A rush of true affection for Bridget washed away some of Venus’s guilt. Okay, she might be here for the nefarious purpose of ingratiating herself with Bridget’s adored nephew, despite the fact she considered him Smith family enemy number one, but Venus would help Bridget with this closet.
Smiling, Bridget glanced back at her. “Please hurry, Venus, before I change my mind. If you don’t find anythin’ suitable for your store, maybe there are some items I can donate to that charity you support for needy women goin’ back into the job market.”
Venus gave herself a sharp kick to do her job for the good of others. This didn’t need to be all about her and her plot to get Connor on her side.
“Thanks. Your donation would be much appreciated by Dress for Success. I’m ready if you are.”
Venus stepped into the closet, which looked as large as her first studio apartment had been, and came eye to eye with Connor’s undeniably handsome face framed in a portrait perched on the middle shelf.
“See what I mean? I have hundreds of pictures of Connor.” Bridget sighed behind her. “I should have put this one away years ago. But he looks so darn handsome in it. I can’t bear to part with it even though I think it was taken the day Connor got kicked off the Northwestern swim team for breakin’ Brad Evans’s nose in a fight in the locker room. Remember that?”
Venus nodded, her gaze glued to the picture of Connor climbing out of the pool after winning the Big Ten hundred-yard butterfly championship.
Remember? Like yesterday.
The smell of chlorine. Connor’s thick black hair slicked back. A faint smile curling his full lips. His six-pack abs glistening with beads of water. He’d reminded her of the statue of David she’d studied in Florence during her junior year of college abroad.
She hadn’t liked Connor even in those days, but she’d felt a twinge of Oh, my God, he is so hot before the team surrounded him, slapping him on the back. Including his best friend, Brad Evans, the object of her youthful passion.
The timing of their fistfight on the heels of her and Brad’s getting together had given her the totally illogical idea that she’d had something to do with the fight. When she’d found the courage to ask Brad, he gave one harsh laugh through his bandages and murmured, “Connor’s a jerk who thinks he’s better than everyone else.”
Over the years it had become clear that Connor being a jerk was the one thing Brad was right about, she thought as she resisted the powerful urge to turn the picture to the wall.
“I was there. I went to Northwestern, too, don’t forget. It turned out to be a bad day all around.”
“Then it’s high time we put it away once and for all.”
To Venus’s relief, Bridget swept the offending picture off the shelf and dropped it with a heavy clank into a cardboard box already half filled with items destined to be put into storage.
“One down. What’s next, Venus?”
She waved Bridget deeper into the labyrinthine room filled with rods hung with clothes and shelves neatly stacked with countless velvet and satin boxes in all shapes, sizes, and colors.
Gazing around, Bridget shook her head. “I don’t know where to begin. Start wherever you want, Venus. Tony and Connor will be back soon, wantin’ to give us advice.”
The thought of staring Connor in the eyes and actually implementing her plan made her shiver and her heart thump faster.
She tried to ignore her galloping pulse by slowly moving through the closet, but she couldn’t stop worrying about how horrified her father would be if he knew she planned to somehow convince Connor to reveal the evidence he had against him. Her sisters would be even angrier, since they’d decided to respect their father’s wishes and accept his firing as treasurer of John Clayworth and Company by his lifelong friends and employers, the Clayworth men.
But Venus had never been saintly like her sisters. She wouldn’t rest until she found out the truth. Just as her mother would have done.
Today’s the day I begin.
She sucked in a deep, strengthening breath.
Roses.
She should have known Bridget wouldn’t use a heavy, powdery sachet, or worse, essence of mothballs, which unfortunately permeated the storage closets of other Chicago grandes dames for whom Venus had performed similar services.
She pushed up the sleeves of her cashmere sweater, sans jewelry, to ensure there was nothing to catch on any delicate lace or silk she might come across. She felt naked without her bangles, necklaces, and big earrings. Fashion as armor, her sister Diana called Venus’s baubles. She’d need all the armor she could get when Connor showed up.
“Bridget, let’s start with the items you’ve had for a long time. Stuff you might have forgotten was in here.”
