Manhattan Merger

Her eyes closed tightly for a moment. “Of course.”

By now Rainey was squirming.

Grace handed her a recent publication of World Fortune Magazine. “The whole lot of them don’t even count compared to this Sterling.”

Rainey took one look at the man on the cover and gasped.

King of Glass New York Billionaire-soon-to-be-Trillionaire Payne Sterling discovers ancient burial ground while mucking about with fiber-optic cable in his underworld kingdom close to Wall Street.

She read the caption twice before she studied the man in hard hat and jeans resting against an enormous cable.

Like pure revelation she understood why she’d been so drawn to him that she’d felt compelled to put his face and body to canvas.

“Oh boy.” Rainey’s voice shook before she handed the magazine back to Grace.

The attorney eyed her with compassion. “Oh boy is right. He’s the embodiment of one of the sons of the Earl of Sterling who left England for America to build an empire of his own.”

She tapped the cover. “This one shuns publicity like it was the plague of mankind, but he’s so damned attractive it still comes after him, innocently or otherwise.”

She winked at Rainey who groaned out loud.

“Cynthia Taft, the newest attorney to join our staff, handled Manhattan Merger while I was on a leave of absence. She came to us from Los Angeles and probably didn’t catch the likeness because Payne Sterling is a celebrity in a very different pond than that of Hollywood.

“When I returned, I noticed his likeness on the cover and brought it to Claud’s attention. However he said not to worry about it because there’d been no trouble with the other covers. What was done, was done, and this wouldn’t be the first time an artist had unwittingly painted a cover that resembled a real person.”

“Except that I did draw his face from memory,” Rainey admitted.

“According to Don, you do that quite often.”

“Yes.”

“As I told you on the phone, I think we’re going to be fine, but it will take the rest of the day to prepare our case.”

Her pulse raced faster. “Case?”

“His attorney has already filed papers with the court. A judge is going to hold a closed door hearing tomorrow at two o’clock, so we have our work cut out.”

“What?” Rainey cried out aghast. “You mean he’s suing me?”

“You, the author Bonnie Wrigley and Red Rose Publishers.”

“Good heavens—”

Grace’s eyebrows lifted. “Don’t forget you’re dealing with a Sterling. The name moves mountains. But not to worry. He won’t win.

“By the way, who’s the person at Global Greeting Cards who will give us an affidavit to the effect that you haven’t put Mr. Sterling on any of their products?”

That was easy. “Saul Goldberg.”

She nodded. “I know Saul. Good man. All right. First things first. If we can get your mother and brother here in twenty-four hours, let’s do it. Red Rose will be paying their expenses.”

“Mom could come. But I don’t know if it’s possible to reach my brother in time.”

Grace eyed her intently. “Try. Mr. Sterling’s attorney, Drew Wallace, is the best there is if you know what I mean. He’s pulled this in the hope of catching us un-prepared, but we’ll show him.”

Rainey admired the other woman’s grit. Though she didn’t know anything about Grace Carlow, she had an idea the attorney was actually enjoying this.

“I’ll have to phone the company Craig works for and see if they can find him. My mother knows the number.”

“As long as you’re phoning her, tell her to bring that photograph with her. One more thing. Don said you do preliminary sketches before you start your paintings. Where are your drawings of Mr. Sterling?”

She gave Grace a sheepish glance. “The old ones are stored at my parents’ home.”

“Do you have pictures of them on disk?”

“No, only the finished portraits. Those disks are at my apartment.”

“I see. Tell your mother to bring the drawings too. When you get back to your apartment, burn the new ones!” she fired.

Rainey could weep for the sketches she’d done of him in cowboy gear as recently as three days ago. Sketches that would never appear on another book cover.

“Use my phone while I have a talk with Cynthia who’s trying to track down Bonnie Wrigley. I’ll be back in a minute to depose you.”

As soon as Grace left the room, Rainey hurried around the desk to call home. It was only quarter after eight in Grand Junction. Her father was a dentist and had probably left for his office already. He would have to get his partner to cover for him so he could drive her mom to the Denver airport with the requested items.

Later in the year, after all his little patients were back in school, her folks had plans to fly out to New York. They were going to spend time taking in the sights, then rent a car and drive Rainey through New England to see the turning of the leaves.

As it stood, her mom, and possibly her brother, were going to get an unexpected sneak preview of New York from the inside of a courtroom.

“Good news,” Grace announced ten minutes later. “Bonnie Wrigley will be at our office in the morning. How are things on your end?”

“Mom will fly in tonight with the items we need. The company Craig works for knows where he is and will get back to my father. Dad will call your office to let us know what’s happening.”

“Excellent. What do you want for lunch? They have great goulash and cheesecake at the deli down the street.”

“That sounds good.”

“Are you a coffee drinker?”

“No. Water or juice is fine.”

She nodded before buzzing her secretary.

“All right.” Grace sat forward with her fingers interlinked on top of the desk. “What Mr. Wallace will do is try to show that Red Rose Publishers willfully broke the law by using his client’s likeness on the covers for monetary gain without obtaining his permission.

“He’s asked us to bring the figures on the sales of those books to show that revenues went up when his client appeared on the covers.”

“This is all my fault,” Rainey whispered, feeling more and more ill by the moment. “He should be taking me to court, not the company.”