung over her shoulders. “You’ve met my mother. She has this way
of only seeing what she wants in people. Most of the time it’s
good, because she’ll give just about anybody a chance; sometimes a
second chance. But can you see how that would also be bad?”

He quirked an eyebrow. “I would have thought
you were all down for the free spirited, love everybody vibe
too.”

She snorted. “Don’t let the tats and
piercings fool you. I’m still my father’s daughter. I generally see
people for who they really are. And I keep my head straight. I’m
whimsical sometimes, but I’m no airhead. Dad knew that.” She
shrugged. “He figured I’d keep some idiot from stealing every dime
he left my mom.”

“And I guess you’ve been doing a pretty good
job of it.”

“Why don’t you let anyone photograph
you?”

He shook his head, confused by the abrupt
subject change. He shrugged. “Part of the mystique, I guess. I also
like my privacy.” There. At least that part was the truth. Not like
he could tell her he couldn’t let Samson’s past catch up with
him.

“You’re going to have to get over the
privacy angle. Once we have these exhibits, everyone is going to
know your name.”

Eli ground his teeth. It was the risk they’d
discussed. While Sam was rebuilding his career, they’d opted to
keep a low profile on him. No need for the media to start a frenzy
over his past before he’d had a chance to reestablish himself.
Besides, Samson was more stable now. Even if his past caught up
with him, it didn’t mean he would spiral down. Not as long as Eli
was there. He changed the subject. “Enough about my privacy
concerns. How’d a nice girl like you become an artist manger?”

She sucked on her bottom lip again, and Eli
was riveted by the motion, the light tug of her bottom lip into her
mouth. He swallowed around the lump in his throat.

Jessica toyed with the hem of her skirt.
“Well, I’ve always loved art. Growing up, my parents’ house was
almost as good as a museum. They had some renaissance and
impressionist art, but they also had sculpture and pop art. They
basically bought whatever they liked. They patronized the arts,
gave money, supported new artists. I’ve been in that world my whole
life.”

He frowned. “You ever give any thought to
being an artist yourself?”

She shrugged. “The mind is willing, the body
is not. I’ve just never had the talent.”

“Here’s a secret for you. Talent is in the
eye of the beholder. You should see what critics have said about
some of my early performances.”

“Oh, I’ve read it.”

He barked out a laugh. “And you wanted to
represent me anyway?”

She gave a sharp nod. “Your work moves me.
And it’ll move other people. You might have been a referral, but
you are wholeheartedly my find. All I’d heard was that you used
your paint in your performance art.”

“That still doesn’t explain how you got
here. Representing a guy you’re not even sure you like.”

She grinned. “Well, I bounced along in
college, and had no idea what I wanted to do with myself. Even when
I started graduate school, I still had no idea what I was going to
do. Then I got job as a photographer’s assistant. That’s how I met
Izzy.”

He drew his eyebrows up. “Yeah, I know her
work. I always thought Z Con was a guy.”

“Nope. So anyway, when her last manager left
her in a lurch, I sort of took over, and she made me her full time
manager. I figured I could spread out a little, so I started taking
on some additional clients last year. It’s a better fit than
anything I’ve tried before.”