Kitabı oku: «Gilded Secrets», sayfa 2
No, she wouldn’t jeopardize her job, her newfound security, for a passing flirtation. No good could come of that. So Charlie reined in her hormones and then tied them down nice and tight. She didn’t need to be indulging in any fantasies about her boss, for heaven’s sake. What she needed to be doing was impressing the hell out of him—as she’d spent the past week doing—so she could keep this job.
Every step up the ladder was a good one. Charlie had plans. She wouldn’t always be an assistant. She was going to keep learning the business, eventually get her master’s in art history and then get a job as curator or an art specialist there at the house. Just as Ann Richardson, their CEO, had done when she was starting out. The higher Charlie climbed the proverbial ladder, the better the life she could provide for herself and her son.
Jake was what mattered, she reminded herself sternly. Her baby boy was counting on her and she wasn’t going to let him down.
With that thought firmly in mind, Charlie dismissed all her earlier notions about Vance Waverly and got back to work. Picking up a file folder from the edge of her desk, she headed for the jewelry salesroom on the second floor. She had the provenances for several pieces to deliver.
Plush carpet muffled her steps as she walked down the long halls toward the elevator. Throughout the floor, she heard typing and quiet phone conversations. It was a rarified atmosphere up on the seventh floor. Here was where the officers of Waverly’s worked, made the decisions that kept the auction house one of the top of its kind in the world. And here she would make her mark, she told herself as she stepped into the elevator and punched the button for the second floor.
The doors slid shut on a whisper and the subtle strains of classical music sighed out around her. She caught her reflection in the polished brass doors and smiled. When the doors opened again, she walked along gleaming wood floors, listening idly to the click of her own heels tapping out a fast beat.
The first two floors of the venerable old building were devoted to the salesrooms. Each of them was different. Each of them beautiful in its own way.
Polished oak floorboards stretched for what seemed like miles. Paintings and sculptures lined the walls and huge vases filled with fresh flowers created a subtle scent that permeated the air.
The hush of this floor was almost churchlike, and why not? Here was where the treasures of the world came to be admired, and then sold to live again with someone new. Charlie walked to the far room and stepped through the wide, double doorway.
“Charlie!” A male voice called her name and she turned.
Justin Dawes was walking toward her. Justin was the head of the precious-gem department at Waverly’s. About forty, he was balding, far too thin and his kind blue eyes were always narrowed in a squint. He had told her once it was the curse of his profession. Too many hours looking through jeweler’s loupes at the stones he loved so much.
Today Justin looked a little harried and less than his urbane self. His tie was loosened and the sleeves of his white dress shirt were rolled up to the elbow. His suit coat had been abandoned and thin wisps of brown hair stood straight up at the crown of his head.
“You have the provenances?”
“Right here,” she said and handed over the file.
“Good. That’s great.” He flipped through them, then shot her a look. “They’ve been verified?”
“Over and over again,” she said, smiling. “Justin, you checked all the stones yourself, remember? Even before the provenances came through. Don’t worry. Everything’s good.”
“It’s an important collection,” he told her, glancing back into the room where an auction would be held in two days. “Want to take a look?”
“I really do.”
He took her arm and guided her into the center of the room.
Lighting was everything in an auction house, and Waverly’s spared no expense in seeing things done right. Around the circumference of the huge, oak-paneled room, glass cases stood beneath spotlights that shone down on the fabulous items inside those cases. Those lights made the precious gems glitter and shine like fallen stars—or pieces of a rainbow.
Charlie couldn’t stop the sigh of appreciation. They turned in a slow circle, admiring the whole setup before Justin said, “Come look at this one piece. It’s amazing.”
“Oh, my,” she whispered as she followed Justin toward a single display case. Beneath the glass lay a swell of black velvet and on that velvet was a necklace unlike anything she’d ever seen before.
Gold wire, as thin and fragile as a single strand of hair, dripped with rubies and diamonds. The stones themselves were wrapped in the gold thread, then left to dangle like dreams from the slender chain that made up the base of the piece. The rubies shone like fresh blood and the diamonds were …
“It’s beautiful.”
