bit his bottom lip, then ran his teeth over it. “If my brother had knocked on your door, you’d have nailed it.” He shrugged. “But hey, you got the tall part right.”
“That’s something, I guess.”
She picked up her pencil and tossed her hair over her shoulder and David’s pulse went berserk. Damn, this woman was beautiful. And not in the normal way. This was more corn-fed, casual beauty that she probably had no idea she possessed.
She angled her notepad in front of her. “Anyway, tell me about this project. What kind of paintings are you looking for?”
Nudes.
Of her.
His mother would castrate him. He cleared his throat and got that vision out of his head. The naked Amanda, not the castration. But the castration was no picnic, either.
But here was where this scenario got sticky because his sneaky mother, God bless her, had taken Amanda’s card under the guise of providing him with art for his condo. Well, he’d get the art anyway because he would not waste this woman’s time under false pretenses. “I’m not sure. I was thinking maybe we could work with Lexi on that. Something bold, deep colors. I don’t know. It’s not my thing. That’s why I have Lexi.”
“She’s good at it, that’s for sure. I can call her. Then I’ll pull some paintings I think will work. If you don’t like them, maybe I can create something specific for you.”
Which, lucky him, would give him another reason to show up and maybe convince the lovely Amanda LeBlanc to have dinner with him. “That’ll work. I have another project that my mother is interested in.”
Amanda’s eyebrows hitched up. No surprise there. His mother was notorious for spending big bucks on decorating. And landing her as a client would open a lot of doors when it came to an artist’s career.
“What does she have in mind?”
“A sculpture.”
“Oh, my specialty. Who will the sculpture be of?”
Here we go. “We don’t know.”
She laughed. “That’s a new one. All right. I’ll play. How do we find out who this sculpture will be of?”
Okay. So apparently his mother hadn’t said anything—at all—to Amanda about her interest in the cold case discussed at the fund-raiser the night before. She’d totally set him up, and he’d give her an earful about that. When he showed up wearing jeans and facial hair at dinner. That’d teach her. “Did my mother say anything to you about my father’s law firm and their side work?”
“No.”
Thanks, Mom. This right here might be one of the reasons he’d moved to Boston four years ago. Keeping up with the Hennings family shenanigans and the constant arguing and petty competition with Penny made his brain hurt. So he’d taken off. Got himself breathing room halfway across the country. Welcome home, kid.
“My dad is the founding partner of Hennings & Solomon.”
“David, everyone in this city knows who your dad is.”
True. “Right. Last fall my mom convinced him to have one of the firm’s investigators work on a pro bono case. A cold case.”
Amanda sat forward and waved her pencil. “I read about that. It involved a US Marshal or something.”
“That’s the one. His mother was murdered and the case, up to that point, was unsolved. The firm’s investigator looked into it, and between her and the victim’s son, they solved the case.”
“Yes! I remember reading about it. Fascinating.”
Glad you think so. That would only help when he ambushed her with doing this skull reconstruction his mother was so bent on. “Then my mother found another case she wanted to help solve.”
“Your mother is a busy woman.”
Honey, you have no idea. “She is. And her instincts are spot-on because the firm managed to help solve that one, too.”
“How wonderful for her. And the firm’s investigator must be excellent at what she does.”
“She is. But she’s had help. Cases like this take work and she comes from a family of detectives with major contacts.”
Amanda sat up straighter, pencil still at the ready, but her body language—stiff shoulders, pressed lips—went from curious to defensive. The temperature in the room might have plummeted to negative numbers.
This was it. Headfirst. Right here. “My mother overheard your conversation with the detective last night. The one with the unidentified skull.”
She dropped her pencil and pushed the pad away. She held her hands up and sucked in her cheeks, the look hard and unyielding, transforming her from the lush sex kitten he wanted his hands on to a woman set for battle.
Where the hell had she been all his life?
“No,” she said.
“I’m afraid my mother has you on her radar. And you’re locked on.”
“She’ll have to unlock me, then. I explained to the detective last night that I couldn’t do the sculpture. I have limited, insanely limited, experience with forensic sculptures. I’ve taken a couple of workshops, but I’ve never attempted a forensic reconstruction. I’m simply not qualified.”
“If you’ve never tried, how do you know you can’t do it?”
She set her palms flat on the table, the tips of her fingers burrowing into the wood and turning pink. “David, I’m sorry. Tell your mother I appreciate her following up on this, but my answer is no. It would be a waste of everyone’s time. The painting for your new home, I’d be happy to do.”
“Great. But indulge me on the reconstruction for a second.”
Amanda huffed out a breath, half laughing but not really. In a way, he felt bad for her. He knew exactly how pushy the Hennings bunch could be. “Trust me,” he said. “I feel your pain.”
“Are you a lawyer like the rest of your family?”
“I am.”
“Knew it. You have that lawyer tenacity.”
He grinned. “I’m civil law. Everyone else is on the criminal side. But since I have that lawyer tenacity, I’d like to make you a deal.”
“No.”
Time to try a different approach because he wanted a dinner date with this woman and he liked sparring with her. Even if she didn’t know either of those things.
Yet.
He sat forward, angled his head toward the sculpture across the room and pointed. “Looking at that, I’d say you’re a talented woman.”
“Thank
