Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Boss? Page 16

  Toni closed her eyes and listened to the sound of Scott’s heartbeat. It was strong and clear and it beat for her and only her. She was certain of that now.

  It was so hard to step back from Scott but she could still feel his arms around her as she whispered, ‘I need to show you something. Okay?’

  Sliding away, she took hold of Scott’s hand and with one quick smile she led him into the bedroom and gestured for him to sit on the bed.

  ‘If this is a lingerie display I may have to call Freya and tell her that I’m missing dinner.’

  With a quick chuckle, Toni shook her head. ‘Sorry to disappoint you, but this is more of an art display.’

  Toni knelt down next to her bed and tugged an old battered leather suitcase out from underneath. Taking a long juddery breath, Toni slowly pressed the metal sliders away and felt the lid of the suitcase spring up as the pressure was released.

  Suddenly exhausted, Toni sat on the floor next to the suitcase with her back pressed against the bed and her legs outstretched in front of her.

  Slowly and with shaking hands, she lifted the suitcase lid and sat for a few moments in silence. Staring back at her was the sweet smiling face of the nine-year-old Amy. It was the last portrait that she had ever painted and signed under her own name. Lifting up the thin wooden light canvas, Toni smiled and stroked the edges as a freckle-faced happy girl with long hair and a turned-up nose and missing teeth grinned back at her.

  When she finally found the words Toni was speaking more towards the picture than to Scott but she knew that he was listening.

  ‘Every brush stroke of this painting was a delight. Our annual holiday had been in Cornwall for a couple of weeks the summer after I turned seventeen and we had all gone down to the beach for the afternoon. That was a rare event in itself. My father hated the sun and would much rather have stayed inside working on a commission he had to deliver the following week. It had been going too slowly and he couldn’t seem to concentrate on the work so Mother had suggested that he take the afternoon off.’

  Toni smiled to herself. ‘It turned out to be a wonderful day of happy relaxed laughter and fun and sheer pleasure. Not too hot. Not too windy. Perfect blue skies and golden sandy beach. It was only natural that I should take some photographs of Amy and my parents. I had never intended them to become sketches or paintings. But somehow the moment I lifted the camera and pointed it towards Amy everything changed. I called out her name...Amy turned towards me.’

  Toni flicked both hands in the air. ‘And bam. Just like that, I knew that the photograph would be wonderful. Not just good. But special and amazing. And that feeling was so astonishing and overwhelming that I started to cry.’

  ‘Cry? Why were you crying? Didn’t that make you happy?’

  ‘Yes. Amazingly, wonderfully happy. But it was sad at the same time. All my life I had been focusing and training on one thing—to be a painter and true artist like my parents. And in that moment, looking down that camera lens, I realized that it was all for nothing. Because I had never once felt that way with anything that I had painted. Not once. I could paint professionally any day of the week. And that’s not being immodest. It was the truth. But taking that photograph changed everything.’

  She glanced over her shoulder at Scott and smiled through the tears that were streaming down her face. ‘Until then I was Antonia Baldoni, little daughter of Aldo and Emily Baldoni. Painters. Artists. But that moment made me realize that I could take everything I had learnt and apply it to creating portraits and paintings with more than canvas and paint. I had found my passion. Just like you found yours.

  ‘I was so excited that I was jumping up and down and laughing and crying at the same time and generally making my parents fearful that something terrible had happened. I couldn’t wait to tell them. I thought that they would be so excited that I had found the artist in me.’

  ‘Oh, Toni. I know where this is going. My poor girl.’

  Her head dropped. ‘It came as a bit of a shock to realize that everything I believed about being part of a family of artists until that second was completely wrong. They were not excited for me at all. In fact they were horrified. Speechless with shock and horror. They felt it was a betrayal of my legacy. And then there was my dad’s work...’

  Her hands got busy lining up the edges of sheets of her sketches and notebooks inside the suitcase. She focused on the gold-edged papers so that when Scott shuffled closer she could pretend that a collection of ragged teenage work was far more interesting than the man whose trouser leg was only inches away from her shoulder.

  ‘What about your dad’s work?’

  She pulled out a sketchbook and started casually flicking through it, not ready to look into his face.

  Her fingers paused at one particular drawing and she ran the pad of her forefinger down the edge of the smooth paper she liked to work on.

  ‘Have you ever heard of the studio system? No? The old masters used to train young artists as a way of making some extra income. They all did it. The more famous you were, the more parents were prepared to pay to have their children study with you and work in the studio.’

  She lifted her chin and gestured towards the next room where the art supplies were kept. ‘I remember a time when there were always three or four art students from the local college hanging around, making tea and preparing canvases and now and again my dad would let them make sketches on a sitting with a client. So he could critique their work. Show them how to develop the idea into a painting. Maybe even work on a background for one of his portraits. If they were very good.’

  Tears pricked the corners of her eyes and she wiped them away with the back of her knuckle.

  ‘Fame is a fickle thing, Scott. One day everyone loves your work and the next? You’re history and nobody wants to hire you because the exciting new style is all the fashion and who needs their portrait painted? That’s why cameras were invented.’

