The Exhibition (An Executive Decision Trilogy) (2 page)

Chapter Two

Harris Walker shifted in the branches of the beech tree just enough to allow the feeling to flow back into his numb legs and instantly regretted it as the pins and needles of returning circulation shot down to his toes. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to hold still. He’d never photographed a family of great horned owls as up close and personal as this before, and he was determined to get just a few more shots into the neighboring tree before he was forced to call it a night. The sun had been up nearly an hour, and the birds should have settled down to sleep by now, but an unexpected bedtime snack had delayed the normal routine.

The female was divvying up bits of a freshly killed skunk among the three fairly mature branchers. Skunk was one of the favorite foods of great horned owls who, blessedly, had no sense of smell. Harris, however, did, and even olfactory fatigue wasn’t quite enough to keep his eyes from watering at the barbed scent of skunk musk, which didn’t exactly make for good photos. That really irritated him because this was a view into the life of these birds only days, he would guess, before the adults sent their progeny out to fend for themselves and find their own territories. The golds and bronzes of early morning light, with the dappled shadows of the foliage, would make for interesting shots.

He was in an uncomfortable position, halfway up a good-sized beech tree looking over into the branches of the neighboring oak where the owl family had settled. He knew he shouldn’t be. He knew it was risky, especially being out here on his own. But after the previous night’s less than satisfactory shoot in the hide, he’d opted for the tree this time and was rewarded with some truly intimate shots of the birds. But he was tired now. His body ached from his vigil, and the smell of skunk was becoming nearly unbearable. Just a few more shots, then, when the adults settled in to rest, he’d scramble down and be home in time for breakfast.

Gradually, the pins and needles subsided in his leg. He blinked his watering eyes and kept shooting. Just a few more shots … He leaned out precariously onto the branch, wrapping his legs around its girth and securing his position with his feet, ankles turned, the soles of his hiking boots pressing hard into the wood. He was just focusing in for a close-up of the largest brancher, who was doing its best to swallow the huge piece of skunk, when, into the silence, his Blackberry rang, and both the adult owls were instantly hyper-vigilant. Shit! Had he really forgotten to turn the stupid thing off? He never forgot. Ever!

Hanging on for dear life with his legs, he contorted himself to reach it in his pocket before he realized the offending device was still in his backpack, which he had left at the bottom of the tree. It was a damn good thing he had. Immediately, the owls’ necks swiveled
Exorcist
-style, and those wild yellow eyes honed in on the bag, instead of him. The female rose up silently, the tips of her wing feathers nearly slapping Harris in the face, before both she and the male attacked his pack, talons first, with a terrifying force. He figured the female, who was the larger of the two, weighed in somewhere around five pounds. That might not sound like much, but it was five pounds of super-charged predator on wings that spanned well over a meter, and most of that weight was muscle, sharp beak and talons – talons strong enough to sever the spinal cord of its prey and do severe damage to a human, even one the size of Harris. As the device kept mindlessly ringing they kept attacking. And it wasn’t difficult to see that the backpack was losing the battle. They continued to shred it even after the BlackBerry went silent.

Harris stayed very still, holding his breath, goose flesh rising on his neck. Jesus! It could have been him. Whatever had possessed him to leave the phone in his backpack could very well have saved his bacon. Great horned owls were known for being aggressive, especially close to their nest or their young. He held tight and watched the destruction below. And when the backpack was truly destroyed, and the owls seemed to consider it no longer a threat, they decided to find a more peaceful place to finish their snack.

Once they’d flown, he waited a full five minutes before he moved, straining to hear owl sounds or see the returning flutter of wings. There was neither. He eased his aching body down the tree and surveyed the pathetic remains of his pack, which was not only well-shredded but liberally dotted in owl poop.

He found the offending phone and shoved it into his pocket; he stuffed everything he could salvage into one of the waterproof bags he always carried in the pack for kayaking trips, then stuck the remains of the backpack in on top and sealed the bag. He’d no sooner finished than the BlackBerry began to ring again. But it was quickly drowned out by the squawks of the owls, who returned with a vengeance. With the phone tinkling away merrily and the two adult birds dive-bombing him, Harris half ran, half belly-flopped beneath the partially upturned stump. Fuck! Why hadn’t he remembered to turn the damn thing off, and who the hell would call him at this hour anyway?