“Isn’t it?” Justin stared at the stones like a man in love. “Worn by the queen of Cadria more than a hundred years ago. It was crafted especially for her—some say, by Fabergé himself.” He sighed a little. “Of course, we can’t prove that, because even Cadria’s royal family today doesn’t know for sure. A shame, really. Wouldn’t that have looked impressive in the provenance? But still, stunning.”
Charlie shook her head as she looked at the necklace. She wanted to touch it but was terrified to breathe too close to it. “It’s amazing, Justin. But why is the king of Cadria auctioning off so many of the royal jewels?”
“Ah,” he said with a wink, “the current king is honoring his grandmother by establishing a charity in her name, and the proceeds from this sale are going directly to that. Plus, he thinks the publicity from this sale will spur more donors to support his grandmother’s charity.”
“Still seems a shame to get rid of something that belongs to your whole family.”
“Oh, don’t worry about royals, sweetie,” Justin told her. “They have more jewelry and shiny stuff than they know what to do with. These pieces probably won’t even be missed.”
“I would miss a necklace like that,” she said softly. “I’d be too scared of breaking or losing the darn thing to actually wear it, but I would miss it.”
“You’ve got a soft heart, Charlie,” Justin told her with a grin. “Which means you’ll love the legend of the necklace.”
“A legend?”
“Oh, yes. All the best stones come with a legend. Apparently, the then-king had this crafted especially for his bride as a wedding present. It’s said the rubies are charmed somehow and hold the secret to a long and happy marriage.”
Charlie looked over at him and smiled as her heart twisted in her chest. What would that be like, she wondered, to be loved so much? She thought of the queen who had worn it and the king who had clearly adored her and thought that sometimes, real life was even better than fairy tales. “That’s lovely.”
Justin winked at her. “Yeah. And it should really push up the price on the necklace, too. Nothing a bidder likes more than a little history added to a piece.”
She laughed. Couldn’t help it. “You’re shameless.”
“Guilty as charged,” he admitted with a grin.
Charlie reached out one hand toward the glass enclosure, then stopped before touching it. Her fingers curled into her palm.
“It’s okay. Alarms are turned off for the moment. Here, let me show you.” Justin lifted the glass case off the tall wooden base and allowed the necklace the freedom to shine.
“Even prettier,” she said on a sigh. Though it was so far out of her range of possibilities it might as well have been on Mars, Charlie couldn’t help the tickle of avarice that made her want to snatch it up.
“You want to pet it?” he asked, laughing.
“Pet it, try it on, wear it home and sing it to sleep,” Charlie admitted, deliberately putting her hands behind her back to keep herself from giving in to the urge to touch those glittering stones that shone so warmly under the lights.
“Can’t blame you,” Justin said. “And with your coloring, it would look gorgeous on you.”
She thought so, too. In fact, Charlie could almost feel the cool glide of the gold against her skin and the icy feel of each stone settling into place around her neck. Oh, it would be wonderful as well as terrifying to own something that looked so … magical. Then she imagined the expression on Vance Waverly’s handsome face as he draped that priceless necklace around her throat and—Okay. Stop it!
Clearing her mind of thoughts that had no business being there she said, “Yes, well. When I marry a rich prince, I’ll be sure to tell him what kind of necklace to have made for me.”
Justin laughed. “There you go. I like a woman with a plan.”
He set the glass cover back into place and Charlie let her gaze slide around the room. Tomorrow, this room would be filled with rows of straight-backed, velvet-tufted chairs. A podium would be centered at the end of the room and the sound system would be hooked up. The day after that, this room would be bustling with bidders from all over the world, each of them hoping to take home a small piece of the long-dead queen’s collection.
Charlie had already signed on to work the auction in whatever capacity she was needed, but she wouldn’t be envying the buyers. Justin was right, she thought. Charlie did have a plan. But it didn’t include diamonds and rubies. It entailed working her way to the very top of the auction world and being able to buy a house with a yard for her son to play in. Before he was too old to be interested in playing.
Charlie Potter wasn’t the kind of woman men draped in diamonds, and that was okay with her. These pieces were lovely to look at, but the truth was, she’d be too afraid of losing them to ever enjoy owning them.