  She felt his body lift from the bed as the hard springs squeaked in protest and suddenly Scott was sitting on the floor next to her, his back so tall against the divan.

  His left hand slid sideways and as she glanced down all the weight and strength that Scott possessed seemed to flow through those fingers as they meshed with hers.

  ‘He resented you for leaving him.’

  She nodded. ‘I was his last apprentice. The student who was going to make her mark in the world and show the art establishment just how powerful fine painting could be. I was going to lead the next generation of Baldoni portrait painters proudly forward.’

  Her head dropped and she picked up Amy’s portrait with her left hand. ‘I painted this when I was seventeen. By then I was working every night after school in the studio and doing nearly all of my dad’s canvases. My weekends and every day of the school holidays were spent in that studio.’

  She shook her head and blew out hard. ‘I was his apprentice so it made sense for me to be there for the sittings so that I could paint the backgrounds and clothing on his portraits. He always worked on the fine detail. Afterwards. But as I got older and he got more disillusioned and depressed about how much photography was taking over, I found that he was leaving me to work on the few commissions that were coming in.’

  Scott breathed in through his nose. ‘You were doing the work. Weren’t you? You were painting those amazing portraits and he was passing them off as his work. Oh, Toni.’

  His fingers squeezed hers for one last time then slid away and moved around her waist so that he could draw her to him.

  ‘It didn’t feel like that,’ she replied and rested her head on his shoulder. ‘I loved the work and wanted to learn everything I could. This was my real education. School work was not important in the least. Not like it was to Amy.’ She chuckled deep in her throat. ‘It was a bit of a shock finding out that we had a scientist in the family. Her idea of dr
awing was a flow chart and computer spreadsheets.’ Then she swallowed down a lump of guilt and regret. ‘But of course that put even more pressure on me to fly the flag for the family and carry on my legacy. So when I announced that I was moving to photography...it hit them hard. So very hard.’

  ‘What did you do?’

  ‘What could I do? For a while they did everything they could to try and make me change my mind. That I was making a huge mistake and throwing away my career and that people would start commissioning portraits again. I just had to carry on and learn my craft and be patient and it would all work out.’

  She glanced quickly over one shoulder towards Scott, who was breathing hard and fast on to the top of her head.

  ‘Ever wondered what proud artists do when they don’t have any work coming in? They borrow on the only real asset they have left. This house must have been mortgaged and re-mortgaged four times. A commission comes in, they pay some of the loan off, then the money runs out and they borrow again and...I learnt the hard way that putting your home at risk to pay the gas bill is a stressful way to live.’

  ‘Your family? Other relatives? Couldn’t they help out?’

  ‘Oh, no. My father was a stubborn man and he would never have contacted his Italian side of the family. A Baldoni would never sink so low. So he dropped his prices and offered to paint children and local people. Said that it was his way of being generous.’

  She chuckled and sniffed. ‘They needed me to work and work hard to create commercial pictures they could sell quickly to bring in some income. And that is what I did. Nights and weekends. There are children around here with a genuine Baldoni portrait on their walls!’

  ‘Did you sign them?’

  ‘Of course I did. A. Baldoni. They didn’t know that it was an Antonia Baldoni and not an Aldo Baldoni work they were buying—why should they? Everyone called me Toni. The local mayor would have been very upset if he knew. I think he is still bragging about that painting to every visitor to his official office.’

  She wiped away one tear and whispered, ‘Very upset. Seeing it was the last one that my father claimed to have painted before he died. It’s his claim to fame.’

  ‘How did it happen?’

  ‘A train crash in Italy. It was June. They had been invited to a family reunion and scraped together the rail fare with some sort of excuse about them hating flying. It was...brutal to lose them both at the same time. Horrible, really. I was just about to leave school...’

  Her eyebrows squeezed together tight. ‘And that was the end of my hopes and dreams. How could I go waltzing off to my dream course in New York to study photography when I had a sister to take care of? So I stayed in London and went to college when Amy was at school and did the best that I could with grants and loans. And we worked it out. The two of us together. I got a job with a media company which meant that I could stay in London as much as possible. It was fine. Until I got a call from a certain Freya Elstrom.’

  ‘My sister is a well-known troublemaker.’

  Toni nodded. ‘I thought that I was ready to put all of the painting behind me. Amy and I spent Christmas sorting through so much rubbish and clutter so I could get the house ready to decorate and rent out. The only room I didn’t touch was the studio.’

  She flashed Scott a half smile. ‘The plan was to donate the unused canvases and equipment to the local school. Amy’s art teacher would have taken everything if she had the chance. But somehow I couldn’t bring myself to do it. You were my excuse.’

  ‘I like to be useful.’ Scott smiled back.

  ‘Amy is no fool. She saw through my little pretence straight away so I convinced her that this was going to be my last portrait. Ever. One more painting and I would be done. End of an era. But then I met you. And my world has never been the same since.’

  Her hand swept out, her eyes hot and fierce, and she tapped the heel of her hand against the hard planes of his chest. ‘I blame you for everything, Scott Elstrom. All of it. I was happy to leave painting behind until you came along. My life was all planned out. Neat and tidy. Until you walked into my birthday party and blew me away. I have done things this month that I never imagined possible.’