From the safety of his hidey-hole, he pulled out the offending device and frantically clicked it into silent mode, but not before he noticed that it was Stacie Emerson who’d been trying to call him. Damn it, he thought to himself as he listened to the squawks and barks of the angry owls, why couldn’t she just leave him alone? He really didn’t want to work with her. Maybe Ellis and Dee and even Kendra could forgive and forget, but he didn’t find it that easy. How could someone be all sweetness and light and do the things she’d done? And how could everyone just pretend that none of it had ever happened?

Other than the text that told him he had two missed calls, there was a text from Stacie as well.

Hi Harris,

Ellis told me you spent the night with the owls and that I might be able to catch you when you’d finished the photo shoot. Would love to treat you to breakfast and talk about the exhibition. I really think you’ll like my ideas.

Stacie

Harris shut down the device with a stern punch of the keys and shoved it back in his pocket. Who the hell did she think she was to pretend like all was well and wonderful, to act like they were best buds? They weren’t! He didn’t want to be her buddy, and he didn’t want to work with the woman.

He tried not to think about the way she’d draped her arm over his and acted as though they were all but in the sack together at that press conference, back when Kendra was pretending to be the hotshot romance novelist Tess Delaney. Well, at least Garrett Thorne had grown a pair and come clean. Everyone knew now that Tess Delaney was really Garrett. And everyone knew that he was head over heels in love with Harris’ friend, Kendra Davis. Harris still wasn’t sure he liked that idea, but even he had to admit he loved seeing that silly grin that lit up Kendra’s face every time she talked about Garrett.

That was fine, that was fair enough. And Garrett was Ellison Thorne’s brother, after all. There wasn’t anyone Harris respected more than he respected Ellis. And if Garrett was Ellis’ brother, and he did right by Kendra, Harris supposed he could learn to tolerate him. But in all honesty, he couldn’t see why his benevolence should extend to Stacie Emerson. Stacie had been engaged to one Thorne brother and had eloped with the other. Surely that was not the mark of someone who could be trusted. And no matter how many excuses everyone made for her, well, in his opinion they were just excuses.

And damned if he didn’t find himself sporting wood, thinking about her! That really pissed him off. OK, so she was beautiful. No one could argue with that. She had all the right curves in all the right places, and when they were pressed up close in his personal space, well, he was a man, wasn’t he? And in his weakest moments, his very weakest moments, when he was tired from spending the night in a hide taking pictures, when he’d spent the day with the board of directors of
Wilderness Vanguard
, he had, on the very rare occasion, fantasized about what it might be like to have her no doubt substantial charms turned in his direction. But those were weak moments and they didn’t happen very often. Well, not all
that
often.

The sun was properly up now, and sweat trickled down his back and under his armpits as he eased his way out from under the tree stump, secure in the fact that the offending BlackBerry would not betray his presence to the owls again. He shuffled down the slope toward the Jeep, muscles aching from the night in the tree, and, as he settled into the driver’s seat, he resisted the urge to check back and see if there was another message from Stacie. Kendra had told him the woman made incredible blueberry pancakes, and wow, did that sound good right now. His stomach rumbled. His mind conjured an exquisite image of Stacie, that pale hair of hers all bedroom mussed, making him blueberry pancakes, clad in nothing but a loosely tied silk bathrobe barely long enough to cover her luscious bottom. Now he was hungry,
and
he had a hard-on. Damn the woman! He started the engine and headed down the canyon. He’d stop at a drive-through and grab something. He was anxious to see the photos he’d taken, and not at all anxious to talk to Stacie Emerson, even if it were just business. Even if she bribed him with blueberry pancakes.

Chapter Three

‘You’re early,’ Dee said, giving Harris a bear hug that threatened to crunch his ribs. ‘It’s just as well; we’re running a little late. Ellis is just now home and in the shower. The cooking’s done. It’s Galina’s evening off with her sister – a girls’ night out to celebrate her niece’s engagement – so I told her I’d take care of the salad. Even I can’t mess up a salad. You can wash the lettuce.’ She returned to chopping cucumbers.

