All I Want Is You

by Sherrill Bodine

  “That’s why you pay me the big bucks. I like this one.” She tapped her fingertips on a sketch of a man and woman dressed in elegant royal blue velvet robes. They were dancing in front of an evergreen tree lit with thousands of tiny lights, surrounded by piles of colorfully wrapped gifts, toys, and a long table laden with a ham, turkey, trays of pastries, bowls of nuts, and bottles of their most expensive champagnes and wines from the food halls.

  “In this one I’m showcasing all the most sought-after toys of the season, the lingerie department, and the food hall. The most important aspect is presenting the joy of taking a few moments out of the busy season to steal a dance with your lover.”

  “I’m escorting Venus to the Dress for Success benefit next Saturday night.” Shocked at his own stupidity, he shook his head. “Why in the hell did I bring that up now?”

  “It’s obviously on your mind.” Her serene gaze urged him on.

  “Yeah, it is. Do you know the name of her no-show date?”

  “Brad Evans.”

  His name conjured up the long-ago brawl and all the anger he’d felt in that locker room. Now an odd unease settled over him. “Have they been seeing each other all these years?”

  “Absolutely not. About five years ago they reconnected. On and off. Thank goodness mostly off for the last year or so.”

  The frosty glint in her eyes made him smile. “I take it you don’t care for him. You know I once broke his nose. Back in college.”

  “I’m sure he deserved it.”

  If you only knew it was all about Venus.

  All at once Diana sucked in a deep breath and quickly gathered the sketches back into her portfolio.

  “You know, Connor, in fairness to Venus I shouldn’t be discussing her love life. Not that she’s in love with Brad,” Diana added quickly, smiling. “Whatever happened last night I’m grateful it put you in such a good mood that you forgive me. And I know Venus will be grateful, too.”

  The truth hit him like a body blow. Grateful is not what I want Venus to feel for me. I want much much more.

  Pandora’s Box teemed with customers, which on any other day would have had Venus tingling with excitement and gratitude.

  Today she had a devil of a time keeping her focus off Connor and on helping customers choose the perfect evening gown and the jewelry and accessories to go with it.

  The fifth time she made what she considered mediocre to downright bad choices with trusting clients, she sent a frantic text to Diana.

  I’m losing it. Help if your flex schedule permits. Please tell me you still have a job.

  The instant she sent it she knew deep inside she was being silly, because Connor would never go back on his word. She shivered, wrapping her arms around her shoulders as if to protect herself, momentarily pushing the past to the side so she could reach her goal with Connor.

  Because there are now two reputations to save and other aspects of my plan have taken alarming, shocking turns.

  Rationalizing this mess didn’t make it any less scary. Determined to focus on anything else, she reorganized the jewelry table twice between helping customers.

  An hour later, the sight of Diana entering the store with a serene smile and a thumbs-up confirmed Venus’s fledgling trust in Connor and there he was right back in her head, which deeply disturbed her on several levels of her emotional well-being.

  What if I’m wrong? What if he’s trying to charm me again for some reason?

  Ignoring her twinges of self-doubt as best as she could, she helped a customer choose between a 1940s Walborg beaded bag hand-made in Belgium and a 1950s Lucite bag by Willardy, while Diana showed two women a whimsical hat by local milliner John Koch and a larger, more flamboyant creation by young designer Loreta Corsetti.

  Several minutes later, the problem solved by the customer deciding to take both bags, the two ladies leaving with the perfect hats for them, and Diana watching the store, Venus slipped behind the brown velvet swag curtain to return phone calls.

  Exhausted, she threw herself into her desk chair and glanced at the memo sheet. Maxie’s name jumped out at her. Curious, she dialed the number.

  “Hello, Maxine Robinson.”

  Maxie’s abnormally morose voice sent a hot wave of worry to the pit of Venus’s stomach. “Hi, it’s Venus Smith. Are you all right?”

  “Thank you for returning my call.” Maxie’s voice changed to a breathless almost whisper. “I have a matter of grave importance to discuss. I know you find many of your treasures through estate sales and on consignment. I would like to discuss such a possibility with you.”

  Hearing the door open, Venus glanced around the curtain to see three women entering the store. “We’re swarmed with customers right now. Could you stop by around six when we close?”

  “Yes. I’d prefer to conduct our business in utmost privacy.”

  “Of course.” Venus kept her tone deliberately light, sensing Maxie’s embarrassment. “I’ll look forward to seeing you around six.”

