Yahrah St. John - Taming Her Billionaire

Bailey flashed a disapproving look at her ensemble before starting in on her. “How many times must I remind you about promptness, Tahlia?”

Tahlia sighed. “I’ve lost count.” It was only a few minutes after 9:00 a.m., and there were no patrons in the gallery. Most didn’t arrive until just before noon. She didn’t understand why Bailey insisted on riding her. It wasn’t like she didn’t stay late when needed.

“Then I would think you’d remember to be on time,” Bailey reminded, “but that’s inconsequential. I’ve just been told that our new owner will be arriving to this morning’s staff meeting. Come, the attorney is here.”

She ushered them toward the back of the house where Bailey’s office, Tahlia and Faith’s even smaller office and the small kitchenette were housed.

When she arrived, Tahlia found Robert Kellogg, Arthur’s attorney, already seated. She smiled and he returned it with one of his own. Only the two of them knew what she was privy to but would soon be revealed to the group.

Tahlia took a seat at the six-seater table while Bailey sat at the head of the table with Robert and Faith flanking her to her left.

“Mr. Kellogg, we’re very eager to hear news of the new owner,” Bailey began. “Please fill us in.”

“And I am eager to share with you,” Robert returned.

“I’m just so sorry to hear of Mr. Knight’s passing. He was a lover of the arts. Of course, I had no idea he actually owned the gallery.” Bailey chuckled nervously.

“He preferred to keep his interests private,” Robert said, looking in Tahlia’s direction.

Bailey glanced at Tahlia with a raised brow. Could she tell that the gauntlet was about to drop on her? Tahlia was just happy that Robert was here to give the news.

“As I mentioned to you a couple of days ago, Ms. Smith,” Robert began, “the reading of Arthur Knight’s will occurred yesterday and Arthur Knight was named as owner of Art Gallery Twenty-One, and he bequeathed it...”

“Will his son Maximus be taking over the gallery?” Bailey asked, interrupting him.

“No, Arthur had someone else in mind.”

Bailey’s eyes lit up with anticipation. “Who, then?”

Robert turned to face Tahlia. “Ms. Smith, meet the new owner of Art Gallery Twenty-One.”

“W-what?” Bailey’s eyes grew wide with disbelief. “I—I don’t understand.”

“Omigod!” Faith’s hand flew to her mouth.

“All right, then let me be clear. Arthur Knight bequeathed the gallery to Ms. Armstrong. She is the gallery’s new owner.” He slid the deed of ownership over to Tahlia.

“That simply can’t be,” Bailey said. “Why would he do such a thing? She—” Bailey motioned toward Tahlia “—is a lowly gallery assistant, while I have been running this gallery for over three years.”

Robert shrugged and closed his briefcase. “I don’t know what to tell you, but the will is a fait accompli. Ms. Armstrong.” He glanced at Tahlia, who couldn’t resist sporting a huge grin at Bailey’s disbelief that she actually owned the gallery. “If you need anything, please—” he handed her his business card “—give me a call. Arthur asked me to be at your disposal for whatever questions you might have as you take on your new ventures.”

“Ventures? As in plural?” Bailey inquired incredulously. “What else did he give you?”

“Good day.” Robert nodded at Tahlia and left the room, leaving the three women sitting at the table.

“This is such great news,” Faith said and rushed from around the table to give Tahlia a warm hug. “I can’t believe it. You own the gallery. But why don’t you seem surprised? Did you know already?”

Tahlia nodded. “I received a letter from Mr. Kellogg that Arthur requested the gallery be given to me upon his death, but I didn’t have the actual paperwork until now.” She held up the deed in her hand.

“You!” The one word from Bailey that came across the table was bitter and caused Tahlia and Faith to both look up in alarm.

Bailey’s normally porcelain skin was red with fury. “You own the gallery! What did you do? Sleep with the old man?” She laughed. “You must have. How else to explain why a wealthy man like Arthur Knight would give a gallery to you, a peon, a nobody.”

Anger boiled in Tahlia’s veins. She wouldn’t be put down by this woman a second longer. She’d been Bailey’s whipping boy—or girl, for that matter—for two years, but no more. “Watch yourself, Bailey. Be very, very careful before you utter another word.”

“Why? Because you’ll fire me?” Bailey laughed, throwing her head back. “Well, don’t bother. I quit!”

“Good, you’ve made my life easy,” Tahlia responded, facing the angry-faced woman. “I don’t have to fire you. Please pack your belongings and don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

Bailey took a step toward Tahlia. “You’ve no idea how to run this gallery. Mark my words, you’ll be out of business within the year because you’re a flighty ditz.”

“Get out!”

“Gladly.” Bailey stormed from the conference room.

Tahlia followed Bailey to her office. She watched her open and close drawers and bang items around as she packed a box. She was keeping an eye on the woman because she wouldn’t put it past Bailey to try to sabotage her. Her former boss was packed in five minutes flat and stalking toward the front door, her stilettos hitting the wood floor like spikes. When the door finally slammed behind her, Tahlia let out a long sigh of relief and leaned against one of the walls.

“Wow! That was dramatic,” Faith commented from behind her.

Tahlia breathed in deeply before she spoke. “Yes, it was. I just hope she wasn’t right.”

“Right about what?” Faith asked, folding her arms across her chest. “About you failing? That’s a lot of hogwash. Bailey just had sour grapes because Arthur Knight didn’t leave her the gallery. Though I shouldn’t be surprised it was you. You and he always did have a special bond.”

“Yeah, we did.” Tahlia became wistful as she glanced at one of the benches where they used to sit. With her father gone, Arthur had been like a father figure to her, filling a void she hadn’t known she’d needed filled until she had someone to confide in about her hopes, her dreams and her fears. She remembered sitting with Arthur during his lunch hour and talking at length. He hadn’t wanted to go back to the office. Instead, he wished he was in the Louvre in Paris. With Lucius’s mother, perhaps?

“Don’t worry.” Faith reached across and patted Tahlia’s arm. “You’ll do great. You’ve always had tons of great ideas that Bailey would never listen to. But this place—” she spread her arms wide “—is yours now. And you can do with it as you please. Invite whatever artists you want to exhibit.”

Tahlia beamed as she stood up from the wall. “You’re right. We’re—” she pointed to Faith “—going to do great things here. And Bailey Smith will rue the day she ever underestimated me.”

And so would Maximus Xavier Knight. If Kaitlynn was right in her assumption that he would try to charm her, then Tahlia was going to have to have her wits about her.

Chapter 3

Maximus pulled his blue Bugatti sports car in front of Art Gallery Twenty-One later that evening. He’d tried unsuccessfully to make it earlier so he could invite Tahlia out for lunch. His schedule had been an endless array of meetings as he tried to keep Knight Shipping clients calm. They were all worried with Arthur’s death about the status of the company. And quite frankly, so was Maximus. How was he supposed to run a company with only half the power? He needed to be free and clear to make decisions unilaterally. But those days were gone. He’d have to consult big brother Lucius as well as Tahlia on every major decision that he made. The machinery deal had stalled, but the luxury vehicle opportunity was still on the horizon. They had to strike while the iron was hot.