The Billionaire From Boston Read online

  Chanel slid some sandals on her feet and picked up her overnight bag before heading back into her studio to pack her painter’s bag. It would be complete with all of her artist’s tools, and she would take a canvas along with her as well as a small camera to take photos of the subject she was painting, for later reference when she would be putting final touches on it in her studio.

  At eleven o’clock sharp, there was a knock at the door, and Chanel opened the door. Standing before her was a man who might be in his early thirties. He had very short dark brown hair, which was combed back and held firmly in place with gel. He wore a neat dark suit with a white shirt and a thin dark tie. He gave her a slight smile and a little nod.

  “Hello, Miss Barry. I’m Andrew Latimer. I’m Mr. Thomas’ assistant. I’m here to collect you and take you to him. Is there anything that I can carry for you?” he asked, looking around her feet and just behind her.

  She smiled and nodded back to him. “Hello Mr. Latimer. It’s nice to meet you. Yes, there is something you can carry for me, please.” She turned to one side and indicated the large canvas behind her. She picked up her bags and took them outside, and he stepped into the studio, picked up the canvas, and took it with him to the car.

  Chanel locked the door of the studio, and Andrew helped her into the back of the limousine, closing the door behind her. She looked around at the interior of it and was impressed. It was the nicest looking car she had ever been in, and she hadn’t been expecting a limousine to pick her up, but after the amount of money she was being paid to create the portrait, she wasn’t surprised.

  Andrew sat across from her in the back of the car, and the driver pulled off down the street. She gave him a smile and wondered how he could look so perfectly poised all the time, as if he was a moving photograph out of a gentleman’s clothing magazine.

  “How long have you been Mr. Thomas’ assistant?” she asked, curious about his age as he didn’t look old, and nor did he look young.

  “Three years,” he answered simply, and that was all that he said.

  She waited to see if he would continue with any kind of conversation, and he didn’t. She pressed her lips together thoughtfully and then spoke again. “Do you like it? Is it an interesting job for you?”

  He blinked and she thought that she could see him thinking quickly about it. “It is a very interesting job,” he answered, but then he stopped and did not expound upon his statement, and she wondered if perhaps he might not be allowed to, or if he just had no interest in speaking to her.

  Having tried twice to strike up a conversation and feeling as though she had failed, she let her attempts rest, and she turned instead to look out of the window and watch the city go by. They only went a short way into the heart of the city before the car stopped before a towering office building, and he helped her from the car again.

  Frowning in surprise, she looked up and furrowed her brow, and then turned to face Andrew. “I… I thought that I was staying overnight. This… this is an office building.” She gave her head a slight shake in confusion.

  Andrew nodded. “You are staying overnight, and yes, this is an office building.” He nodded to the limousine driver, and the driver carried Chanel’s bags for her as Andrew picked up the canvas and they all walked into the building together. Andrew led them to an elevator that was separate from the rest of the elevators grouped together in the center of the lobby. He flashed a card key over a black panel and the panel lit up green, and then the elevator doors slid open.

  The car was large, and all three of them fit into it well. The doors closed, and Chanel noticed that there were only two directional buttons; rather than buttons for any floors, there was just one button with an arrow up and another with an arrow down. The elevator went up, and it kept going up and didn’t stop for a long minute, and when it finally did, she was surprised when they walked out into a private office. It was a large office with an expansive view of Boston City and Boston Harbor. She was stunned by it, but she didn’t have time to really look at it, because Andrew was already going through another door and she had to follow both him and the limousine driver as they took to a flight of stairs. It went up one level, and they all came out on the roof.

  “We’re on the roof?” she asked as wind swirled around her.

  Andrew pointed to the big helicopter sitting nearby, and her mouth fell open as she stared at it. All three of them went to it, and the bags and canvas were tucked into the back, followed by Andrew holding his hand out to Chanel to help her into it.

  She’d never been in a helicopter before. She was too surprised to say anything about it, and she climbed in carefully, doing her best to hold her dress down against her legs in the wind. Moments after the door was closed and the driver of the car went back to the staircase, the helicopter motor started and the blades began to whir with terrific force.

  Chanel wanted to ask where they were going, but she had already regretted just about everything that she had said to Andrew, feeling silly for having asked half of it. Guessing that no matter how they were getting there, she must certainly be on her way to see Mr. Thomas, she figured she might as well just sit back and enjoy the unusual rides that were getting her there.

  Looking out of the window, she watched as the building beneath them began to grow smaller, and the city fell away behind them. She was once again surprised when the helicopter turned away from Boston and headed toward the shore, and then passed that as well.

  She realized that she wasn’t sure what to expect, but even with that, she had expected them to remain above land. They didn’t. The metal bird flew out past the coastline and out over the great expanse of the Atlantic Ocean, which rose in undulating waves far below them.

