Manhattan Merger

There he was. The embodiment of her dreams come to life on a piece of canvas:

Rich dark brown hair that looked vibrant to the touch.

Nordic blue eyes that seemed to envision things no one else could even imagine.

Rugged facial features denoting a life of hard work, sacrifice and triumphs.

The build and stance of a conquerer beneath his business suit. Someone who dared to explore new frontiers.

A man who hadn’t yet been transformed by a woman’s love…

Perhaps because his total persona had enchanted her, she’d managed to breathe life into him. Enough life that she’d just been told this particular cover had taken first prize among all the covers on romance novels published by the various companies in the U.S. over the last twelve months.

The romance writing industry was going to present her with an award in August. Bonnie Wrigley, the author, would also receive an award for writing Manhattan Merger, chosen the best romance novel from the Touch of Romance line.

Much as Rainey was thrilled by this honor, she coveted this particular rendering of the man in the painting too much to part with it.

When Bonnie Wrigley had made inquiries to the art department for its purchase, Rainey had told Don it wasn’t for sale. But she’d urged him to tell Ms. Wrigley that if it happened Rainey was the artist chosen to do another cover for her, she could have that painting for a minimal fee.

The phone rang again. Rainey rushed to answer it.

“Don?”

“No. It’s Grace Carlow, the senior attorney in the legal department at Red Rose Publishing. I just got off the phone with Don and decided to call you myself.”

Though the window air conditioner worked well, Rainey felt perspiration bead her forehead.

“Thanks for getting back to me so fast. I have to admit I’m a little anxious.”

“After talking to Don, I think we’re going to be all right. Where are you?”

“Near Eighty-Sixth Street and Lexington.”

“That’s good. Can you be at my office by ten?”

Rainey’s green eyes widened. “You mean today?”

“Absolutely. The sooner we put out this fire, the better.”

That didn’t sound good.

“I’ll explain when you get here. Come to the second floor. Make a left. I’m at the end of the hall.”

The line went dead.

With heart pounding, Rainey showered and dressed in a straw colored wraparound skirt and pale blue cotton top. She brushed her gilt-blond hair which had been styled in a feather cut, slid on sandals and flew out the door of her furnished studio apartment.

There was no elevator, however the stairs were carpeted. She hurried down three flights to the entrance of the pre-World War II building, calling out hello to several people who lived there.

She’d been lucky to find a place this close to the Metropolitan Museum. Her rent might be horrible, and the landlord didn’t allow pets which forced her to leave her dog behind with her parents. However this was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

If things didn’t work out and her commissions fell off, she’d go back to Colorado. But she didn’t anticipate that happening anytime soon.

So far the conversation with the attorney had sounded the only discordant note since she’d moved here four months ago.

After living in a small town all her life, she felt tiny walking between the skyscrapers. New York was like being in a different universe with every race and type of person represented. She loved the explosion of humanity amid the famous landmarks. Rainey loved the smells and sounds.

She loved Manhattan.

There was a pulse throbbing here. She was now a part of it. That’s what made every day exciting.

Until today.

Since the phone call she’d had this awful pit in her stomach.

What if she’d done something so terrible, her happiness would be taken away?

Fear made her walk faster.

She entered Red Rose Publishers and took the stairs to the second floor. After reaching the end of the hall she entered the legal department and walked over to the front desk.

“I’m Lorraine Bennett. Grace Carlow is expecting me.”

A young female receptionist told her to go on back to the first door on her left. Rainey complied.

“Good! You’re on time.” The attorney waved her inside. She was a tall, big-boned woman who was probably in her early sixties. She wore a white pantsuit with a black and white houndstooth print blouse. From the crown of her upswept blond hair she pulled down her glasses and studied Rainey for a moment.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-seven.”

“You don’t look a day over twenty-one. Lucky you. Call me Grace.” She smiled and extended her hand which Rainey shook. “Sit down.”

Rainey took the chair opposite her desk. “I take it I’ve painted a celebrity by accident.”

The woman made a funny noise in her throat. “Ever heard of the Sterling bank of America?”

She bit her lip. “Who hasn’t?”

“Ever heard of Sterling Shipping lines?”

Rainey’s body started to feel heavier in the chair. She nodded.

“Ever hear of U.S. Supreme Court Justice Richard Sterling?”

“Yes,” Rainey whispered.

“Ever hear of Senator Phyllis Sterling-Boyce? Ambassador Lloyd Sterling? Rear Admiral Daniel Sterling?”