She had nothing in common with the kind of people who could come in here and walk out with a queen’s jewelry. Which meant, she reminded her hormones, that she had nothing in common with Vance Waverly. That a few minutes of relaxed conversation wasn’t the go-ahead for her to get all dreamy-eyed over him. Besides, she told herself, it was important to pause and remember what had happened the last time she had let her heart take control of her mind.
Three
She took a deep breath, forced a bright smile and said, “You’ve done an amazing job, Justin.”
“Thanks.” He swept the room with an experienced eye. “I think so, too. Should be a hell of an auction. You’ll be working it, right?”
“Oh, I’ll be here.”
“Thought you would.” He gave her a knowing wink.
In the two years she’d been at Waverly’s, she had spent as much time working the actual sales as possible. Her love of auctions had started in college when her roommate had dragged her to a small auction of movie memorabilia. That was all it had taken.
The fast-paced bidding, the treasures from the past and the excited atmosphere sparked by the people attending had all come together to energize Charlie in a way she’d never experienced before. She had loved the whole thing. Every moment. She had watched the bidders, studied the auctioneer and thrilled to the quick pace of items bought and sold. She’d felt a stirring of excitement she had never known and that was enough to set her on the path that had eventually led her to Manhattan and her entry-level job at Waverly’s.
She’d learned everything she could about the auction world and studied both this house and the other stately auction houses. She had wanted to be part of something amazing and every time she walked into this wonderful old building, she felt as if she’d accomplished her dream. At least, the first part of it.
Charlie made a point of working the auctions here, to support Waverly’s, to help where she could and to continue to learn the ins and outs of a business that seemed to change daily. From the first moment she had stepped inside Waverly’s, she had known that she’d found where she belonged. And the feeling had only intensified since that day.
“You know me,” she said quietly, her gaze sliding across the familiar, the exciting. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
“Excellent. We’ll need as many hands as possible behind the scenes.”
“Sure.” Thankfully, the day-care facility at Waverly’s was open during all the auctions so that employees could leave their children somewhere safe while they worked. Jake did love being with all of his little friends and … She checked her watch. “I’ve gotta go, Justin. Thanks for the grand tour.”
“No problem,” he said, already opening the file she’d brought him to study the provenances. “See you Saturday.”
“Right.” She turned and walked out of the luscious display of jewels that were the stuff of dreams. Taking the elevator up two floors, she eagerly left behind dreams for a chance to see her reality.
“I’m not going to dignify these unfounded rumors with a response,” Ann Richardson said softly, her gaze sweeping the board members gathered around the long, cherrywood conference table. “And I hope I can count on all of you for your support.”
People shifted uncomfortably in their seats, but Vance held perfectly still, his gaze fixed on the woman facing them down with the air of a young queen. Tall and willowy, Ann had her ice-blond hair styled into a perfect, curled-under style that ended at her jawline. Her blue eyes were sharp as she met the stares of the other board members. She wore one of her elegantly tailored business suits—this one black with gray pinstripes—and her chin was lifted at a defiant angle. She looked proud and strong as she silently dared anyone to contradict her.
Vance had always admired Ann Richardson, but never more so than right now. With the article in the newspaper, the entire city would be whispering about her, speculating about her. But it seemed that she had chosen a path to take—steely indifference—and he had to applaud it. If she fought the charges with a vehement argument, it would only spur on the talk. She couldn’t admit they were true—even if they were. The only road she could take was the “no comment” route. By doing it here first, with the board, she would be able to gauge how well it would go over elsewhere.
The board members looked shaken and worried and he knew they were all thinking about the possible ramifications of this situation. If it wasn’t cleared up soon, rumor would become suspicion and suspicion would become fact. Whether or not she was guilty of anything, Ann’s career and reputation could very well be destroyed—along with Waverly’s.
Seconds ticked past and the quiet in the room was deafening. Here on the seventh floor, the boardroom was a study in understated elegance. The walls were a pale beige, the crown molding a stark white. Old masters hung on the walls and a twisted brass sculpture of Atlas balancing the world on his shoulders stood in one corner.
Vance held his peace, since he wanted to hear everyone else’s reactions before he spoke. He knew he wouldn’t have to wait long. It took about ten seconds.
