Carrie Alexander – Taste Me (страница 7)

Nikki clapped her hands. “A feature article! Yippee!”

“Hold on. I didn’t say you’d be writing the article. The first step is gathering background information.”

“But why can’t I write the article?” Nikki climbed onto a desk chair on her knees. “No way am I doing the drudge work so some other writer can sashay in and slap their name on my story.”

“That’s how it’s done.” Sometimes, but not for a relatively minor piece like this one. Mia Kerrigan might get a three-paragraph blurb. The focus of the layout would be on her luscious works of art.

Nikki leaned forward and put her elbows on his desk. Her boots stuck up in the air behind her. “Please let me write the article.” She reached a hand across his desk. Batted her lashes. “Pretty please.”

He gave her hand a pat, feeling very fatherly except for his motivations. Those were, well, sort of sleazy. But Nikki was an easygoing kid. She’d laugh if she found out his motive was dating and mating Mia. So…why not get two birds with one stone?

“We’ll see,” he said, “if you’re responsible and thorough about gathering the preliminary research.”

Nikki popped up. “Fab!” She went and grabbed her bag—a slim leather clutch now that Frodo was ensconced at the beach house with their mom—and pulled out a wafer-thin PDA. She stood with poised stylus. “What’s the deal? Got a name and number?”

Julian turned on the phone and buzzed his executive assistant, Dustin Sheppard. “Shep, will you call Petra Lombardi over at…her office and get Mia Kerrigan’s number for Nikki?”

“For Nikki?” came the disembodied voice.

She made a face at the intercom, temporarily holstering the stylus.

“I’m sending her on assignment. She’ll be out in a minute.” Julian checked his schedule. “Send my next appointment in as soon as she leaves.”

“Yessir. Whatevah you say, sir.”

Julian disconnected. “Wiseass.”

“Who, me?” Nikki laughed. “Is there anything you can tell me about this artist? Like, what does she do, since it’s a fashion layout—paint fabric? What’s her name again?”

“Mia Kerrigan.” Instantly, Mia’s baby-doll face and full lips sprang to mind. They’d shared sweet candy kisses, but Julian figured Mia for being a tigress in bed. She had spark, verve, an electric energy. She had bite.

Nikki watched him through slitted eyes. “She must be a dog.”

“Not at all. What makes you say that?”

“Because you’d already have her number if she wasn’t.”

“You make me sound very superficial.”

“Oh, yes. I forgot. Females of any shape, form or species are fair game to the man who would be the World’s Greatest Lover. Is she married?”

“Not as far as I know.” Julian frowned. “And watch your mouth.”

Nikki strutted to the door. “Julian, luv, regardless of deathbed promises, you’re not my father.”

“But I am your older brother and I do hold the purse strings.” Their father had put Julian in control of the estate, though he had no authority over the trust funds that were released as each sibling reached age twenty-five. Very was going through hers like water.

“Give me some credit,” Nikki said. “For once, I’m trying to earn money instead of spend it.”

“And I’m proud of you.” Julian joined her at the door. He kissed her cheek, relieved that she hadn’t noticed how he’d avoided the question about Mia’s career. Nikki would find out about the body painting soon enough, but he wanted her to think the potential layout and article were for a fashion magazine, not Hard Candy. “I expect you’ll do a fine job.”

“Thanks.” Nikki hugged him. She’d always been an affectionate girl. Even when she’d sent a strippergram to a board meeting on his birthday, Julian couldn’t help forgiving her. He felt the same way about the rest of the aggravating Silk women. If he hadn’t cared so much for them, the burden of his father’s expectations might be too heavy to contemplate. As it was, Julian managed by telling himself that at least he never doubted that they loved him back, even if they were doing their best to turn him gray before his time.

THE NEXT DAY, Mia was sitting on the top rung of scaffolding in a Riverside Drive ballroom when Nikki Silk arrived. The Gormans’ butler—an honest-to-goodness butler even though he was dressed casually since the owners weren’t in residence—announced the visitor with a twinge of annoyance before bowing out, firmly shutting the double doors behind him. Mia made a mental note to thank the old guy for looking after her on his downtime, even if he was only guarding her from stealing the silver.

“Hello?” the visitor called.

Mia switched off the hip-hop music blasting from her portable disk player. “Give me a sec,” she bellowed, misjudging her volume. She nudged away the earphones. “I have to finish the gold-leafing while the sizing is tacky.”