The boardroom was Dee’s forte, not the kitchen, but of the Three Musketeers, Dee, Kendra and Harris, she was best at cooking real food in a pinch. Now that she spent as much of her time at Ellis’ house as at her own, she had the benefit of a real cook at least some of the time, and Galina was amazing. Still, Dee could have served up stale cheese sandwiches and Harris wouldn’t have minded. As well as the chance to spend time with his friends, it was the view from Ellis’ balcony and the lovely woodlands beyond that he loved, and that’s what he’d come early for.

Dee didn’t miss his quick glances out the kitchen window, and she offered a knowing smile. ‘Put the lettuce there to drain and go for a walk. I know you want to. You probably have 30 minutes before Ellis is ready and we can get dinner on the table. I’ll give you a shout on your BlackBerry when it’s time to eat.’

He shoved the lettuce into the draining rack and wiped his wet hands on his jeans, already heading for the door. ‘Thanks Dee, I won’t be long.’

‘Oh one more thing,’ she called over her shoulder as he headed out of the kitchen, ‘Stacie …’

That’s all he heard as he closed the door behind him and hurried toward the woodland. He turned his BlackBerry on as he went so Dee could call him. He’d had it off since his morning run-in with the owls, just in case Stacie tried him again and, in all honesty, he’d forgotten about it. He didn’t turn back to catch what Dee said. He figured a part of tonight’s dinner plan was to try and convince him to talk to Stacie. To be fair, he had all but invited himself when he heard the menu, so he supposed he could endure the two of them regaling him with what a nice person Stacie was and how he ought to consider working with her. He could endure that if it got him a walk in Ellis’ wilderness and the chance to sink his teeth into some of Galina’s famous chicken parmigiana. Plus he had it on good authority that her even more famous red velvet cake was on the dessert menu, so if they had to talk about Stacie, well, he’d endure it and be rewarded with some nice woodland shots and a delicious meal for his sufferings.

In spite of the warm, welcoming feeling Ellis’ home always gave Harris, he couldn’t fight back a little shiver as he remembered the stalker who had sneaked onto the property a few weeks ago to watch Kendra and Garrett while they lay stargazing in Ellis’ meadow. He felt a little queasy every time he thought about how close he came to losing his friend. The stalker had used night vision goggles, the police said. Frederick Parks was his real name, though he’d called himself Edge. He had been watching them from just inside the woods, and before the dust finally cleared, before the whole horrifying event was over, Kendra had been kidnaped and Garrett shot. Jesus, their lives had all been so banal until the past few months. He lifted his camera and got a shot of a robin on the edge of the lawn wrestling with a very large worm.

Garrett was well on the road to recovery now and love was in the air. Again. And though Harris never felt left out, there were times when, no matter how much Ellis, his brother, and Stacie shoved into their lives and no matter how happy he was for both Dee and Kendra, nothing else would do but a few hours spent with his friends. Still, as much as he respected and liked Ellis and, all right, Garrett was definitely growing on him, it felt strange to have the dynamic of their friendship in flux in a way he never would have imagined. There were times too when he sort of suspected that he was getting the push toward Stacie just so he wouldn’t be the odd man out. But then, he told himself, neither Dee nor Kendra would ever do that deliberately. Sure, they would both love to see him happily matched, but they also knew how he felt about Stacie. And whether he liked her or not, Stacie was still friends with everyone else, and he could be polite and tolerate her if he had to. But that didn’t include doing an exhibition for her, even though he knew it would be good publicity for him, even though he knew she had a reputation for being the best in her field. It was the principle of the thing, he told himself

Harris shot a couple more photos of the wrestling match between the robin and the worm then slipped into the cool of the woods. As always was the case, he quickly became fascinated by the living snapshot that was nature. He took several photos of a brightly colored slime mold growing near the remains of a decayed stump and a few shots of the soft-needled branches of a larch tree just beginning to turn golden with the approach of autumn. He’d just gotten a nice close-up of the thick blanket of moss on a rotting tree trunk and the microcosm living there when his phone rang. He answered, still studying the moss that, up close, looked like a miniature jungle.