  Saying nothing, she continued to gaze out of the window, and at one point, she planted her hand flat on the glass and gasped, wide eyed at the life forms that she saw swimming near the surface of the sea in the deep blue below them.

  Andrew leaned over and looked out of the window to see what she had been amazed by. “Those are right whales,” he said evenly, “mother and calf. They are seen along the coastline here, but they’re often hit and killed by passing cargo ships. Consequently, they’re on the endangered species list.”

  He leaned back in his seat and folded his hands in his lap, becoming quiet again, as if he might have just given the weather report and was finished speaking about it. She blinked at him and then turned back to the window, getting one last glance at the beautiful whales before the helicopter was too far past them to see them anymore.

  It wasn’t much longer before the machine drew low, closer to the sea, and she saw a massive yacht beneath them. At the top of it nearer to the front of the huge sailing vessel, was a small helicopter landing pad. The bird landed on its target perfectly, and when the blades came to a stop, the door was opened by a man in a white suite, and they were ushered from their flying vehicle.

  Andrew led her from the landing pad down to the main deck, which was the biggest she had ever seen on any private boat, and then he led her into the main cabin and down a spiral staircase to a lower level of the boat.

  They passed through a lounge and bar area and then down a hallway, and he stopped before a cabin door, which he opened for her. Stepping back, he nodded to her that she should enter it first, and she did.

  It was a large room, with surprisingly more space than she had anticipated it might have. She couldn’t believe that she was on a yacht to begin with, especially after being taken there by helicopter, but then to have been given such a luxurious and beautiful room was a great surprise to her.

  There was a large bed, bigger than the one she had in her own bedroom at her house, as well as a full bathroom, a walk-in closet, and a vanity and dresser area. There were windows that looked out onto the sea, and set into the wall was a flat screen television. As a welcome gift, on a small table against one wall, there was a bouquet of fresh flowers, as well as a basket of fruit and a box of chocolates.

  “Will
this do, Miss Barry?” Andrew asked her seriously, setting her bags down on the floor beside the bed.

  She tried not to stare as she looked around herself. “Yes, this will do beautifully, thank you so much.”

  “Very good. When you are ready, I will take you to meet Mr. Thomas. I’ll wait for you in the lounge, just down the hallway.” He gave her a nod and closed the door.

  Chanel whistled soft and low as she gazed around her and wondered at a lifestyle that involved the regular use of limousines, helicopters, and yachts that far outstretched even her imagination. She didn’t have much time to wonder about it though, as she knew that her client was waiting for her. Moving quickly, she put her things away for the overnight stay and slightly touched up her hair and makeup before heading down the hallway to the lounge to find Andrew.

  He was waiting for her as he said he would be, and when she arrived, he walked with her back up the spiral staircase to the main cabin of the boat which included a sitting and dining room with a library at one end, and windows nearly all the way around the room.

  Andrew took her from that room and led her out onto the deck and along the side of the great boat to the front of it, where a beautiful table was set up, and a man was sitting at it having a cup of tea.

  He looked up at them and rose to his feet, taking off his sunglasses. He had pitch black hair which hung about his head in long locks at the back, just to the collar of his crisp white shirt, and in loosely combed waves at his forehead. A few rebellious strands fell forward, just over his sky-blue eyes, which were locked almost magnetically on Chanel.

  The man blinked in surprise and stared at her as Andrew stood between them and made the introduction. “Miss Chanel Barry, this is Mr. Nick Thomas.” Chanel held her hand out to him, feeling as if she was a machine, acting mechanically as she might have been programmed to do. She was grateful, somehow, somewhere, in the back of her mind that her body was on autopilot, because her brain felt as if it had shut down completely just at the sight of the man before her.

  It was as if she had suddenly been struck by lightning, and she couldn’t move or think or breathe, as if she was frozen in place, a living statue, and she wished at the fringes of her barren thoughts that she had some semblance of control over herself at that moment.

  Nick was experiencing much the same thing as he gazed at the woman before him. He had seen her work so many times at galleries and in the homes of his friends and acquaintances, yet he had never actually seen her or any image of her. He had had no idea that she would be as striking, as beautiful as she was, standing there before him, stealing his breath away from him and making him forget that he ever knew anything at all, but there she was, with her hand extended toward him, and he forced himself to remember how to speak.

  “Miss Barry, what an incredible honor to meet you. Thank you so much for coming all the way out here and joining me.” He didn’t know how he had managed to say it, but he was grateful that he had managed to sound intelligible to her.

  Andrew gave him a subtle but sharp look and nodded almost indistinctly at the table and chairs. Nick blinked and realized that he was still holding Chanel’s hand in his and hadn’t bothered at all to let go of it. He released it suddenly and waved his hand toward a chair near the one that he had been sitting in.

