CHAPTER NINE
Eva rang Loretta Hammond’s doorbell at precisely ten-thirty, although she had arrived at the town house almost fifteen minutes before. Rather than break social custom and show up early, she walked around the corner to a Starbucks and bought a cup of coffee. While she sat in a comfortable armchair, she ran through her prepared speech one more time. She was ready. She knew she was, but she couldn’t help being nervous. The Hammond collection was still the biggest thing that had ever happened to her career, and with her promotion, she felt a need to prove herself.
After a moment, the door opened and a tall, thin woman in a brown tweed suit greeted her. “You must be Ms. Butler. Please come in. I’m Loretta’s assistant, Cassandra Douglass. Loretta is still on the phone with London,” she said, closing the door and indicating with a wave of her long, bony hand that Eva should follow her down the hall. The house was large and bright and decorated with fine antiques. Cassandra led her to the front parlor and told her to take a seat. Eva hesitated for a moment. She had been in the appraising business long enough to feel reluctant to sit on an authentic Louis XIV chair.
“There is tea on the sideboard and scones, crumpets and Danish with all the customary accoutrements. Please make yourself at home,” Cassandra said. “Loretta will be in in a moment. She was just finishing up when she asked me to get the door. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some business I must attend to. Feel free to ring the bell if there’s anything you need.”
Eva’s gaze traveled to the ribbon that hung in the far corner of the room. She had seen similar rigged contraptions before but in 1930 screwball comedies, not real life, and something about it made her oddly uncomfortable. Even if she were having a heart attack, she doubted very much that she would ever pull such a thing. “Thank you. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
Cassandra smiled. “Very good.”
Alone in the room, Eva examined the breakfast spread, which was impressive. The customary accoutrements included an assortment of jams, butter, margarine and clotted cream. Eva’s mouth watered at the thought of clotted cream melting on a warm raisin scone, but she settled for a cup of Earl Grey. There was no way she was going to get crumbs on the chair. She sipped her tea as she examined the various antiques in the room. Loretta had many impressive museum-quality pieces, and Eva marveled at how integrated they seemed here in the Hammond home.
She was standing in front of a John Singer Sargent painting when her hostess joined her. “That’s my grandfather Cornelius, a rather austere man who didn’t know how to smile,” Loretta Hammond said as she came into the room. “He terrorized my mother for years before she finally agreed to marry my father. I believe she was sent to her room with only the proverbial bread and water. Of course, Sargent just caught a hint of the tyrant, I’m afraid—you can only see it in the slope of his nose—but that’s all right. All good paintings lie about their subjects.”
Eva shifted her eyes downward, from Cornelius’s eyes to his long patrician nose. Loretta was right. There was certainly something despotic about the feature. “It’s a wonderful painting.”
“Thank you, my dear,” said Loretta, “and thank you for waiting so patiently. One can never get off the phone with one’s bankers. They tend to run on. Here, please have a seat.” She gestured to the Louis XIV chair and Eva sat down, relieved that she had finished her tea and could do no harm to the very old fabric.
“Thank you for seeing me on such short notice,” Eva said, wondering what she should do with her empty teacup. Somehow it seemed wrong to put it down on the William and Mary table, with its lovely marquetry design. She rested it on her lap. “I realize you’re a very busy woman.”
Loretta waved her concerns aside. “Not so busy that I can’t make sure that my husband’s collection is disposed of properly. And talking to you is part of that process.” She walked over to the side table and poured tea. “My son was very impressed with your presentation. He is not, I assure you, a man who is easily impressed.”
Eva felt a tingle of happiness at these words, though she knew it was unprofessional. She was here as a representative of the Wyndham organization, not a lovesick girl. “Oh?” she said, trying not to sound too interested. But she was. Very interested. It had been three days since her dinner with Cole and she’d yet to hear from him.
“Yes, it was he who urged me to take this meeting. To be perfectly candid, I have some doubts about Wyndham’s ability to handle such a large collection, given its history with smaller sales. However, Cole assures me that your proposal is worthy of consideration.”
