“That’s easily fixed.”
She looked as if she wanted to continue to argue with him. Instead, she said, “Who were you thinking of pairing her with?”
“I’m not sure.” He was, but he wasn’t in the mood to share the information with Brenda just yet, especially since she’d obviously taken a dislike to Joanna.
“Well,” she said stiffly, “I still think you’re making a mistake. I also think you’re setting a precedent that you will regret.”
“You could be right, but we’ll have to agree to disagree this time.”
He turned to walk back into the office when she muttered, “I just hope you don’t expect me to introduce her to prospective buyers.”
Marcus stopped and just looked at her. Her head was bent over some papers, and even though he knew she knew he was looking at her, she didn’t look up. After a few seconds, Marcus continued into the office without saying anything more. Because he knew if he did, it would be something he might be sorry for later.
* * *
“So, how’d the meeting at the gallery go today?”
“Except for the fact that I don’t think Marcus Barlow likes me, it went fairly well.” Joanna explained about Marcus Barlow’s sister and her jewelry designs. “We’re having lunch together sometime next week to see how we get on.”
“Then what you said doesn’t make a lick of sense,” Georgie said. “If he didn’t like you, he would have shown you the door today.”
“That’s not necessarily true.”
“Why on earth do you think he doesn’t like you?”
“The way he looked at me, for one thing. It was obvious he disapproved of me.”
“Joanna, come on. You’re exaggerating, surely.”
“No, I’m not. I’m used to that look. Men either want to get me into bed or turn up their noses when they see me. There’s seldom a happy medium. And men like Marcus Barlow belong to the latter group. I’m surprised he even wants to give me a show.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake. Why would how you look have any bearing on his decision to give you a show? It’s your designs that will be shown, not you. I mean, I’ve seen the way some of the big-name designers look, and trust me, a lot of them are downright weird.”
“Yes, but this isn’t New York or Paris. This is Seattle.”
“Seattle’s not a cow town, you know. It’s considered very hip and cool.”
“By the people who live here, maybe.”
“Now you’re not making any sense at all. I can’t imagine that a man who would own a gallery like Up and Coming would be bothered because you look more avant-garde than conservative. Anyway, we could argue about this all day and get nowhere. So let’s move on. Tell me what he’s like—other than the fact that you think he doesn’t like you or approve of you.”
“In a nutshell, he’s handsome, arrogant and used to telling people what to do.”
“Arrogant? Really?”
“Really.”
“That’s funny.”
“What’s funny?”
“My mother said he was charming. She really liked him. And she’s a good judge of character.”
“What do you mean, your mother said he was charming? When did you talk to your mother about him?”
“I, uh...”
“Georgie, did your mother have anything to do with him calling me?”
“Well, I, um, may have mentioned something to her about him and the gallery and how you wanted to have a show there.”
“Georgie!”
“Jeez, Joanna, don’t get all worked up. It’s normal in the business world to use your contacts. Why shouldn’t you? Anyway, I don’t know if my mother called him or not. Didn’t you say he said something about getting your business card from that manager of his?”
“Yes, but—”
“Well, maybe he never talked to Mom. But even if he did, it’s not a big deal. He would never offer to give you a show unless he liked your work.”
“Maybe that’s why he wants to combine his sister’s work with mine. Maybe he thinks mine needs help.”
“I would think,” Georgie said, “if he wants to show your work along with his sister’s, that he really loves your work. I mean, his sister, Joanna.”
“I told him I wasn’t sure I wanted to have my models wearing her jewelry.”
“You did? Really?”
“Yep.”
Georgie laughed. “I can’t believe you sometimes. And what did he say to that?” She was still laughing.
“He said it would be my decision.”
“Then I have no idea what you’re worried about! Sounds to me like he was perfectly reasonable and nice to you.”
Joanna sighed. “On one level, I know you’re right. But on another, I just have this feeling.”
“What feeling?”
“That as far as my show is concerned, Marcus Barlow is going to want to have everything his way. And I’m not sure his way is my way. In fact, I’m sure it’s not.”
For a moment, Georgie didn’t say anything. When she did, Joanna could tell she was trying not to laugh again. “Sounds to me like there might be fireworks ahead.”
Joanna just hoped she wouldn’t be the one getting burned.
Chapter Four
“But, Marcus, I thought this was going to be my chance. I don’t want to share my show with someone else.”
Marcus had figured Vanessa wouldn’t be any more eager to share a show than Joanna had been, but his sister wasn’t really in any position to argue the point, not after her behavior last week.
“This isn’t fair,” she cried. “You’re just doing this to punish me because you’re still mad at me. You grounded me all weekend! Isn’t that enough?”
“I am not punishing you. Besides, combining the two shows isn’t cast in stone. If, after you meet her and see her designs, you still feel you don’t want to do a show with her, we’ll keep them separate. But I think combining the two will enhance the work of both of you, and I’d like you to consider it.”
“But I don’t have to do it if I don’t want to?”
“As I told Miss Spinelli, no, it’ll be your decision. Yours and hers.”
“So she’s not any more eager to combine shows than I am?” Her eyes brightened.
“She’s keeping an open mind. Now, will you take a look at her designs?”
Vanessa sighed. “Oh, all right, I’ll go look at her website now.”
Half an hour later, she came into the study where he was going over the household accounts. “Okay, I went to her website. And she does design beautiful clothes. They’re not the kinds of things I would ever want to wear, but I can see how they’d appeal to a lot of girls. Still, I don’t think—”
“They’re the kinds of things you should wear,” Marcus said, interrupting. He gave a disparaging glance at her torn jeans and tight, layered T-shirts. At five nine and