Determined to get this job done, Venus walked to the very back of the closet, dropped to her knees, and pulled out a long, sturdy white dress box. She lifted the lid and gasped at the rich cream satin and delicate lace of one of the most beautiful gowns she’d ever seen.
“It’s my mother’s wedding dress,” Bridget said, a gentle, sweet smile curling her wide mouth.
The look on her face made Venus go all gooey and warm inside. “It’s a perfect dress for a bride,” she sighed, fingering the weighty fabric. “Did you read Rebecca’s latest Talk of the Town column? She’s right. Nearly everyone I know has either just gotten engaged or just gotten married. And who wouldn’t want to walk down the aisle in something as exquisite as this? I mean, look at this lace.” She gently lifted the gown up across her breasts, smoothing it down to its tiny waist. “It’s handmade Alençon, probably more than a hundred years old. See, you can tell. Look at these tiny, tiny little knots, all tied by hand. And the thread is linen…”
“Bellissima, Venus!” Tony Panzarella’s booming voice interrupted her.
Venus started and for a second she couldn’t breathe. She looked up to find the closet door filled by Tony and Connor, staring at her as she clutched the wedding dress to her breasts. Burning with surprise, she met Connor’s eyes and his oddly appealing almost-smile. She gripped the gown even tighter, like a shield. You’re back too soon. I’m not prepared yet.
“What are you two doing back so soon?” Bridget demanded.
Tony gazed adoringly at her. “Il mia cara, Connor and I made a wager about whether Venus could convince you to truly clean your closet, and I insisted on seeing which of us won. I willingly surrender my fifty-dollar bet to you, Connor. You were right about Venus. You said she is stubborn as a mule and it is impossible to change her mind once she’s decided on something. What a woman!”
Tony threw her a kiss and Connor reddened, making his emerald eyes, so like his aunt’s, blaze.
Venus sucked in a sharp, painful breath. “Well, I am known for my persuasiveness. But I prefer to think of it as tenacity, not stubbornness,” she purred the words with such forced sweetness she nearly choked. She’d rather faint from lack of oxygen than let Connor see her confusion. Tony might be charmed by the idea of Venus as strong-willed, but she knew Connor had not meant it as a compliment. It was part of her plan to change his mind about her.
“Hello, Venus.” Connor nodded.
“Hello, Connor.” She nodded back with equal, if not superior good manners.
Hands on her hips, Bridget faced the men. “Both of you out. No, wait. Before you go, Connor, would you please take down those brown boxes from the top shelf?”
The closet seemed to shrink around Venus as Connor stepped toward her, reaching for the high shelf. Trapped, she had no choice but to stay put, the exquisite wedding gown on her lap, and pretend she wasn’t bothered by Connor’s powerful torso looming over her, reminding her again of Michelangelo’s statue of David.
Of course the David statue is gloriously nude.
She pictured the David in a Speedo like the one Connor wore in the photo. Given the size of the tiny Speedo in the picture, it didn’t take much of her fertile imagination for that image to give way to a vision of Connor as magnificently n
ude as the David.
Willing the image to vanish, she blinked, bit her lip, and literally stopped breathing.
The lace wedding dress slithered out of her fingers.
Lip throbbing, chest aching, she sucked in some oxygen while gathering the dress tightly to her breasts. Hoping she appeared utterly nonchalant and not at all flustered, she flicked Connor a bored glance as he hunkered down beside her to place two boxes on the floor. One was a wooden chest with a heart and two doves carved on the lid.
Bridget laughed. “My God, it’s my hope chest. I’d forgotten where I’d stored it.”
Tony took a step closer. “Your hope chest? I thought they were much bigger. This is too intriguing. I cannot leave now. I must see what’s inside.”
“No, you don’t.” Bridget stopped him with her palm on his chest. “Out. You too, Connor.”
Connor straightened, brushing against Venus. She felt a pull on her hair as her tortoiseshell clip caught on the arm of his navy blue cashmere sweater.
Her hair fell heavy and hot around her shoulders.