‘Did you see Stacie?’ Dee spoke. ‘If you do, drag her on back with you. Dinner’s about to be served.’

‘See Stacie?’ His attention was still focused on the moss. ‘Why should I have seen Stacie?’

Her exasperated sigh from the BlackBerry sounded like a gust of wind. ‘Harris, I told you she was out walking too, but you were so anxious to get into the woods, I didn’t figure you’d heard me. Besides, I emailed you that she’d be here. Don’t you ever read your emails?’

‘I had the BlackBerry turned off, ever since her call this morning nearly resulted in death by owls,’ he replied, trying not to grind his teeth. ‘I just now turned it back on.’

‘Oh? Then you’ve talked to her. Death by owl? Didn’t you have your device turned off? Harris, you know how dangerous great horned owls can be. What were you thinking?’

‘I forgot.’

‘What do you mean, you forgot? You never forget. That’s not the kind of thing you would dare forget.’

‘Fortunately I’d left it in my backpack on the ground, so it was all right, no damage done. At least, none to me, though the pack’s a goner, and if Stacie hadn’t called –’

‘Hold it, Harris. If the pack was on the ground, where the hell were you? Weren’t you in the hide?’

He found himself wishing he’d kept his mouth shut. ‘It doesn’t matter where I was; the point is who the hell calls someone at seven in the morning?’

‘Oh for fuck sake, Harris, you’re always up before God, everybody knows that, and you still haven’t answered my question.’

‘I was up a tree, all right? I was up a tree, and I got some fantastic photos for it. And never mind that, you know how I feel about Stacie. I’d say it’s pretty damn manipulative of her to arrange for you to invite the two of us together and –’

There was a soft chuckle behind him. ‘I’m very glad to hear you got fantastic photos, Mr. Walker, but you could have gotten yourself killed.’

He nearly dropped his device as he spun around to find Stacie Emerson standing right behind him. And no one, especially someone he didn’t like, should look that good wearing faded jeans and a T-shirt. But the jeans hugged her curves just right, and made it difficult for him to remember what the hell he and Dee were talking about. Her arms were folded across her very nice front, which even the modest-fitting T-shirt couldn’t disguise as anything other than lush, and the black of the shirt made her hair look almost white in the sharp-angled light filtering through the trees. The sight of her made him breathless, and damn if a good deal of the blood supply that he really needed in his brain right now wasn’t being hijacked to regions farther south.

Wishing desperately the forest floor would open and swallow him up, he forced his voice to sound normal. ‘Dee,’ he spoke into the device, struggling to act as though he hadn’t made a total ass of himself, struggling to keep his eyes locked on Stacie’s, which sparkled like she’d just heard the best joke ever. ‘She’s here. We’re on our way.’ He shoved the BlackBerry back into his pocket without taking his eyes off Stacie. ‘How long have you been listening?’

‘I wasn’t listening, but you weren’t exactly being quiet, so I heard enough to know that I’m not your favorite person at the moment. No surprise there, really. I already knew that.’ She gestured toward the house. ‘Shall we? Don’t want that delicious chicken getting cold, do we? I must get the recipe. The red velvet cake recipe is actually mine. I gave it to Galina way back when Ellis first moved into this house.’ She shot him another amused glance. ‘And no, I’m not trying to win my way to your heart through your stomach. I figure you’re way too sophisticated for that. Though it is a damn good recipe.’

It was frustrating as hell that she could make what was for dinner sound like polite, witty conversation and he couldn’t think of two words to rub together now that she was here next to him, now that he’d already made a fool of himself in front of her. The last of the evening sunlight filtered through the trees like thick golden syrup as the two slipped out into the open of the meadow. ‘I didn’t hear you,’ Harris said, feeling embarrassed that he’d been caught in the truth and pissed off that it embarrassed him.

‘Obviously, though I am surprised, I’m a bit like a moose in a crystal shop when I get out in the woods. Honestly, I stumble about like an accident waiting to happen. But then you were pretty distracted.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said.

‘What? Sorry that you said it or sorry that I heard it? Nothing to be sorry about, but really, even I know you shouldn’t have been up in the tree near a nest of great horned owls.’

