The Billionaire Bid. Leigh Michaels

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СКАЧАТЬ no.” The thought was like a knife to Gina’s heart. “A new building for a museum of history? It would be anachronous.”

      “The house you’re in now must be a hundred and fifty years old.”

      Gina nodded. “And the museum has been there from its beginning. You see, there wouldn’t be a museum at all if it hadn’t been for Essie Kerrigan. She not only started the Kerrigan County Historical Society, but she kept it going almost single-handed for years. Her possessions formed the nucleus of the collection, her money filled the gaps whenever there was a shortfall in the budget, and her house has provided a roof to shelter it. She devoted her entire life to creating and nurturing it.”

      “But Essie’s gone now, and you’re the director. So you can do whatever you think best.”

      Gina smiled wryly. “I still wouldn’t consider a modern building. For one thing, Essie would haunt it—and if she were to be surrounded by wallboard and cheap pine moldings, she would not be a happy ghost. Besides, there’s the problem of where to put a new building. A museum of history needs to be in the historical area, not the suburbs—and that means near downtown.”

      “Near the lakefront, where land is scarce and expensive.”

      “Exactly.”

      “So if it’s not a new building you want, what do you have in mind? My kids and I had a very pleasant afternoon at the museum, you know—so I’m having trouble seeing what could possibly need to be changed.”

      “A pleasant afternoon.” Gina put down her fork and leaned forward. “I’m glad you enjoyed your visit, but would you come back again? No, don’t answer right away—that’s a serious question. In a couple of hours you saw everything we have room to display. Unless we can create more space, room for changing exhibits, there’s no reason for anyone to visit more than once. And unless we have repeat traffic—regular visitors—then the museum can’t possibly support itself. So let me ask again. Would you come back for another visit?”

      Anne sighed. “Probably not anytime soon.”

      “That’s precisely my point. The museum is now at the stage where it needs to grow, or else it’s going to die.” Gina stabbed a tomato chunk.

      “What sort of growth are you talking about?” Anne Garrett sounded doubtful.

      Gina felt herself wavering. Maybe it would be wise to pull back a bit? Sometimes people who asked for the moon ended by getting nothing at all.

      No, she thought. It was true, of course, that if she aimed too high, she might miss altogether. But if she aimed too low, she’d always wonder if she could have done better. And it would be the museum that would suffer. Essie Kerrigan’s precious museum. Gina couldn’t let that happen.

      “I want to renovate the entire building,” she said firmly. “It’s been years since there has been any more than make-do maintenance—for instance, we’ve patched the roof, but it really needs to be replaced. Then I want to restructure the interior to provide real galleries instead of cramped spaces that will hardly hold a display cabinet.”

      “I can’t imagine Essie would like seeing you do that to her house.”

      “She wouldn’t be thrilled,” Gina admitted. “But she understood the need. She said herself that it was a shame we couldn’t have more wide-open space, and better lighting. And security, of course—you have no idea how difficult it is now to keep an eye on every visitor.”

      Anne smiled wryly. “I thought it was lovely to have a private tour guide showing us around. Eleanor—was that her name? I never considered that she was really a guard, making sure we didn’t walk off with anything.”

      Gina winced at her own lack of tact. “We don’t like to think of our volunteers as guards. But security is a problem, because we never have enough people on hand. I’d also like to build a couple of new wings for additional gallery space.”

      “Where?” Anne sounded incredulous. “You don’t have room to build on wings.”

      “Well, we don’t need a backyard. Or a driveway, for that matter.” Gina moved a slice of black olive to the side of her salad. “I want to make it clear, by the way, that I’m not asking you for the money.”

      “That’s a relief,” Anne murmured.

      “But it’s going to take some major fund-raising, and I hoped you might have some ideas.”

      “And you’d like the support of the newspaper when you start your campaign, I suppose.”

      Gina admitted, “That, too.” If the Chronicle were to endorse the idea of a museum expansion, the publicity would make raising the money much easier.

      Anne stirred her lettuce with an abstracted air. “And I thought perhaps you’d asked me to lunch merely to invite me to join the board,” she mused.

      Gina sat still, almost afraid to breathe. Afraid to interrupt.

      As the silence drew out, her neck started to feel itchy again. The sensation of being watched had never quite gone away, though she’d tried her best to suppress the feeling so she could concentrate on the museum. She’d caught herself several times running a hand over the nape of her neck, as if to brush away an insect—or a bothersome stare.

      She couldn’t stand it anymore. She had to look. If he was still sitting there staring at her…

      But the stool at the end of the bar was empty. He was gone. Her feeling of being watched must have been merely a shadow, an impression which had lingered on because of the intensity of his gaze.

      How foolish, she told herself, to feel just a little let down. She’d wanted him to stop looking and go away. Hadn’t she?

      She gave up on her unfinished salad—the lettuce seemed to have kept growing even after it was arranged on her plate—and glanced around the room while she waited for Anne to gather her thoughts. Her gaze came to rest on a pair of men at a nearby table.

      He hadn’t left after all. He’d only moved.

      And of course, the instant she spotted him, he turned his head and looked directly at her, as if her gaze had acted like a magnet.

      She couldn’t stand it an instant longer. Gina said abruptly, “The man at the third table over. In front of the fireplace. Who is he?”

      Anne looked puzzled. “There are two men at that table,” she pointed out. “Which one are you asking about?”

      “The one who looks like an eagle.”

      “Looks like a what?”

      “You know,” Gina said impatiently. “Proud and stern and looking for prey.”

      Anne’s eyebrows lifted. “Well, that’s not a bad description. Especially the part about prey. I thought you’d know him, since he’s some kind of cousin or nephew of Essie’s. His name’s Dez Kerrigan.”

      Gina knew the name, of course. Essie had been just as devoted to genealogy as to every other sort of history, and so Gina had heard a lot about the various branches of the Kerrigans. But she’d never met him; he obviously hadn’t СКАЧАТЬ