Page 101 of Getting Down to Business
Chapter 20
Chanda was a wreck as she walked into the gallery alone. Doug promised he would be there for her exhibit. It was small, but she was excited to have her work displayed. And she wanted him to be there to share in the moment. Not to mention calm her nerves.
Where was he?
Blended Familywas in place under the spotlight. The caterers had set up the food and were pouring the wine as the first guests arrived. Still no sign of Doug.
Becca, the owner, took her around to greet people. She was introduced to some big art collectors. Time flew and her nerves calmed. She loved talking about art with people who knew the difference between Claude Monet and Edouard Manet.
“You sold a piece,” Becca whispered, barely containing herself. “And I think Blink is about to be sold as well. I’m so happy for you.”
“Thank you.” Chanda smiled and looked around the room, wanting to tell Doug about her sale. She pulled out her phone and texted:
Where are you?
Ten minutes later, she still hadn’t heard back. Her big night was over in twenty minutes and he was missing it.
Worry took the place of annoyance. Nothing would have stopped him from being here. Something had to be wrong. Was he hurt? Was it Lucy? He had planned to pick his daughter up and bring her to the show. Lucy had been so excited to have a place to wear her sparkly new dress.
Chanda’s breath caught when he walked through the door. She hurried through the crowd to get to him.
“Look at this turnout. I’m so proud of you, Chan. Have you sold anything?”
“Three pieces. Where have you been? Where’s Lucy?”
“There was an incident when I went to get her. She’s fine. I don’t want to talk about it now. This is your night.” He frowned at his phone. “For a little while longer anyway. I’m so sorry I’m late. And I ordered you flowers, but I didn’t have time to pick them up.”
Something about him seemed stiff. Whatever it was that kept him, it was important, but he shook it off and put a smile on his face.
* * * *
Doug was still riled up. He could feel his blood pounding in irritation. The nerve of that guy to step in. Letting out a breath, he gave Chanda another smile just as she was pulled away to go talk to someone.
He nodded that it was fine and spotted someone carrying a tray of hors d’oeuvres.
Food would calm him. He picked off a sample of each and moved around to each of her pieces, scoring a glass of wine along the way.
He was standing behind one of the bigger pieces when he heard someone whispering. Since he was hidden and didn’t want to give up his spot, he stayed, focused intently on the mini-quiche.
“I wonder what her father is paying to put this on. She probably thinks she was asked here because of her talent.” The two people laughed at the comment and Doug swallowed down the lump of quiche.
“I heard her father paid for that sculpture and donated it to the Pressroom. There’s no way anyone else would have paid forty thousand dollars for that mess.”
Doug understood how jealousy caused people to be cruel and rude. But after the night he had, he had to do something. He couldn’t stand there hiding while these two idiots tore apart the woman he loved.
The only problem was that he didn’t know if their accusations were true. Chanda hadn’t spoken about her father other than to say he was a workaholic who had no time for her.
That didn’t mean he wasn’t rich.
Being a father himself, he knew how many boxes of cookies he personally bought so Lucy could get a pin on her sash. He would have bought every box because it was important to her.
Still, he was itching for a fight, and this guy would do.
“Excuse me?” Doug said, walking around the statue to address them face-to-face. “She works damn hard on these and they’re beautiful. Forty thousand is a steal for her work.”
The man sniffed at Doug. Sniffed.
Doug felt his fist connect with warm flesh. He heard a scream. He felt two hands push his chest. His world went sideways for a second, but he reached out to brace himself and came back swinging. Though the thing he’d braced himself on gave way.