“I appreciate his confidence,” Eva said. “He’s been very helpful, despite his personal opinion on the matter.”
Loretta raised a painted eyebrow as she spooned sugar into her tea. “Ah, so he told you about that?”
Momentarily disconcerted by the gleam of interest in the woman’s eye, Eva stuttered, “Uh, yes, he felt it was rather important that I understand that the decision was not his.”
“Did he?” She turned away and placed a buttered crumpet on her plate. “Well, I would have liked to have been a party to that conversation.”
Loretta Hammond spoke softly, and Eva was almost certain she had heard her wrongly. “Excuse me?” she asked, unnerved at the sort of conclusions his mother was obviously jumping to. Eva remembered the context of the discussion and blushed.
“I said, would you like more tea?” She flashed a brilliant smile and reached for Eva’s empty cup.
Eva had no choice but to give it to her, and she watched helplessly as Loretta filled it to the rim with steaming Earl Grey. When it was returned to her, she balanced the saucer carefully in her hands before taking a large sip of the very hot brew, burning her tongue in the process. At least now it was not tottering on the edge of spilling.
“Tell me,” said Mrs. Hammond, “did you enjoy the party?”
“Yes, I had a wonderful time, thank you. I’ve never been to such a glamorous affair before, and I understand you raised three million dollars. You must be very pleased.”
The society matron nodded. “This year’s auction exceeded our expectations. We almost doubled our intake from last year.”
“Speaking of auctions,” Eva said, “perhaps I should make my presentation now and let you get on with your day. I don’t want to monopolize your time.”
“All right, my dear.” She sat on the settee adjacent to Eva and sipped her tea. “I’m ready when you are.”
Eva smiled at her and awkwardly held her cup of tea for another moment before conceding she had no choice except to put it down on the inlaid table. She knew she was being silly. Hers was not the first teacup to rest on it in its three-hundred-year-old existence.
But still.
She placed it on the table very carefully.
“I’ve taken the liberty of professionally printing a mock-up of the catalog for the sale,” she said, digging into her briefcase, “rather than just running one off on the office printer. I’ve also charted the profits of the auction depending on the percentage of commission that the auction house takes. This is usually the single biggest factor that enters into a seller’s decision of which auction house to use, but I urge you to consider other factors as well, including where the show is toured and the breadth of collectors who show up for the auction.”
Eva ran through her prepared speech with few interruptions from Loretta. She tried to read her expressions to get some hint of how the presentation was going, but Loretta Hammond gave nothing away. Her face remained a mask of good humor and polite interest. This threw Eva off her game but only a little bit. She knew her presentation was strong. She had taken the initial elements she had discussed with Cole and strengthened them. His questions had been insightful and extremely useful and were in a large part responsible for her presentation today, which had, in her estimation, very few holes in it. Perhaps, she thought optimistically, that was why Mrs. Hammond hadn’t said much. She hoped it was that rather than what she feared: that she had only take
n this meeting to assuage her son. Eva didn’t like the idea of being a favor.
“Well,” said Mrs. Hammond when Eva was done, “you are a very thorough young lady, aren’t you?”
Eva nodded slowly, suddenly fearful that her entire presentation had been long and boring. Perhaps that was the real reason Loretta had been silent—she’d been trying not to fall asleep. To distract herself, she reached for her tea, which was cold by now.
“I like thoroughness,” she continued. “It’s a good quality. My son is very thorough. It makes for smart business, don’t you think?”
Eva didn’t like the turn the conversation was taking. It was one thing for Cole’s name to come up but quite another for his qualities to be discussed. Nevertheless, she was about to agree with this comment when the parlor door opened and Cole himself stepped in.
His mother smiled, delighted by his appearance. “Speaking of thoroughness….” she murmured, standing up to greet her son. “Cole, this is a lovely surprise.”