“That’s all right. I can watch.”

Mia glanced down at the rookie journalist whose face was turned up toward the ceiling arches. Nikki Silk was young, pretty and dressed like a crackpot Daisy Mae in a flared denim miniskirt, short white leather jacket and ankle boots with teeter-totter heels.

“I guess you’re related to Julian?” Mia pounced her horsehair brush on the gold leaf she’d just applied. Small flakes drifted down onto Nikki’s hair and face.

“Cool,” she said, puffing at one of the snippets of gold. “I’m his sister.”

Aha. Interesting. “He sent you here?”

“Well, he gave me the assignment.”

“Is he serious?” When Nikki had called yesterday, Mia had felt suspicious enough of Julian’s motives to consider denying the interview request. But if the proposed article was legit, the opportunity was too good to pass up.

Nikki put her hands on narrow hips. “Is there something wrong with me?”

“Not you. I meant the article. Is he serious about the article?”

“He’d better be.” Nikki cocked a leg and crossed her arms. Her boot tapped the marble floor. “I’ll shave his eyebrows while he’s sleeping if he’s setting me up.”

Mia wasn’t reassured. “Setting you up? Is that something he does frequently?”

“Not really, but he doesn’t take me very seriously.”

Mia thought of the women who reportedly dropped in and out of his love life like ducks at a shooting gallery. “What does he take seriously?”

Nikki picked a shred of gold leaf off her lip. “Lots of stuff,” she admitted. “If you want to know the truth, he’s kind of a bore, working all the time and giving orders. He thinks he’s the boss of me, but he’s not.” She reconsidered. “Except I guess he would be if I get on to the Hard Candy staff.”

“Then you’re not already?” Definitely a setup, Mia decided as she peeled off another sheet of leafing, carefully laid it on the last bit of ungilded arch and pounced the brush to fill the crevices of the carving. She just couldn’t figure out what game Julian was up to.

Nikki’s voice rose to the twenty-four-foot domed ceiling. “I might as well confess. This is my first story.”

Mia peered through the scaffolding. “We all have to start somewhere.”

“Yes, but now that I’ve met you…” Nikki grew silent as she looked around the ballroom. Even littered with painting tarps, ladders and assorted supplies, it was an amazing room. Tall dove-gray walls were adorned with gilded French-style molding. The stone floor was flecked in gray, black and pink. Sconces and elaborate wall candelabra dripped crystals that matched the immense chandelier, presently shrouded in a protective linen covering.

“What’s the problem?” Mia prodded.

“I’m confused. I thought you were involved in fashion, somehow. Julian tried to steer me toward working for a Silk fashion mag…” Nikki shook her head, gesturing at the room. “But you’re a—a—”

“Decorative painter. I do a little of everything—trompe l’oeil, gilding, faux effects, murals.”

“That’s great, but I can’t imagine what kind of a fashion layout he’s thinking of.” Nikki looked up at Mia, her eyes growing wide. One side of her mouth lifted. “Or maybe I can imagine. That dog.”

“Really.” Mia set aside her brush and the packet of leafing and started to climb down. “You mentioned Hard Candy, so I thought you knew about me.”

Nikki stepped away from the rattling scaffolding. “Julian didn’t say much at all. He might even have been secretive, now that I think about it.”

Mia swung her body down the last few rungs and dropped to the floor. “Why is that?” she asked.

At the same moment Nikki said, “What does Hard Candy have to do with decorative painting?” She frowned. “Or fashion.”

Mia studied Julian’s sister, who was six or seven inches taller and at least fifteen pounds lighter than herself, reed thin in the way of young girls and anorexic ballerinas. She liked Nikki anyway. The girl had marched in here for an interview despite her lack of experience. There was moxie in those willowy genes. Maybe resilience.

“There’s been a mix-up of some sort,” Mia said, taking a flier that she could trust Nikki not to run back to her brother and tell all. “We need to share our information.”

Nikki nodded. “And get the better of Julian.”

“Is he putting one over on me?”

“One of us. Maybe.”

“Then let’s put our minds together. You start.”

“I think…” Nikki looked Mia up and down, taking in the corkscrew curls and splattered canvas apron. “Even though you’re not his usual, and he was playing it ultracool with me, he fancies you.”