“It’s outrageous is what it is,” George Cromwell sputtered first.
“These innuendoes are baseless,” Ann insisted, her voice calm. “I would never put Waverly’s at risk, and I hope you all know that.”
“Yes, Ann,” George Cromwell said from his seat at the end of the table. “I’m sure we all appreciate your devotion to the company, but this article clearly states that we have a problem.”
Vance saw the flinch Ann couldn’t quite disguise. But since he was the youngest member of the board, he was betting no one else noticed.
“The article is nothing more than rumor and supposition.”
“But it’s smoke,” George insisted. “And people will assume that where there is smoke, there is fire.”
Vance rolled his eyes and shook his head. If there was a cliché, George would find it. At seventy-five, he was long past the age of retiring, but the old fox had no intention of giving up his seat on the board. He liked the power. Liked being able to have a say in things. And right now, it looked as though he was enjoying putting Ann through the wringer.
“How can we take your word for this, when there was clearly enough evidence for this reporter to write his story?”
“Since when does a reporter need to back up a story?” she asked haughtily. “There’s more fiction in the daily papers than you’ll find at the nearest bookstore and you all know it.”
Good point, Vance thought, still regarding their CEO warily. He wished he knew Ann better, but he didn’t. She seemed like a warm, congenial enough person, but she’d made a point of keeping people at a distance, refusing to make friends—and now that strategy just might bite her in the ass.
“People believe what they read,” George intoned darkly.
“George, do hush up.” Edwina Burrows spoke up from the end of the table.
“You know I’m right about this,” the man countered hotly.
As the two older people shot verbal darts at each other, Vance watched Ann. Her mouth worked as if she were grinding her teeth and Vance couldn’t really blame her. It had to be hard, standing in front of this bunch, defending yourself against what was at this point merely rumor.
Finally, she turned to him and asked, “Vance? What about you? As the last remaining Waverly on the board, I value your opinion. Do you believe me?”
He studied her for a long minute. Vance knew that now the others were waiting to hear what he had to say. And he knew that whatever he said would swing sentiment either for or against Ann. His first responsibility was to the company and the thousands of people both here and abroad who depended on Waverly’s for their very livelihoods.
But he also owed Ann his support. She’d stepped into the role of CEO and done a hell of a job. She was smart and capable and had never given him any reason to doubt her motives or her loyalties to the house.
He wasn’t convinced that she was telling the complete truth, though. Like it or not, George had a point. That reporter had picked up on some tidbit of gossip as the basis for the story. But even if there was something between Ann and Dalton, Vance still didn’t believe she would sell out Waverly’s.
He’d like to have all the information before he took a stand one way or the other, but that wasn’t going to happen. What it came down to for Vance was this: Did he trust his gut instincts or not? Bottom line? He always went with his instincts. So he took a chance.
“I believe you,” he said loudly enough that no one could miss it.
He saw her shoulders relax just a bit in silent relief and he knew he’d done the right thing to support her publicly. But he wasn’t finished.
“That said,” Vance continued, looking directly into Ann’s blue eyes, “if this reporter continues to throw mud at Waverly’s, we’ll all need to be prepared.”
His silent message to her was, If I’m wrong about you, you had better have a good backup plan—because if it means saving Waverly’s, you’re gone.
She gave him a small, tight nod and Vance was pretty sure she understood.
“You’re right,” Ann said aloud. Shifting her gaze back to the rest of the board, she continued by saying, “Dalton Rothschild is not to be trusted. If he thinks there’s a chink in our armor, he will make a move.”
“Such as?” Edwina asked.
Ann gritted her teeth. “A hostile takeover wouldn’t be out of the question.”
Vance listened to the outraged shouts and furious whispers that rolled through the room and wondered why none of them had considered that possibility before. He certainly had. The implications of what this might mean were staggering. Rothschild knew that if he tried to simply buy out Waverly’s he would hit a stone wall. But if he thought to take it over by means of destroying the auction house first, then scooping up what was left, that was something else.
Ruin the house’s reputation, and then buy them out when the business was trashed.
