Somebody's Knocking at My Door

Chapter One "Kristen, sorry to keep you waiting." Kristen Wakefield turned from studying the oil-on-canvas painting in the antebellum home of Claudette Laurent to see Claudette's husband, Maurice, striding confidently across the drawing room toward her. Gossip had flowed like a river when he had married the wealthy and middle-aged socialite four months ago. Not only was he a junior salesman with the insurance brokerage firm she'd inherited from her father, he was ten years younger. Many thought Maurice had used his charm and good looks to take unfair advantage of Claudette's grief over her father's death several months ago. Kristen hadn't been one of the gossipers. When her widowed mother had unexpectedly fallen in love with Kristen's godfather, Jonathan Delacroix, Kristen had almost ruined their relationship because of her own recent disaster with love. If Claudette had found happiness, Kristen wished her all the best. "Hello, Maurice, I was just enjoying looking at the paintings." Kristen extended her hand. "I think Claudette has the finest collection of nineteenth-century art by people of color in the country." Fit and trim in a tailored, gray pinstriped suit, Maurice smiled graciously as he took her hand into his. She was amazed to find his hand surprisingly soft. "Thank you. Claudette will be happy to hear that. She respects you and your opinion highly." "I feel the same way about her." Kristen caught a whiff of expensive cologne as she glanced around the spacious room with its high ceilings, meticulously restored eighteenth-century furnishings, and gleaming Waterford chandeliers. "You have a magnificent home. I wish it was daylight so I could see the grounds." "Thank you," he said, obviously delighted. "You'll have to come back and we can give you a tour. We love it here. It's close enough to New Orleans for business, but far enough away for us to have our privacy." "You certainly have the best of two worlds." Kristen gently tugged her hand free when he gave no indication of releasing it. "Will Claudett be joining us soon?" Maurice shook his head of neatly trimmed black hair, the expression on his amber-hued face saddened. "I'm afraid not." Dismay surged within Kristen, who was acting on behalf of the Haywood Museum in New Orleans. It had taken months to coordinate their schedules. "Claudette's plane has been delayed in Baton Rouge. She won't be back until much later tonight," Maurice told her. Kristen groaned silently in disappointment. But this wouldn't be the first time a potential donor to the museum had cancelled on her. The very fact that they could donate money or loan valuable pieces for exhibition meant they were wealthy and the demands on them usually high. Claudette wasn't a figurehead; she worked in the firm, just as he father had done before his death. The important thing Kristen had to remember was that Claudette was interested in helping the museum increase its collection of nineteenth-century African-American art by placing her extensive collection or permanent loan and influencing her friends in the art circle of New Orleans to do the same. "I understand. Please let Claudette know that I'll call in a couple of days and make another appointment." Kristen extended her hand again "If you'll call your driver to take me back to the city, I'll say good night." "Nonsense." Maurice caught her hand, then deftly stepped beside her, his other hand going around her slim waist. Kristen couldn't help her start of surprise. He didn't appear to notice. "I just got off the phone with Claudette. She feels terrible that she couldn't meet with you. She made me promise to go on with dinner as planned." "That's really not necessary," Kristen told him, trying to move away. "Claudette and I disagree," he said, steering her smoothly out of the drawing room and into a garden room down the wide hallwayRay, Francis is the author of 'Somebody's Knocking at My Door', published 2003 under ISBN 9780312307349 and ISBN 0312307349.