Rebecca Winters: Manhattan Merger

Though the window air conditioner worked well, Rainey felt perspiration bead her forehead.

“Thanks for getting back to me so fast. I have to admit I’m a little anxious.”

“After talking to Don, I think we’re going to be all right. Where are you?”

“Near Eighty-Sixth Street and Lexington.”

“That’s good. Can you be at my office by ten?”

Rainey’s green eyes widened. “You mean today?”

“Absolutely. The sooner we put out this fire, the better.”

That didn’t sound good.

“I’ll explain when you get here. Come to the second floor. Make a left. I’m at the end of the hall.”

The line went dead.

With heart pounding, Rainey showered and dressed in a straw colored wraparound skirt and pale blue cotton top. She brushed her gilt-blond hair which had been styled in a feather cut, slid on sandals and flew out the door of her furnished studio apartment.

There was no elevator, however the stairs were carpeted. She hurried down three flights to the entrance of the pre-World War II building, calling out hello to several people who lived there.

She’d been lucky to find a place this close to the Metropolitan Museum. Her rent might be horrible, and the landlord didn’t allow pets which forced her to leave her dog behind with her parents. However this was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

If things didn’t work out and her commissions fell off, she’d go back to Colorado. But she didn’t anticipate that happening anytime soon.

So far the conversation with the attorney had sounded the only discordant note since she’d moved here four months ago.

After living in a small town all her life, she felt tiny walking between the skyscrapers. New York was like being in a different universe with every race and type of person represented. She loved the explosion of humanity amid the famous landmarks. Rainey loved the smells and sounds.

She loved Manhattan.

There was a pulse throbbing here. She was now a part of it. That’s what made every day exciting.

Until today.

Since the phone call she’d had this awful pit in her stomach.

What if she’d done something so terrible, her happiness would be taken away?

Fear made her walk faster.

She entered Red Rose Publishers and took the stairs to the second floor. After reaching the end of the hall she entered the legal department and walked over to the front desk.

“I’m Lorraine Bennett. Grace Carlow is expecting me.”

A young female receptionist told her to go on back to the first door on her left. Rainey complied.

“Good! You’re on time.” The attorney waved her inside. She was a tall, big-boned woman who was probably in her early sixties. She wore a white pantsuit with a black and white houndstooth print blouse. From the crown of her upswept blond hair she pulled down her glasses and studied Rainey for a moment.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-seven.”

“You don’t look a day over twenty-one. Lucky you. Call me Grace.” She smiled and extended her hand which Rainey shook. “Sit down.”

Rainey took the chair opposite her desk. “I take it I’ve painted a celebrity by accident.”

The woman made a funny noise in her throat. “Ever heard of the Sterling bank of America?”

She bit her lip. “Who hasn’t?”

“Ever heard of Sterling Shipping lines?”

Rainey’s body started to feel heavier in the chair. She nodded.

“Ever hear of U.S. Supreme Court Justice Richard Sterling?”

“Yes,” Rainey whispered.

“Ever hear of Senator Phyllis Sterling-Boyce? Ambassador Lloyd Sterling? Rear Admiral Daniel Sterling?”

Her eyes closed tightly for a moment. “Of course.”

By now Rainey was squirming.

Grace handed her a recent publication of World Fortune Magazine. “The whole lot of them don’t even count compared to this Sterling.”

Rainey took one look at the man on the cover and gasped.

King of Glass New York Billionaire-soon-to-be-Trillionaire Payne Sterling discovers ancient burial ground while mucking about with fiber-optic cable in his underworld kingdom close to Wall Street.

She read the caption twice before she studied the man in hard hat and jeans resting against an enormous cable.

Like pure revelation she understood why she’d been so drawn to him that she’d felt compelled to put his face and body to canvas.

“Oh boy.” Rainey’s voice shook before she handed the magazine back to Grace.

The attorney eyed her with compassion. “Oh boy is right. He’s the embodiment of one of the sons of the Earl of Sterling who left England for America to build an empire of his own.”

She tapped the cover. “This one shuns publicity like it was the plague of mankind, but he’s so damned attractive it still comes after him, innocently or otherwise.”

She winked at Rainey who groaned out loud.

“Cynthia Taft, the newest attorney to join our staff, handled Manhattan Merger while I was on a leave of absence. She came to us from Los Angeles and probably didn’t catch the likeness because Payne Sterling is a celebrity in a very different pond than that of Hollywood.

“When I returned, I noticed his likeness on the cover and brought it to Claud’s attention. However he said not to worry about it because there’d been no trouble with the other covers. What was done, was done, and this wouldn’t be the first time an artist had unwittingly painted a cover that resembled a real person.”

“Except that I did draw his face from memory,” Rainey admitted.

“According to Don, you do that quite often.”

“Yes.”

“As I told you on the phone, I think we’re going to be fine, but it will take the rest of the day to prepare our case.”

Her pulse raced faster. “Case?”

“His attorney has already filed papers with the court. A judge is going to hold a closed door hearing tomorrow at two o’clock, so we have our work cut out.”

“What?” Rainey cried out aghast. “You mean he’s suing me?”

“You, the author Bonnie Wrigley and Red Rose Publishers.”

“Good heavens-”

Grace’s eyebrows lifted. “Don’t forget you’re dealing with a Sterling. The name moves mountains. But not to worry. He won’t win.

“By the way, who’s the person at Global Greeting Cards who will give us an affidavit to the effect that you haven’t put Mr. Sterling on any of their products?”

That was easy. “Saul Goldberg.”

She nodded. “I know Saul. Good man. All right. First things first. If we can get your mother and brother here in twenty-four hours, let’s do it. Red Rose will be paying their expenses.”

“Mom could come. But I don’t know if it’s possible to reach my brother in time.”

Grace eyed her intently. “Try. Mr. Sterling’s attorney, Drew Wallace, is the best there is if you know what I mean. He’s pulled this in the hope of catching us un-prepared, but we’ll show him.”

Rainey admired the other woman’s grit. Though she didn’t know anything about Grace Carlow, she had an idea the attorney was actually enjoying this.

“I’ll have to phone the company Craig works for and see if they can find him. My mother knows the number.”

“As long as you’re phoning her, tell her to bring that photograph with her. One more thing. Don said you do preliminary sketches before you start your paintings. Where are your drawings of Mr. Sterling?”

She gave Grace a sheepish glance. “The old ones are stored at my parents’ home.”

“Do you have pictures of them on disk?”

“No, only the finished portraits. Those disks are at my apartment.”

“I see. Tell your mother to bring the drawings too. When you get back to your apartment, burn the new ones!” she fired.