Not a bad plan, Vance thought with icy calm. But one that would fail. He’d see to it himself. Gaze fixed on Ann, he watched as she waited for the tumult around the table to die down. When it didn’t happen fast enough, she rapped her knuckles against the cherrywood table as if she were a teacher trying to restrain a room full of kids. But it worked. When it was quiet, she spoke up again, cool and collected.
“I need you all to be on guard at all times. Keep an eye on our employees. If Dalton means business, he could be wooing an insider into spilling our secrets. We can’t take anything for granted right now. Waverly’s needs us—all of us—to be on our toes.”
Vance scowled at the thought. He didn’t like the idea that there might be a spy among them at Waverly’s. He’d known most of the people he worked with for years. A lot of them had watched him grow up. Looking at them now with suspicious eyes went against the grain. Besides, he couldn’t help asking himself why someone would betray Waverly’s. The house had always been a good place to work. The company took care of the employees. Hell, there was even a day-care center on the fourth floor so that mothers didn’t have to worry about their children while they were at work.
Children.
An image popped into his mind. The framed photo on Charlie’s desk. That of a small boy, grinning up at the camera, displaying two impossibly tiny teeth. Unease washed through him as the board meeting went on around him.
For a brief moment, he wondered if he should be suspicious of Charlie.
Ordinarily, he wouldn’t even have to listen to the voices rising and falling in the room to know what they were saying. The only two female board members, Veronica Jameson and Edwina Burrows—grande dames of society, each well into her seventies—were extremely protective of Ann. Maybe it was the whole “woman power” thing, but those two were always Ann’s most vociferous supporters.
“I’m sure you’ll know best how to handle this, Ann,” Veronica said, her thin voice chirping like a hungry bird’s.
“Thank you. I appreciate that.”
“I’m sure you do,” Simon West carped in apparent frustration.
“I realize what a difficult situation this is,” Ann said, her voice briefly carrying over the rest. “But if we band together, I’m sure we’ll—”
“Band together? Against what? Some ephemeral danger? Or against you?” Simon, a shrunken, wizened man of about a hundred, slammed the tip of his cane against the tabletop to get everyone’s attention. Even Vance let go of his thoughts long enough to stare at the older man.
Simon had been at Waverly’s for as long as anyone could remember. There were some who insisted he was there at the dedication of the building 150 years ago. Vance smiled to himself at the thought.
Simon was furious and looked as if he were about to have a stroke. His eyes bugged out, his cheeks were splotches of red and spittle gathered at the corners of his mouth as he shouted, “Nothing like this happened before we allowed a woman to be in charge!”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Vance muttered. Sometimes the old guard was so old they forgot they were living in a shiny new world where women didn’t stay at home unless that’s where they wanted to be.
“That’s not helpful, Simon,” Ann muttered, and Vance had to give her points for patience. If it was him, he’d have grabbed the cane away and tossed it into the corner.
Then he rolled his eyes as Veronica and Edwina charged into the fray in defense of their CEO.
He glanced across the table at the empty chair. Vance’s uncle, Rutherford Waverly, should be sitting there. As the most senior member of the board, he should have been at every meeting. And right now, Vance would have liked to get his uncle’s take on all of this. But Rutherford had hated Waverly’s and everything about it ever since he and Vance’s father, Edward, had had a falling-out decades ago. Vance himself had hardly spoken to the other man in years.
But right now, he could have used a cooler head. An unbiased opinion.
“Whether or not we like what’s happening,” Ann declared, effectively silencing the last of the grumblers around the table by keeping her voice low and calm, forcing them to quiet down long enough to hear her. “The situation is here and we have to deal with it. If Dalton Rothschild is preparing for a takeover, all of us have to watching for any signs of treachery or betrayal. As much as I hate to say it, one of our people may be spying for the enemy.”
Once again, the image of his new assistant popped into his mind. What did he really know about her?
The fourth floor was part of Waverly’s and yet, so wildly different from the rest of the venerable auction house it could have been on another planet. Every other floor in the building was sedate, lovely, elegant.
Here, though, it was all primary colors and the scent of crayons and cookies and milk. The rest of the building was usually couched in what felt like a cathedral-like hush. But here, there was laughter, giggles that bubbled up to the high ceilings and fell back down like a rain of daisies.
