Page 2 of An Heir For Her Enemy

“No, I really am. I’m very new to the world of art collection and, without advisors, I’d probably end up taking home a napkin that a toddler had scribbled on because I thought it was a piece of art.” He rolled his eyes to show that he was joking, and Delaney chuckled.

“What do you do, then, if you aren’t an art collector?”

“I run a finance company. Ordinal.” Delaney was impressed herself. She’d heard of Ordinal and knew that it was a very successful yet relatively new investment company. This manlooked quite young to be running his own company — but then again, he’d probably come from family money, like most of the people in this room. “How about you? Are you here as an investor?”

“Hardly.” Delaney smiled at him, then returned her gaze to the painting in front of them. “I’m an art consultant.”

“Hmm, so youdoknow what you’re doing.” The man smiled back, but his gaze lingered on Delaney. “Perhaps, if I fetch you one of those canapés, you’ll give me some art tips.”

“I’m afraid my consultancy services don’t come that cheap.” Delaney shrugged. “But you’re welcome to get the canapé and we’ll see what happens. Just not one with caviar.”

“Agreed.” The man wrinkled his nose, and Delaney found herself smiling at the genuine gesture that was so unusual in a room like this. “I’ll never understand caviar.”

“Oh, me neither.” Delaney tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Or foie gras. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve reached for a canapé hoping it was something innocent and found that it was covered in strange, raw meats. I know I shouldn’t say this, but I’d rather have a plate of French fries anytime.”

“I’m with you there. How about I steer away from the whole meat-and-fish category and get you a piece of bruschetta?”

“That sounds fair. I love all Italian food, so you can’t go wrong with bruschetta.”

The man flagged down a passing waiter and, with a flourish, handed Delaney a small plate with a piece of bruschetta on it.

“Thank you. I can see you worked hard to get this for me.” Delaney winked and the man chuckled.

“I certainly did. I’m Logan, by the way. Logan Banks.”

“Delaney Cohen.” Delaney shifted the bruschetta to her left hand and held out her right to shake Logan’s. His hand was warm and his handshake was firm and solid. He lingered for a little longer than was necessary and Delaney felt warmth twine up her arm from her hand.

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Cohen.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Banks.”

Logan released her hand. “So, are you here with a client today?”

“Yes. Carmen Henderson. She’s around here somewhere, although I haven’t seen her in a few minutes.” Delaney took a bite of her bruschetta and smiled at the juicy tomatoes and crunchy bread. “This is delicious. You should have one.”

“To be honest, I’m always a little afraid to eat in places like this.” Logan gestured to the room at large. “I’m worried I’ll spill something.”

Despite herself, Delaney laughed. Once again, Logan had surprised her. His genuine comments and light flirtations were a refreshing change from the wealthy people who generally attended this kind of event. She felt she’d found a kindred spirit.

“I used to feel the same way.” Delaney bit her lip. She usually did her best to play herself off as someone so used to the world of affluence that it was hardly noticeable anymore, but Logan seemed like someone she could confide in, at least a little. “The first few times I attended events with clients, I didn’t eat a thing. But after a while, I decided that I might as well enjoy the food if I’m going to be here anyway.”

“You make a good point.” Logan flagged down another waiter and took what looked like a colorful rice ball from the tray. “Perhaps I should take a page out of your book.”

Delaney toasted him with the bruschetta. “Good choice. But try one of these next.”

“I’ll have to, what with such a good review from you. This rice ball is not great, in case you were wondering. It’s very fishy.”

“I’m not surprised.”

They smiled at each other. Delaney found that she didn’t want this conversation to end. Unlike the usual annoying or dull conversations she tended to have while networking at this kind of event, talking to Logan was both pleasant and interesting. Sure, he was a wealthy investor like most of the people in the gallery, but he seemed different from the others. More real. Delaney wasn’t sure how she’d gotten such a strong impression from a passing conversation, but she certainly felt a connection to this man.

“Have you lived in New York City long?” Delaney asked.

“A while. I moved here about six years ago. How about you? You seem like a local.”

Delaney laughed. “I’m not sure where you got that from, but?—"

“There you are!” Carmen came bustling across the room, a look of annoyance on her face. “Delaney, can I steal you back for a moment? I’ve heard good things about a painting and I need your opinion on it.”

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