Cole kissed his mother on the cheek. “I had a moment free and thought you might like some company for lunch.”
“I’m sure you did,” she said, noticing the way his eyes slid over Eva. “You do recall Ms. Butler, don’t you? You introduced me to her Saturday night and, if my memory serves, had a dance with her. No doubt you forgot today was the day I was meeting with her.”
“Of course I remember Ms. Butler.” He walked over to where she was sitting on the couch and kissed her hand. His eyes were twinkling with mischief. “How are you?”
“Fine, thank you,” she said, trying hard not to be flustered by the look in his sapphire eyes. It was obvious from his gaze that he’d come explicitly to see her. She was happy he wanted to be with her, of course, but this wasn’t the place.
“It’s so lovely to see you again,” he said, holding her hand a bit longer than necessary. “Perhaps if you haven’t any plans, you would join us for lunch?”
Although Eva would have liked nothing better than to have lunch with Cole, she didn’t want to do it under the watchful gaze of his mother. She was obviously an astute woman who noticed everything. “I should really be getting back to the office. I’ve taken up far too much of your mother’s time already.”
“Don’t be silly, dear. You’ve been delightful company,” Mrs. Hammond insisted before her guest could protest further. “I’ll just pop into the kitchen and tell Tilly we’ll be four for lunch. Do join us when you’re ready.” She put down the teacup and disappeared from the room, leaving Eva alone with Cole.
As soon as the door shut, he sat down beside Eva and took her into his arms. She was returning his enthusiastic kiss before she even knew what was happening.
“I’ve missed you,” he said softly against her lips.
Eva struggled for clear-headed thought but the sensations he was creating were powerful. “It’s only been three days.”
He pulled her silk blouse free of the constricting skirt and ran a hand over her back. “Three long days.”
Although she knew she should pull away, she sunk deeper into his embrace. “Actually it’s really just been two days,” she said between heated kisses, “since it’s only Wednesday morning.”
“But it feels like three days,” he said, his hands skimming the warm surface of her stomach and traveling higher. “Which proves my point.”
It was the touch of his hand on her breast that brought her to her senses. Eva pulled away and ran to the opposite side of the room, where she tried to tuck her blouse back in. “Oh, God, what am I doing?”
Cole was gazing at her with heavy, desire-filled eyes. “Fulfilling a fantasy of mine. You looked like a schoolmarm with your hair in a bun and that high-collared blouse.”
Eva tried to straighten her clothes quickly, but it was difficult with her fingers shaking. He shouldn’t be able to do this to her, not while she was at work, not while she was in his mother’s front parlor. God, she couldn’t want him that much, could she?
The sight of her fighting the hem of her blouse dampened his lust and he got up to help her fix her appearance. Eva considered him suspiciously. “What are you doing?” she asked, taking a step backward.
“Trying to help.”
He said it simply, with an air of innocence, but Eva didn’t trust him. “No, stay where you are. Don’t come any closer.”
Cole smiled but complied with her request. From across the room, he watched as she re-formed the bun and smoothed her hair. She looked as chaste and pristine as when he walked into the room a few minutes before. He fought the urge to undo all her good work. “How’d the presentation go?” he asked, choosing a harmless topic as a distraction.
Examining her appearance in the mirror over the mantel, she paused and looked at his image. “What?”
“How’d your presentation for the Hammond collection go?” he repeated. “Was my mother suitably impressed?”
At the moment, that was the furthest thing from her mind. How did her presentation go? She wasn’t quite sure. She thought it went well. “Good, thank you,” she said, striving to seem calm and composed. She was a professional, damn it!
Cole recognized the frosty tone. It was the same one with which she’d told Mrs. Hemingway to note down her meeting in black ink. He smiled and apologized for his behavior. It hadn’t been his intention to assault her the moment they were alone. He’d planned to ask about her meeting first, then give her a polite hello kiss. He didn’t realize things would get out of control so quickly.