Every time Charlie stepped onto this floor, she felt a wave of gratitude to Waverly’s for taking such good care of its employees. If she had to pay for day care on her own, she wouldn’t have been able to save enough money to move into the two-bedroom apartment where she and Jake now lived. Not to mention the fact that she would have spent every minute of every workday worried about her son’s safety and happiness. Was he being fed or played with or hugged when he fell down?
At Waverly’s she didn’t have to worry about any of that. This space was completely childproof and safe. The women hired to work here had been vetted by HR and licensed by the State of New York in child care and early childhood development. Each child here was cared for and looked after and the nominal fee she paid every month was more than worth it.
She walked past the room that was set up with tables and chairs and two computer stations where older kids would come in after school and do their homework while they waited for the workday to end. She peeked into the nap room, furnished with a half-dozen cribs and two comfy rocking chairs, then slipped past quietly to stand in the doorway of the toddler play area.
Here again, there were bright colors on the walls and murals of fairy gardens and rainbows to enchant the kids. There were baby walkers for the infants, stuffed animals and games for the toddlers. There were shelves filled with books for the older kids and dozens of play rugs and pillows covering the wood floor.
An excited squeal greeted her, and Charlie reacted instantly. With a rush of love swamping her, she hurried across the floor to pick up her son and cuddle him close. He smelled like shampoo and bananas. She smiled when his little arms came around her neck and he dug his face into the curve of her neck. “Mamamamamama …”
It thrilled her to hear the babble of sound that defined the essence of who she was now. The old Charlie had faded away the moment she’d learned she was pregnant. The woman who had had vague, hazy dreams of success and flashy cars and beautiful homes had become a mother. Her dreams now were filled with plans for her son. With ways to ensure his happiness. With hopes for the future she could provide for him.
As she held that warm little body close to her, she told herself that Jake would never wonder if he was wanted. Would never be afraid.
Pushing all else but her baby aside, she looked into the dark blue eyes he had inherited from the father he’d never known. “Are you being a good boy?”
Jake grinned and her heart melted.
“He’s a terrific boy and you know it,” Linda Morrow said, coming up behind her. “Sweetest baby ever.”
“I think so,” Charlie agreed and gave Jake a quick kiss before setting him down on the rug again. When he screwed up his face to cry, she handed him a ball and he laughed in response. Nothing upset Jake for long.
“I was downstairs checking out the salesroom for Saturday’s auction and couldn’t resist stopping by to see him.”
“Oh, I get it,” Linda said, her gaze constantly shifting to take in the ten or so children scattered around the room and the other two women in charge of them. “That’s the beauty of working at a place like this. Being able to see your child during the day, reassure yourself …”
“Am I that obvious?”
“All good moms are,” Linda told her with a wink. “You know your baby’s safe here, but your heart insists on seeing for yourself once in a while.”
“Wish it was more often,” she said wistfully as she watched Jake crawl in a mad rush toward a giant, purple, plush teddy bear. In a perfect world, she’d be a stay-at-home mom with a dozen kids. She’d always wanted a big family. But since she had to work, she was grateful that she’d found a job doing something that she loved. Being part of something as fast-paced and exciting as the world of high-end auctions was a dream come true. Except for the not having enough time for her son thing.
“Jake took a step this morning all on his own.”
“He did?” Charlie’s heart gave a sharp, painful twist. She hadn’t been there to see that first step. She’d missed it and that memory was now Linda’s. The sting of that knowledge cut deep, but she quickly reassured herself that stolen moments didn’t make up a lifetime and that she would have years of memories of Jake’s “firsts” to take out and relive again when she was a doddering old woman.
“It was only the one step,” Linda was saying, “then he got this incredibly surprised look on his face and dropped like a stone.” She smiled. “But he’s getting it, and pretty soon he’ll be running everywhere.”
“He will, won’t he? God, it’s all going by so fast.”
Charlie watched her son go up on his knees, lift his arms, then fall forward onto the stuffed teddy bear with a wild giggle. His first step, then running. Then he’d be in school and then graduating and then college and marriage and a family and—Charlie laughed at her own thoughts. He was barely thirteen months old and she had him practically retired.