  “Please, have a seat.” He gave her a smile and felt as if he had at least gotten something right. He couldn’t believe that she was African-American. He’d never even thought about what her race might be. He also couldn’t believe that she was as young as she was; he had expected an older woman, one of mature age and experience and one who would look more like an aged and artistic type, something along the lines of a citified earth mother, but Chanel Barry was none of those things.

  She was the very essence of a warm summer day—beautiful and dreamy, graceful and elegant—and there was a very present blend of the nuances of a hot summer night in her as well. All of it together gave him a heady feeling, as if he had forgotten how to breathe and didn’t mind at all or as though he might have had one glass of wine too many, dazed and blissful, and didn’t want to sober up at all but would rather remain in the trance of her breathtaking presence.

  Chanel watched him watching her, and she felt a fire deep in her that had sparked the moment her eyes had met his and she had been drawn into them; they were bottomless blue pools of sky and sea, and they had not let her go. She almost felt as if she was drowning in them, and she didn’t want to resurface or look away. Her heart began to pound, and in the far reaches of the back of her mind, she told herself to get a grip and come back to reality.

  Chapter2

  Taking a seat across from him, she smiled widely and drew in a deep breath, remembering faintly that he was a client and that she was there to work. Embers of her professionalism glowed dimly in the recesses of her thoughts, and she did her best to speak and conjugate a sentence.

  “So, Mr. Thomas, I understand that you’d like a portrait of yourself,” she managed to speak, and she took another breath, hoping that it would bring about some semblance of intelligence and present awareness to her mind.

  He blinked and gave her a lopsided smile which made her heart skip a few beats. “Oh, please… call me Nick.”

  She nodded. “Nick. Please call me Chanel.” He agreed.

  “Well, I guess I first saw your work at a friend’s house, and I was so taken with it, so amazed by your incredible talent that I sought out more of your work and discovered that your paintings were shown in galleries along the eastern seaboard. I’ve even found some as far as the west coast and in a few galleries in Europe. I just… fell in love with it. You seem to have an incredible way of capturing the essence of a person’s soul and showing it while the person is in a natural state, almost vulnerable and totally innocent of shame or awareness.

  As if it was just a fraction of a moment, and the viewer just happened to glimpse it, and has stayed there and lingered, unbeknownst to the subject. It’s really incredible.” He was staring at her as he spoke, and it seemed to her that she felt his words, more than she heard them, and that even though everything he said was genuine emotion and thought, he was holding back from her and not revealing all that he thought and felt about her work.

  Chanel felt as if a river of warmth and sweetness was pouring all down inside of her, from her mind down through her heart, and filling her soul. She smiled widely, and her cheeks warmed. “That’s very kind of you, thank you.” She loved to hear that he had seen and sensed so much in her work.

  Nick leaned a little closer to her, his eyes still locked on hers. “I was thinking that… or I guess hoping… that you could somehow capture that same kind of look about me. You see, I’m very much into living a healthy lifestyle, and that includes working out and taking good care of my body. I’m more fit now in my thirties than I’ve ever been, and I would like a portrait of it.

  I’ve worked quite hard to achieve a strong and healthy look, and I know that it won’t always last. I don’t like the way that photographs look as much as I love the way that your paintings seem to make a perfect match of spirit and flesh, and I’m hoping for a more artistic capture of myself both on the inside and the outside. Do you think that that’s possible?” he asked with some hope in his tone.

  She saw his eyes flicker momentarily from her eyes down to her lips, and his lips parted slightly as he breathed in. Then he blinked and looked back up at her, meeting her gaze once more. The sight of him doing so made her heart skip a beat again, and she cleared her throat as flashes of images of him, almost visions of him nude before her canvas, completely took her breath away.

  “Yes.” She cleared her throat and forced herself to look down for a moment before raising her eyes to meet his again. “I think I could do that. I’m very flattered that you chose me.” The corners of her mouth turned up a little in a smile.

  He shrugged slightly. “There could be no one but you to create the highest level of quality and beauty in this kind of work.”
r />   Chanel gave him an appreciative nod, and Andrew cleared his throat. They both looked up at him in surprise and realized that he had been standing there the entire time. Andrew leaned downward and looked at Chanel.

  “May I get a drink for you?” he offered politely, and she heard Nick gasp quietly, realizing that he hadn’t asked her at all.

  “Yes, green tea if you have it please.” She grinned at Andrew, who gave her a quick almost-smile and then turned and disappeared.

  “I’m sorry. I should have asked…” Nick trailed off, and Chanel shook her head and waved her hand in front of her.

  “Not to worry. I’m fine. We were still just meeting, anyway.” She gave him another smile and saw that he seemed to melt under it, and the sight of that created a warmth deep in her that she had not felt in longer than she could remember.

  “How is your room? Will it work all right for you?” he asked, coming to some kind of sense as her host. He had been so lost in her, so totally overwhelmed by her, that he had completely forgotten the airs and graces by which most hosts would have welcomed her aboard. It was as if he had been so spellbound by her that he had forgotten everything else in his head.