Chloe’s heart thumped painfully in her chest. That was what she was afraid of. Now that she’d met Kenneth, she could certainly understand why her grandmother Sophronia had fallen so hard for Kenneth’s grandfather Barrett.
Not that she was in any danger of falling for Kenneth, she reminded herself hastily, but Kenneth clearly came from a gene pool that was unfairly blessed with dazzling good looks and fake charm.
“There’s got to be a reason,” Chloe insisted. “The only possibility that I can think of is that collection of artwork that Barrett Maxwell stole from your mother. Perhaps there’s been some challenge to his ownership of it? Maybe he came here to offer to pay for it?”
“Ha,” her mother said scornfully. “Shortly after he stole it, she threatened to sue to get it back. Barrett offered to give her money for her share. It was a substantial sum, although nowhere near what it was really worth, of course. She refused.”
“Why? Why wouldn’t she sell it to him?” That was the first time that Chloe had heard that the Chamberlin’s had actually offered money for what they’d stolen.
“Various reasons.” Her mother’s voice had gone wary again. “Perhaps a good portion of it was pride, after what he did to her. Hell hath no fury, et cetera.”
“What other reasons?”
“They were…private reasons. As you know, that was a very painful time for her.”
Chloe frowned, tapping her fingers on the porch rail nervously. Her mother was keeping something from her.
“I suppose, since he won’t stop calling you, you could just ask the loathsome creature what he wants, and then whatever it is, tell him no,” her mother continued. “And if he keeps bothering you, you could threaten to take out a restraining order.”
Oh, he’s gone way beyond calling me, she thought, wincing. She hated to lie to her mother, but on the other hand, she couldn’t even imagine her mother’s reaction to hearing that Kenneth had asked the dean of the antiquities department to pressure her into some kind of strange live-in work/travel arrangement which hadn’t been fully explained to her.
It hadn’t been fully explained to Dean Leibovitz, either, but he’d been all too eager to basically sell her services to Kenneth Chamberlin. Worse, with the current economic crisis and the University’s funding woes, her department literally was in danger of being closed down they if didn’t get Kenneth’s endowment…meaning not just the loss of her job, but several other professors as well.
Chloe knew there had to be some other reason for Kenneth’s sudden appearance in her life, though. She found it highly unlikely that he actually wanted her to come work for him – certainly not so badly that he’d keep calling and calling after she’d repeatedly turned him down. He had to have some secret, ulterior motive.
Why had he started out by calling her mother? And why did he want to hire Chloe, of all people? The man was a billionaire. He could have hired an antiquities expert from anywhere in the world; why contact the woman who was least likely to accept a job offer from him?
“You know, one thing I never really understood…after Kenneth’s grandfather stole the artwork from her, did grandmother report it to the police? And if not, why not?” Chloe had never pushed her mother too hard for specific details of what had happened Barrett Chamberlin and her grandmother, because it was a subject that clearly distressed her. However, since she was going to be forced to have an actual conversation with Kenneth, it would help her if she were armed with the facts.
“That was decades ago, Chloe. The Chamberlin family is very wealthy and powerful and has all kinds of connections. There was nothing that she could do.”
Well, that was a non-answer if she’d ever heard one.
Something was off here. Chloe didn’t know what, but it was obvious that her mother knew more than she was telling.
Why wouldn’t she want to tell her about something that had happened more than fifty years ago?
“All right, then,” she said uneasily. Clearly her mother wasn’t going to give her the information that she needed. “I should go get ready for the ball.”
“Oh, that’s right! Do you have a special date?” her mother’s voice brightened.
“My gay teaching assistant. And I had to blackmail him with threats to post pictures from the department Fourth of July party. You don’t want to know,” she added quickly. “Yes, I do!” her mother protested.
“Okay, actually, I just don’t want to tell you. It involved the inappropriate use of a priceless Ming Dynasty vase, and that’s all I’m going to say. I’m your daughter, for God’s sake! Boundaries. Listen, I’ll call you soon. I’ll update my Facebook status. Gotta run.”