‘It would have been a lot less dangerous if you hadn’t chosen that time to call me,’ he said.

She deliberately shuffled her feet in the high grass, making a
swish
,
swish
sound as she walked. ‘I never imagined you’d have left your phone on while you were communing with the great outdoors.’

‘Usually, I don’t.’ He tried to think of an excuse, but the truth was he’d simply gotten careless. He couldn’t blame Stacie for that, no matter how badly he’d like to.

‘Glad it’s not a habit then,’ she said. ‘I figured that it probably wasn’t or, judging by some of the amazing shots you’ve got on your website, you wouldn’t have survived this long.’

Jesus, the woman wasn’t even going to give him the chance to be indignant and tell her it was none of her business. Did she have to go and compliment him like that?

‘I especially loved the mountain lion shots, up on the Crooked River, weren’t they? I can’t even begin to imagine how you managed those safely.’

‘By making sure my BlackBerry was turned off,’ he replied, feeling a little more at ease. The mountain lion shots were some of his favorites, and it had been one of the most adrenalin-laced shoots he’d ever done. He hadn’t dared tell Dee or Kendra just what had been involved in getting those shots. They would definitely not have approved, and it was almost a sacred experience for him. He didn’t want anyone’s disapproval tainting it.

‘I think I read somewhere that the best way to keep a mountain lion from attacking you is to make sure your cell phone is turned off,’ Stacie said.

She understood, then! The thought flashed through his head before he could stop it, before he could remind himself she was trying to get him to exhibit his work in her gallery, that she had manipulated his friends into arranging this meeting; of course she’d say flattering things.

Ellis met them at the door and folded Stacie into a quick hug, lifting her off her feet. Then he gave Harris a friendly slap on the back. ‘Come on in, both of you. Dinner’s on the table, and it’s warm enough to eat on the patio so you won’t have to completely give up the great outdoors just yet.’

‘I see you two found each other,’ Dee called over her shoulder as she brought the chicken from the kitchen and nodded everyone to follow.

‘You could say that,’ Stacie said with a smile that might have passed for naughty if Harris hadn’t known she was really having a laugh at his expense. To her credit, she only commented about the autumn colors beginning to work their way into the woodland’s always stunning décor. Harris was surprised at her eye for detail, but then he shouldn’t have been. She was a successful gallery owner, after all. He’d get back to Dee later about allowing the woman to manipulate her into getting the two of them together, but for the moment, he’d be polite and not ruin anyone’s dinner. He knew how hard Dee and Ellis worked and how little free time the CEO of Pneuma Inc. and his second in command got these days.

‘So then, are you an artist? Is that what got you into the gallery business?’ Harris asked as the chicken was served up with a seasonal veg mix that he figured came from Galina’s garden.

‘No. I just enjoy looking at beautiful things,’ she replied around a mouthful of green beans.

‘Plus she has a head for business,’ Ellis added. ‘The gallery was a money pit, in debt to the hilt when Stacie took over. She made it work when anyone else would have ran away screaming.’

Harris understood humility at such a compliment coming from a business wizard like Ellison Thorne, and he would have expected a modest blush. Instead, the look on Stacie’s face was more like he’d just told her that her best friend had died. She caught herself quickly enough and offered a demurring smile, but not before Harris knew it wasn’t a topic she wanted to discuss. That certainly surprised him, since he figured she’d want him to know just how good she was at her job.

‘I ended up there by default,’ she said, matter-of-factly. ‘And it was probably more dumb luck than any gift I had in that direction.’

‘But you are tenacious.’ The words were out before Harris could stop them.

She offered him a half-smile that, he hated to admit, got his cock’s attention. Then she lifted her wine glass in salute. ‘I am that.’

He was certain that this was the opening she was looking for, and he figured he’d offer it, then cut her off at the pass so they could all relax and enjoy the rest of their dinner. But she surprised him again by ignoring him completely and turning her attention to Dee. ‘I had a call from Al Marston this morning. He certainly can’t say enough nice things about you now he knows what a badass business woman you are. He said you’d been yo-yoing to New York and back almost as much as I have recently. Sounds like the deal with Scribal is coming together.’