They smiled at the lunchtime tableau and began browsing through the Gallery I exhibit of beaded jewelry and headdresses.
The hot sausage and chili peppers on the pizza gave Daisy a moment’s pause. She was too hungry to resist, however, and found that they didn’t upset her stomach as much as she’d feared.
“I work a block away,” Chance explained to Sean. “I’m a family law attorney.”
“So how do you two know each other?” the young man asked guilelessly.
“His sister…”
“…lives next door…”
“…ran into each other…”
“…engagement party.”
They finished at the same time. Sean regarded them with a puzzled expression. “I see.”
“Actually, my interest in Daisy is partly professional.” Chance managed to eat his pizza without getting cheese on his chin, a trick that Sean hadn’t mastered, Daisy noted.
“She needs a lawyer?” the young man asked.
“Not my profession. Hers.” Chance handed around cups of soft drinks. “I need artwork for my house and I could use her expert advice.”
Daisy hoped he wasn’t suggesting that she visit his house again. She also hoped this wasn’t a ploy to get her back into his bed. “I could show you our portfolio of artists.”
The middle-aged couple stopped nearby. “Can I help you?” Daisy asked. When they nodded, Sean went to assist them in trying on jewelry.
“I need more than a few items.” Chance spoke coolly, in a low voice. “I’m a strong believer in seeing the big picture, and when it comes to art, I lack your ability to visualize a room in advance.”
Daisy took a deep breath. “From what I’ve seen of your house…”
“You’ll need to take another look. In daylight.” He wasn’t asking, she realized. Chance had made his decision and expected her to go along with it.
“But…”
“I want the whole effect carefully thought out. It’s going to involve getting a few items of new furniture, too, and repainting if necessary. I realize you’re not an interior designer, but the sculpture and paintings will be the focus.”
Daisy wanted to refuse. She didn’t like being railroaded, and she didn’t want to venture into Chance Foster’s house again.
Sitting across from him in her gallery, despite the nearness of Sean and the customers, her whole body sparkled with the man’s energy. The restraint in his gray eyes and elegant suit only emphasized the contours of his body and the potent sexuality she remembered all too vividly.
She wasn’t sure she could stay out of Chance’s bed. Alone in his house…
“We’re talking about a large expenditure,” he went on. “When I bought the house, I budgeted a considerable sum for art. It’s time I spent it.”
Unfair! she wanted to cry. Even a successful gallery like Native Art operated on a thin profit margin. She couldn’t afford to pass up this opportunity. Besides, Daisy owed it to her artists to do her best for them.
And, she recalled, that night when she entered his house, he’d apologized for the sparse furnishings and mentioned that one of these days he was going to buy paintings. So he wasn’t simply manipulating her.
She assumed an impersonal tone. “I represent dozens of artists. I’m sure we can find special pieces for you.”
The couple made a purchase and left, and Sean rejoined them. “What did I miss?”
“Miss Redford is going to take a look at my house this afternoon and make recommendations.” Chance wiped his hands on a napkin and stood up. “I leave work early on Fridays. Pick you up around three, all right? Nice to meet you, Sean.” With a friendly nod, he departed.
Daisy sat motionless, stunned. She hadn’t agreed to go to his house so soon, or to ride with him, either.
“Seems like a nice guy.” Sean took another bite of pizza. “Hey, don’t worry. Using your outline, I can get the show mounted by myself. Fridays are always slow anyway.”
“Let’s see how much progress we can make before three o’clock,” she said.
Daisy knew when she’d been outmaneuvered. Well, she could hold her own with Chance Foster and she was going to prove it to him.
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