He hunkered back down, quickly found the clip, and handed it to her.
“Sorry,” he muttered, staring into her eyes.
Perfect time to do something nice. Like say his eyes are honest to goodness as dazzling as priceless emeralds.
Instead she simply nodded. She felt utterly stupid not being able to utter one single friendly comment to the man.
Ridiculously nervous now that the moment to move forward with her plan was at hand, she sat like a lump, fumbling with the clip, trying to pull part of her hair back up. Helpless to stop him, she watched Connor kiss Bridget on the cheek and urge a protesting Tony out the door.
“Are you all right, Venus? You look ready to jump out of your skin.” Bridget shook her head. “I know this isn’t easy for you. I hope someday you can forgive Connor for his takin’ sides against your dad. Understand his choices. Move on like your father wants you to do. Like your sisters have done. Perhaps you could even be friends with Connor. You are all goin’ to be family.”
She’d never in a million years hurt Bridget by being rude and putting her in the middle of this feud with Connor. But she couldn’t bear to lie either, especially because of everything Bridget had done for her and her sisters after their mom passed away.
“Connor and I have always been like that old cliché. Oil and water don’t mix.”
“That makes me sad, Venus. You and Connor are two of my favorite people in the whole world.”
Venus tried to sound cheerful. “Well, who knows? Maybe things between Connor and me will change.”
They’ll have to if I’m going to get any information out of him. But the last thing I want to do is to hurt you, Bridget.
In her heart of hearts, Venus was utterly convinced that learning the truth about Connor’s part in her father’s disgrace would be good for all of them, that it would finally right this terrible wrong and heal the breach between their two families. She gave Bridget a genuine smile. “Now I don’t want you to be sad. Be glad you saved this priceless wedding gown. It stays right here.”
Ready to get back to business before she gave too many of her feelings away, Venus carefully placed the dress back in the box and set the lid firmly in place. She could have sold this exquisite gown in a heartbeat to one of the brides who haunted Pandora’s Box looking for a totally original wedding dress. But the look on Bridget’s face when she’d first gazed down at it told Venus the dress represented memories too precious to be discarded, even if she never opened the box again.
Laughing, Bridget joined her on the carpet, crossing her legs in a classic yoga pose. “I promise I won’t be sentimental about much.”
“What about this?” Venus ran her fingertips across the top of the hope chest. The inscription Love and Marriage was carved over the inlaid heart.
“Hope chests like this were all the rage back in my day. Every girl I knew had one.” Bridget shrugged. “ I guess you don’t get much of a call for them in the store now.” She paused for a moment and ran her fingers over the inscription. “So how do you feel about love and marriage goin’ together, Venus?” Bridget gave her the truth and nothing but the truth look she’d perfected in the years she’d been head of security for John Clayworth and Company. The years when Venus’s mother and father had worked at Clayworth’s. The years when they’d all been like family.
“Is there someone special in your life, Venus? Are you goin’ to be the next Smith sister to be married off?”
Delighted to be finally and completely truthful and to push her guilt about plotting against Connor aside for a little while, Venus laughed. “I’m going to be just like you, Bridget. Gloriously single, thrilled and fulfilled with my career. That’s more than enough for me. I’ll never marry either. I’ll be everyone’s favorite adored and adoring auntie.”
Bridget’s rich, deep laughter was positively infectious. Venus couldn’t stop laughing back, but she tried, forcing a stern tone into her voice. “I’m serious, Bridget. Really.”
“You’re way too young to be thinkin’ such a way. You wait. Some tall, dark, and handsome Mr. Right will come along.”
“Not everyone can be as lucky in love as Rebecca Covington and David Sumner. Two strangers whose eyes met across a crowded room, making every cell in their bodies go numb.” Venus gave a mock shiver of delight. “I love the way Rebecca describes how she felt the instant she first saw David. I’m very sure about the type of guy I want, so I’m betting if my aha there he is at last moment hasn’t happened by now, it never will.”
Bridget gave her another sharp look. “Can’t believe there haven’t been a few Mr. Rights in your life.”
Venus twisted a lock of hair around her ring finger. “Nope.”
