Despite their undeniable connection, however, given Lola’s reaction to her mother’s obvious attempt at matchmaking, she was practically wearing a Keep Away sign on her back. He’d been shocked to realize Lola was single, when guys must surely be begging her to be with them every second of every day.
Then again, what man could possibly be good enough for Lola Sullivan?
Duncan knew he wasn’t.
Every day since he’d walked away from his family’s venture capital firm and started his own, Duncan had worked to make amends to the people who had been hurt by his brother Alastair’s crimes. Lola’s class was the first weekend he’d carved out for his own pursuits in five years. And even then, the only reason he was in Bar Harbor was because Gail, his office manager, had given Lola’s class to him as a birthday present. Gail had made it clear that she would be insulted if he didn’t use her gift. She’d made more than one concerned comment over the years about the long and punishing hours he spent in the office, and she clearly wanted him to take some time off for himself.
Duncan had been charmed by Bar Harbor immediately upon arriving in town earlier that morning. He’d always loved being by the sea. It was different here than Boston, though. The big-city smells and sounds had been replaced by a laid-back, small-town feel. When he’d driven in from the airport, he’d been pleasantly surprised to realize that only a mere handful of blocks from downtown Bar Harbor was nature at its finest. With rocky, windy shores, the Maine ocean was both stunningly beautiful and a serious force to be reckoned with. Lush green trees and forests covered nearly every bit of land that hadn’t been domesticated, and when Duncan rolled down the window of his rental car, he’d breathed in pure, unpolluted oxygen.
Now, Duncan breathed in Lola’s intoxicating scent as she leaned over his shoulder to show him a more effective way to use the new nib she’d lent him. He was not only learning a great deal from her, he was also encouraged by the positive remarks she made about his work, especially given that she seemed to know quite a bit about the specialized world of hand-drawn cartography.
Her office phone rang and when she saw the number, she made her apologies to the group. “I don’t normally take calls during classes, but this is a distributor I’ve been hoping to work with.”
After everyone said it was no problem, she picked up the phone. Though she pitched her voice as low as possible to keep from distracting her students, Duncan was sitting close enough not only to overhear, but also to see her face in profile.
Unfortunately, both her tone and expression soon changed from pleased to disappointed.
“Surely,” he heard her say, “you can decide whether you want to distribute my textiles without meeting for dinner again? I’ve already given you my sales figures and new designs.” Her frown deepened at the person’s response. “Whether I’m single or not has nothing to do with a potential business partnership.” She pressed her lips together hard at the reply, her skin flushing with what looked to Duncan like a mix of frustration and anger. “I’m in the middle of teaching a class, so I can’t discuss this any further. But based on today’s conversation, I don’t think my company is a good fit with yours. Good-bye.”
She looked a little shaken as she hung up the phone, and Duncan realized his fingers had clenched around his pen.
Lola took a moment to compose herself before turning back to her students with a smile. “Sorry about that. Now, who needs help with something?”
He wanted to ask her if she was all right. He also wanted to know how many times she’d had to deal with such blatant sexism. But she obviously wanted to move on as if it hadn’t happened.
Too soon, the workshop came to an end. Lola showered everyone with compliments on their work, drawing them even more under her spell. Her mother, Beth, was best described as warm and adorable. But while Lola was warm, she was also dazzling. On every level—personal and professional.
As Duncan and his fellow students had worked on their drawing projects throughout the day, she had done several great freehand drawings to show them the techniques she wanted them to master. What’s more, the textiles pinned around her studio looked extremely marketable. While she seemed happy in her small, sunlit studio in Bar Harbor, and she’d mentioned working with retail stores throughout Maine, she could easily go global. All it would take was the right investor behind her. And, of course, not having to deal with sexist jerks like the man she’d spoken with on the phone.
Duncan quickly justified the need to stay behind after class by telling himself that since she had helped him with his drawing skills, now he could return the favor by offering suggestions about potential avenues to grow her business. LS Textiles could become an international powerhouse, and he’d love to help her get there. Plus, he couldn’t stand the thought of not seeing her again. The sooner he could see her smile and hear her laugh, the better.
Though the students hadn’t known one another to begin with, they included him in their warm embraces at the end of class. A tall, muscular man, he always went out of his way to make sure people didn’t feel threatened by his presence, and he was glad that everyone had been comfortable with him in class. He also appreciated the way the women insisted he stay in touch as part of their newly formed drawing group.
After the other students had left, he said to Lola, “I know you’ve already given up your day to the class, but I’d like to speak with you about something. Could I convince you to have a quick cup of coffee with me?”
When she paused before replying, he was surprised to realize that she was going to turn him down. Duncan couldn’t remember the last time a woman had said no to one of his invitations. But Lola wasn’t like any other woman he’d known.
But instead of saying no, she asked, “What do you want to talk with me about?”
His invitation had clearly made her wary. But was it him specifically who made her wary? Or was it men in general? He knew enough beautiful women—although none as stunning as Lola—to understand that beauty wasn’t always a bonus. On the contrary, it could be a huge burden when a woman wanted to be taken seriously. Her phone call that afternoon with the distributor proved that in spades.
“I’d like to speak with you about your business,” he clarified, to make sure she knew he wasn’t planning to hit on her, even though eight hours with her in a group class wasn’t nearly enough.
She frowned. “Were you unhappy with the class?”
“It was great. You’re a fantastic teacher. But it’s your textile designs I’d like to discuss. As I said earlier, cartography is just a hobby. I work in venture capital.”
A faint expression of disappointment moved across her face, though her tone was more teasing than condemning as she said, “And here I thought you were one of the good guys.”
“Every day, I do whatever I can to be a good guy.” Though he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to wipe his slate completely clean, he’d go to his grave trying. “I’d be happy to walk you through my portfolio of companies so that you can see that the people I work with are honest, hardworking, and talented. Whatever time you can spare to talk with me about your company, I’d appreciate.”
Again, she made him sweat as he waited for her reply. Men, he figured, sweated in Lola Sullivan’s presence a great deal.