When Love Calls Read Free Page B

noticed Alyssa and Nina. “I’m sorry, ladies. This is a private reception for guests and patrons only. The gallery will be open to the general public tomorrow morning at ten o’clock.”
    “Jacks, Ms. Wingate and Ms. Hall are my personal guests this evening.”
    “Oh, well, in that case, please enjoy,” she said in a snobbish tone, obviously annoyed to have them there.
    “Here you go, Jacks, I brought this for you,” Oliver said, handing her the last crushed-up crab cake in the napkin.
    “Oh, really? How nice,” she said, peeling the napkin open and looking down at the squished mess in her hand. “Thanks.” She smiled up at him, seeing his very serious, very pleased expression. “Shall we? This way, please.”
    Jacks led the way through a maze of guests standing before large paintings. The gallery was just as crowded as the reception they had just left. “Oh, by the way, this is Jacks, my agent and personal promoter. She’s a true gem,” Oliver said.
    She turned quickly. “Nataliya Parker-Price Duosette. Charmed, I’m sure.” She turned back, waved across the room, then quickly made her way through more guests.
    “Oh. So, where did the name Jacks come from?” Alyssa asked.
    Nataliya turned again and looked at Oliver, apparently not very amused.
    He smiled happily in all sincerity. “Actually that was my idea. I think she looks more like a Jacks, don’t you?”
    “Indubitably,” Nina said seriously, using the same snobbish tone and following his lead.
    Jacks began clapping her hands. “Excuse me, excuse me, people. People, please, might I have your attention?” The room began to settle down with only a few hushed voices still chatting, Oliver’s being one of them. “Ladies, gentlemen, honored guests, patrons of the arts, I have the distinct pleasure of introducing our guest of honor…” she began, then unfolded a small piece of paper and started reading the list of accolades.
    “Thought I was just some knucklehead off the street, didn’t you?” Oliver whispered proudly to Alyssa and Nina, still standing between them.
    “You’re still some knucklehead off the street,” they returned in unison, as if on cue. Alyssa and Nina chuckled silently at the coincidence.
    “…the brilliant artistry of our honored guest, a man far beyond his years and time. Please join me in welcoming artist, Renaissance man, genius…”
    “No wonder you have a big head. Look what she fills it up with,” Nina whispered in a low voice.
    “…Oliver Watts.”
    Oliver laughed at her remark, then raised his hand as the guests began applauding wildly and he stepped up to take center stage. Nina laughed and shook her head. “Who exactly is that guy?” she asked, joining in the applause around her.
    Alyssa smiled and applauded gingerly. In reality, her thoughts were still half a block away, looking into Senator Randolph Kingsley’s eyes. “Good question,” she uttered quietly. “Who exactly is that guy?”
    Oliver began talking. As usual, his engaging personality and boyish charm captivated everyone in the room. Nina and the other assembled guests listened intently, but Alyssa had tuned out. She stepped back and excused herself, walked toward the perimeter of the room, then inched her way away from the main gallery.
    Standing by the window, she watched pedestrians hurry by on their way to wherever they were going as cars sped toward their destinations. Then, for some reason, her thoughts veered to him, Senator Randolph Kingsley. Where he was going next, what he did to relax, what he watched on television, what he liked to eat, what his childhood was like, if he was seeing anyone.
    “Whoa, where did that come from?” she said to herself.
    Getting caught up in the excitement of the evening was one thing, but daydreaming about one of the most prominent senators in the country was another. He was an African-American, single, straight male, and she was certain that half the female population—black, white, brown and