“Sure about that?” Bridget teased. “I recall your parents and sisters tellin’ me that when you start twirlin’ your hair you’re either confused or tellin’ a fib.”
“Oh, all right.” She laughed, folding her hands primly in her lap and wishing her habit didn’t always give her away. “Once I thought Brad Evans was Mr. Right. My type. Tall, blond, and handsome. In college we got pretty close. You know the old story. Boy and girl meet. Then boy gets a broken nose. Breaks his promises and his girl’s heart by breaking up with her.” The tiniest bit embarrassed, Venus blinked and smiled. “Eventually we got back together. And have called it off, gone our separate ways, and reunited dozens of times since then.”
A deep furrow appeared between Bridget’s delicately arched brows. “But Brad Evans hasn’t lived in Chicago since he went east to law school. As you gals say, isn’t he geographically undesirable?”
“That’s the beauty of it. We get together when it’s convenient for both of us.” Venus reached for more hair to twirl. “No commitments. No judgment calls. Exactly the kind of modern, fun relationship we both want.”
“In my day they didn’t call such a thing a relationship. Don’t you want more?” Bridget asked, sounding quite a bit like Diana did whenever they discussed Brad.
Venus couldn’t deny that Brad had changed and so had she. But she wasn’t ready to let go of the nice memories they shared yet. Bridget kept watching her, so Venus forced herself to quit playing with her hair. “Nope. I’m thrilled with the status quo. But I do want to see what’s in this hope chest. Can I peek?”
As she lifted the lid she glanced at Bridget. Was that regret in her eyes? Regret for me? Or for herself?
Worried, Venus stopped. “Are you okay, Bridget?”
“I’m thinkin’ I’m a fine one to be lecturin’ you when I’ve been engaged to Tony forever and never married him.”
So many times Venus had wanted to ask why Bridget and Tony had stayed perpetually engaged. What changed their mind about marriage?
The pained look on Bridget’s face told her now was not the time to get an answer. “We don’t need to do this today, Bridget.”
“Yes, we do.” Bridget smiled and all traces of sadness vanished. She seeme
d her usual confident, take-no-prisoners, self. “I’m a lot like you, Venus. Stubborn. Let’s do it.”
The see-through nylon chemise nightgown Venus lifted from the chest told its own tale. The very expensive price tag from Clayworth’s still hung from one delicate strap.
“Good lord, I must have been nineteen when I bought that nightgown.”
Venus laughed. “Bridget, I never knew you were such a sexpot.”
“If memory serves, I fear there’s worse to come.”
Venus held up a black garter belt and glanced at Bridget’s still-slim hips. “Love it! You should wear this.”
“God in heaven, Venus, Tony would have a heart attack.”
Picturing robust Tony with his mane of salt and pepper hair, flat belly, and wolfish grin, Venus shook her head. “I’m betting he’d love it.”
Venus dug deeper into the box until her fingertips hit something hard. “Oh, what’s this?”
She lifted out a black velvet jewelry box. Every nerve in her body quivered with excitement and every instinct screamed vintage jewelry find. Unable to resist, she sprang the lid.
Instantly, tiny pinpoints of light reflected off metal hangers in the closet’s dim recesses. Resting gently against the box’s cushioned interior lay an exquisite mermaid brooch. About the length of Venus’s manicured index finger, the mermaid’s body was made from one large rhinestone. Her hair rippled in a cascade of navette-cut aurora borealis.
“I forgot that brooch was in there.” Over Venus’s shoulder, Bridget’s voice sounded strained, as if she’d been running.
Venus stared at Bridget’s pale face, then back down at the open black velvet box in her hand.
“Bridget, this is a really rare Eisenberg mermaid pin. They only made a few copies. You must remember how the original was commissioned by John Clayworth to be made of real stones and then it was stolen in that famous heist?”
Bridget nodded and a little color returned to her high cheekbones. “It happened before I started workin’ at Clayworth’s. Over the last thirty or so years that heist has become a Chicago legend. Like Al Capone’s vault.”
All I Want Is You Page 2