An Irresistible Bachelor (An Unforgettable Lady #2)(12)

He considered her for a moment. “You’re very honest. And you don’t let yourself get pushed around, do you?”

Callie’s mouth almost dropped open. Both because he seemed to approve of her candidness and because he was so off base.

How little he knew, she thought, putting the knife down. She’d had to absorb the fallout from her mother’s emotional theatrics for years. She’d accepted being relegated to a shameful footnote in her father’s life without ever challenging him or telling him how much it hurt. Hell, she’d taken the brunt of Stanley’s peevish nature day after day without sticking up for herself.

But Jack Walker didn’t need to know all that. And she was quite content to relish his misunderstanding in private.

“Why is it so important that I work for you?” she asked abruptly.

He picked up his cup and she saw his gold cuff links flash.

“We all need a start in life,” he said. “You’ve worked hard and you deserve a chance to make a name for yourself. You’ve interned with some of the best in the field, but you need to branch out and do something that’ll get you noticed. Make your mark.”

It was sound advice and a generous inclination on his part. But she didn’t know him and he didn’t owe her, and that meant the pat explanation didn’t hold water. She wondered if Grace had said something. Was he doing this as a favor to her?

“What did Grace tell you about me?” she asked.

He regarded her evenly. “That you’re a friend of hers. That you’re talented. That it was important to her for you to have a chance at this project. Why?”

“Nothing.” She tried to sort through the implications of Grace having a hand in her career. She appreciated the support, although she’d have preferred to get the job solely on her own merits. But maybe she had. Jack Walker didn’t seem the type who’d hire anyone on the basis of sentimentality.

And now she better understood why he’d tracked her down.

“Is there a problem?” he asked as she stayed silent.

“I just don’t want to be a charity case,” she blurted.

He frowned and then laughed.

“Then you’ll be pleased to know that my lack of philanthropic interest is legendary. You’ve got the credentials and you’re going to work for every penny. My money’s far too important to me to have it any other way.” He gestured at her clothes. “Besides, if you can afford to wear Chanel, you’re not exactly starving. Although I have to say, I’m surprised you have a workshop in such a worn-down building.”

“Workshop?”

He frowned. “The one in Chelsea.”

Callie almost laughed. He thought she worked where she lived? It was certainly conceivable. There were a lot of artists’ studios in her neighborhood.

She was about to disabuse him of the error when she decided to keep quiet. There was no reason to tell the man her life story, and if he thought she had money, it worked in her favor by putting them on more equal footing.

As she fell silent again, he let out a frustrated noise. “Fine, no more chitchat. When can you start?”

“As soon as you want me to.”

“Can you be in Boston the day after tomorrow?”

“Boston?” She stiffened.

“The painting is going to be shipped to my home on Tuesday.”

“Oh. I’d assumed it would stay here.”

“I don’t live here.”

“But you could have the portrait bonded and leave it with me,” she said hopefully.

“That’s not what I had in mind.”

And she could tell his mind was made up. “This changes everything.”

“Why?”

“All my contacts are here. My, ah, work space. My tools.”

“None of that will be a problem,” he said smoothly.

Maybe not for him, she thought.

“I’ll see to everything for you,” he continued. “And I’d like you to stay at Buona Fortuna while you work.”

“Where?”

“My house. Buona fortuna means good fortune in Italian. My great-great-grandmother had a fondness for the Renaissance period.” He took another croissant from the basket. “I’m going to dedicate studio space to you, get you whatever equipment you need. You can set up everything exactly as you want it.”

She pictured herself sleeping under the same roof as him and the pool of heat that set up shop in her stomach made her want to get away from the man, not move in with him.

“I don’t know whether that would be such a good idea. It could be at least six weeks. That’s a long time for a guest.”

“True. But it’s a big house.”

Yeah, well, the damn thing could be the size of a football field and it would still be too small, she thought.

“I don’t know.”

“I won’t charge you for the hospitality,” he said with disapproval. “If that’s what you’re worried about. I’ll still pay you the same.”

And then he named a price that almost made her fall out of the chair.

With that kind of money, she wouldn’t have to worry about rent for a year and then some. She’d be able to do a job search in comfort. She could start a nest egg.

Callie tried to keep her voice level. “That’s very generous.”