  She pressed the fingers of both hands hard against her forehead. ‘Because do you know what I have done? Exactly the same thing as my dad did. I have borrowed money on my house to invest in Elstrom. And it is all your fault!’

  THIRTEEN

  Scott stared at Toni for a few seconds before he finally made the connections.

  ‘It was you! You bought the shares from Travis.’

  He looked to one side for a second as though his mind was trying to process what she had done. But when his gaze locked on to her face it was full of warmth and utter astonishment.

  ‘You put your home on the line. For me! That is the most amazingly generous thing that anyone has ever done for me. And I don’t even know where to start to thank you. Those shares will give me...’

  ‘Your freedom,’ Toni interrupted. ‘I wanted you to be free of the past, Scott. You are an Elstrom. Your destiny is to be travelling the world exploring trade routes to some distant shore, not sorting through old pamphlets. You can do what you want now, Scott. Stay. Go. Be with who you want, where you want. All I am doing is returning the favour. There is no need to thank me.’

  ‘I cannot believe that you did that for me.’

  Gulping down her fears about how this proud man might react to her working behind the scenes without his permission, Toni looked up into Scott’s face and what she saw there wiped away any doubts.

  ‘You know why I did it. I love you, Scott Elstrom, and a girl will do anything for the man she...’

  Toni never got to finish her sentence because her lips were far too busy being crushed by Scott’s hot mouth.

  She reached up and stroked his cheek, her eyes brimming with tears.

  ‘I haven’t stopped thinking about what you said. And you were right. This is the biggest risk of my life, your life, anyone’s life.’

  She breathed in, her heart thudding so loudly that she suspected he must have heard it. ‘I know now that I will always love you, Scott Elstrom, and it doesn’t matter where you are in the world. And if that means that I have to let you go, to be free to do your work—’ she licked her lips ‘—then that is the way it has to be. I want to be with you. Love you. If you still want me to wait for you?’

  Scott stood very still, staring at her, and she bit her lower lip in fear. She might have just made the biggest mistake of her life but this was the way it had to be and she was prepared to be turned down.

  ‘I could be away for six or seven months at a time, you know,’ he told her gently, his voice low, sensual and intimate.

  ‘Probably longer. But that is the way it has to be. I didn’t fall in love with an office clerk; I fell in love with you. I have to let you go and do what you have to do, wherever that is, so that you can be true to who you are. Because, just maybe, we can still get back together one day. I love you, Scott, and that is not going to change whether you’re in Alaska or the Himalayas or down the road.’

  Scott didn’t answer, but she slid her fingers from his so that he could caress her face, his gaze scanning from her grubby nose to her roughly tied back out-of-control hair.

  ‘You love me, but you are willing to let me go and do this work which means so much to me? Is that right?’

  She nodded, too afraid to trust her voice. ‘As long as you are somewhere in this world loving me, then I shall be fine. My heart will be your beacon home to my love. You don’t even need a map. You’ll always know where to find me. Apparently, there are people who still want their portrait painted so I’m staying put after all. Who knew?’

  ‘Then there’s only one answer to your question. Looking back these past few weeks, I can see just how low Alexa and Travis too
k me. I couldn’t believe that the woman I loved was capable of doing that to me. To us. I was in love with my wife, Toni, but she didn’t love me. That’s hard to come back from. So my answer is no. I don’t want you to wait for me.’

  Her heart caught in her throat but he pressed one finger on her lips and smiled, breaking the terror. ‘You see, I’m not as brave as you are. As soon as I saw that portrait this morning, I knew that I couldn’t leave the woman I have fallen in love with without trying to come up with some options.’

  He grinned at her and slid forward so that both of his hands were cupped around her face as tears pricked her eyes. ‘I love you way too much to let you go. I need you, Toni. I need you so much. Nothing else comes close. What would you say if I told you that Freya and I have come up with a plan which will make it possible for me to work out of London for the summer months?’

  She shuddered out a chuckle of delight and relief. ‘I would say, Yes, please, and then I would ask how you have managed it.’

  ‘Freya has been fielding enquiries from location scouts from TV and movie companies all around the world. Your idea worked, Toni. It worked brilliantly. We already have bookings for most of the year and part of the next. Elstrom Mapping is safe for the next five years and I have a job as a location actor any time I want one.’

  Scott took both of her hands in his, his voice suddenly full of life and excitement and enthusiasm. ‘There was one extra condition before I signed my new contract with the survey company in Alaska. I told them that I would only do it if I could bring my girlfriend with me to Anchorage in October so that she could see the Northern Lights for herself. After all, she is a professional artist and one of the Baldoni family. She deserves first class travel all of the way.’

  ‘Your girlfriend—’ She breathed out the words, tears pricking her wide eyes, scarcely daring to believe what he was saying.

  ‘You have given me the greatest compliment a man could wish for. You offered me your love and your confidence and the freedom to live my life. I never imagined I would find a woman who could love me as much as I loved her. I am not going anywhere without you and I mean that.’