Eva eyed his reflection with narrowed eyes. She appreciated his apology, but he hardly seemed contrite. There was an intolerable air of triumph about him. It’s because he knows he can reduce me to jelly whenever he wants, even here in his mother’s front parlor.
“I have missed you, you know,” he said conversationally. Eva was done fixing her appearance but she seemed reluctant to turn around and face him. “I picked up the phone to call you a dozen times yesterday but I kept getting interrupted with work. Are you free tomorrow night? I can’t go out tonight; I have a dinner-work thing planned. I really want to suggest we meet afterward for a nightcap, but that’s a little too shabby. We’ll have a proper date and then you can invite me in for a drink.”
Eva felt herself blush. It was the confidence that did it, the way he knew for a fact that she would invite him in for a drink. To cover her embarrassment, she took out her phone and pulled up her calendar. She made a show of considering her engagements, but the answer was obvious: Yes, she was free. She nodded slowly.
“Excellent,” he said, standing up and walking across the room. “We’ll go to dinner and then perhaps to a club for dancing. I want to hold you in my arms again like I did Saturday night.”
Memories of their dance at the party made her flush again, and Cole, charmed by it, reached for her. But Eva was quicker and more agile; she evaded his grasp. “Your mother could walk in at any moment,” she hissed, horrified at the thought.
Cole waved off her concern. “Don’t be silly. My mother knows me well enough to knock first.”
This was hardly the sort of information that comforted Eva. “Just keep your distance and nobody will get hurt.”
He laughed and opened the parlor door. “Very well. If you’re not going to be any fun, we might as well go into lunch.” He gestured for her to precede him, but she didn’t budge. She was still wary. “I’ll be the perfect gentleman, I promise. I’ll talk about the weather and ask after Cassandra’s health and I won’t make a single double entendre. Nobody will have the least idea that I’m imagining you naked on my mother’s Aubusson rug.”
“Cole!” she said, her voice a strangled cry.
“All right, I won’t ask after Cassandra’s health. I didn’t realize your jealousy was so easily aroused.”
Eva opened her mouth to protest but decided silence was the better tactic. Cole was incorrigible, and as long as she showed a reaction, he’d continue to tease her. With her head high and her back straight, she walked past him and out
of the room. With a pleased smile, Cole followed.
***
When Eva got back to the office, she ducked her head into Ben’s office to give him a full account of that morning’s proceedings. Well, not quite a full account but she did run through all the salient points and tried to pinpoint Mrs. Hammond’s reaction.
“Obviously, it’s impossible to know exactly how things stand, but it’s my belief that Wyndham’s is a genuine contender and has a very good chance of getting the sale,” she said.
Ben grinned and congratulated her on doing an excellent job, the surprise in his tone betraying once again his lack of confidence in her. Eva told herself she didn’t care. Elliot and Ethan believed in her, and it was their opinions that mattered.
An hour alter, Eva’s phone rang, and looking at the extension, she saw it was Ethan’s office. She’d been expecting to hear from him since the moment she’d hung up with his father, and she picked up the phone with a mix of pleasure and agitation.
“Good afternoon, Eva,” he said in his clipped, rushed upper-crust British voice. Eva had never had a conversation with the owners’ son personally before, but she had been at enough staff meetings to become familiar with its cadence. “I want to commend you on the excellent work you’re doing on the Hammond collection.”
Eva’s heart tripped happily at the words. She was being commended. By the boss. Yippee! This was a surprise. She thought for sure she’d be chastised for breaking the sacred commission rule. “Thank you, sir,” she said, wondering if that epithet was perhaps a bit too much. Although it felt appropriate for his father, it seemed oddly out of place now. “Wyndham’s has pulled together a very strong package. Mrs. Hammond hasn’t made up her mind yet, but we have definitely given her something to think about.”
“So I understand,” he said. “I suppose cutting the seller’s rate commission had a lot to do with that.”
Ah, so we are going to talk about that. “It was a necessary step and the only way for us to be taken seriously as a contender.”
Winner Takes All Page 15