Golden Lies - Barbara Freethy [10]
What was she now? The annoying question entered her mind again. Each day it seemed to come back louder than before, more insistent, more demanding of an answer. And it wasn't just about her father, but about her mother and her grandfather and her role in the company. She was restless, itching to do something more important at Hathaway's than plan parties and museum events. But with her grandfather at the helm of the company, her father as head buyer, her mother in charge of operations, and long time family friend Martin Bennett overseeing the retail division, there was nowhere for Paige to go. The company ran smoothly without her. No one really needed her— except they did, because the irony was that she was the heir, the only heir. The company could never belong to Victoria, because she wasn't a blood Hathaway. David didn't want to do anything but buy art objects, and Martin wasn't a blood relative. Which meant it would all one day belong to Paige.
But what was she supposed to do in the meantime? Just wait for her turn? That's what they all seemed to want. A sigh escaped her lips as her thoughts led her down a familiar, wearying maze from which there was no way out. She was relieved when Riley cleared his throat and made a point of checking his watch. At least his irritation distracted her from her thoughts.
"This is all very fascinating, but how much longer do you think your father will be?" he asked. "It's been over an hour."
"I'm sure he'll be here soon."
Mr. Lo stood up and bowed to them. "Thank you very much for your attention."
"Thank you for the delightful presentation. I learned a great deal," Nan said.
"I am glad you were pleased."
"Thank you, Mr. Lo," Paige said as he left the table.
"Now then, Miss Hathaway," Riley said. "Let's talk about my grandmother's dragon."
"Before we do that, I need to use the ladies' room," Nan interrupted, getting to her feet.
"Out that door to the right," Paige told her.
"I'll go with you," Millie said. "I drank so much tea I'm about to float away."
As soon as they left, Paige wished she'd gone with them. Riley had the sharpest, bluest eyes she'd ever seen, and right now his gaze was fixed on her. She shifted in her chair, not used to such a close, deliberate appraisal. She wondered what he saw, and she practically had to sit on her hands to prevent herself from reaching up to make sure her hair was still in place.
"You look nervous," Riley commented. "Why is that? Is there something about this ugly dragon I should know?"
At least he thought the dragon was making her nervous and not him. That was a relief. "I'm just distracted. I have a lot of work to do."
"So do I. Yet here we are, having tea."
"What kind of work do you do, Mr. McAllister?"
"I run a security company."
"What does that entail? Bodyguards? Computer security? Burglar alarms?"
"All of the above, whatever the customer needs. Who does the security for this store? Do you know?"
"Of course I know. It's Wellington Systems."
He nodded. "I thought I recognized some of their work, but they're not the best anymore. Bret Wellington spends more time on the golf course than he does on keeping up with the latest security systems."
"Mr. Wellington is a good friend of my grandfather."
"That explains it, then."
"I suppose you think your company is better."
"I suppose I do," he replied, a small smile on his lips.
She played with the napkin in her lap, wishing the ladies would come back because Rile made her nervous.
"So, why is my grandmother's dragon so popular?" Riley asked. "Frankly, when I first saw it, I thought we should toss it in the trash."
"It's good you didn't. If it's truly a bronze from the Zhou period, then it's quite old.