  In the back corner, the grandfather clock she’d inherited from her mother struck five-forty-five when the last customer walked out the door. Venus’s stretched nerves felt every bong of the chime.

  Relieved to finally have a few minutes alone with Diana, even if she couldn’t reveal all, Venus found her sister redesigning the display of hats and gloves.

  “Thanks for coming in. Everything all right at Clayworth’s? Did Connor say anything about last night?” she asked, as nonchalantly as possible, considering she’d been thinking about him all day.

  Diana’s smile told Venus she hadn’t fooled her sister despite her best effort.

  “Obviously neither one of you is talking about last night, which means something profound must have happened.”

  Deliberately avoiding Diana’s keen gaze, Venus fussed with the feathers on a Loreta Corsetti hat. “Well, what did he say to you?”

  “He told me he’s your escort next Saturday night and asked the name of your no-show date.”

  Surprised, but oddly pleased, Venus looked up. “Did you tell him Brad? You know, years ago Connor broke his nose in a brawl in the locker room at NU.”

  Strangely, now Diana looked away, wandering over to the triple-mirrored dressing table.

  “Yes, I know. Obviously Connor knew years ago that Brad is a jerk. Just like I do now. In the past Brad may have had spurts of deserving you but they were long ago, even if you won’t admit it.”

  “Oh, my God, please tell me you didn’t discuss my love life with Connor.” Feeling slightly ill at the very thought, Venus followed her sister’s ceaseless wandering around the store.

  “No, I did not discuss your love life, beyond the fact that you haven’t seen Brad often in the last year.” At last Diana stopped to look her in the eyes. “Venus, please don’t underestimate Connor. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  “Of course I do. I promise you.” Venus sounded more confident than she felt, considering her shocking change of plans and feelings. “I’d tell you everything, but it would be divulging someone else’s private business.”

  She glanced at her watch. “Speaking of which, a client who asked for a private meeting is coming in at six.”

  “It’s almost six now.” Diana looked at the grandfather clock as she glided past it toward the basement door. “I saw the shipment arrived from R&Y Agousti. I’ve been dying to unpack the python and water snake clutches and minaudières we ordered. They’re incredible works of art. I’ll be in the basement drooling over them. Call me when the client leaves.”

  At the stroke of six Maxie walked in carrying two blue shopping bags with the Clayworth clock logo and name printed on both sides.

  She glanced around furtively. “Are we alone?”

  Venus locked the door. “Diana’s in the basement unpacking a shipment of handmade purses from Paris.”

  “Your dear sister is like an angel. Like you, she can be trusted.” Maxie sighed as she laid three silk jewelry bags on the counter.
r />   Slowly, she carefully opened the first one.

  It contained a 1960s Hobe Bib necklace, bracelet, pin, and earrings parure in gilt metal with strings of faceted faux topaz and red aurora borealis beads with overlaid spherical blue and pink Venetian glass beads.

  “Beautiful,” Venus breathed, arranging the pieces carefully on a felt-lined tray.

  The second bag revealed a Miriam Haskell floral necklace and earrings. “This is a costume jewelry classic,” Venus gushed, placing the pieces on the second tray.

  The last jewelry bag held a Kenneth Jay Lane multiple pendant “catwalk” necklace of silver-gilt base metal set with clear rhinestones.

  Venus couldn’t miss the sadness in Maxie’s eyes as she gazed down at it.

  She’d seen this look before in other clients when they were parting with objects they loved. Always she felt the aching need to make them feel better.

  “I can see you’ve taken excellent care of these pieces. They’re all in pristine condition.”

  “I try.” Maxie dabbed at her eyes with a white linen handkerchief monogrammed in pink stitching. “My dear Edward has been most generous. Now I must rise to the occasion and help him in his hour of need. There are more treasures at home. Would it be possible to make an appointment for you to come to purge my closet?”

  Seeing Maxie’s distress, Venus quickly glanced through her date book. “I have time in about three weeks. I can call you with an exact date.”

  “Please do so at your earliest convenience. It’s of the utmost importance.” Maxie leaned across the counter. “Meanwhile, please tell no one about my efforts to help my dear Edward since his investments went south.” She rolled her eyes. “If only he had taken the sage advice in Kate Carmichael’s column as I did, he would not be in this predicament.”

  “I understand.” Venus patted Maxie’s soft hand. “It will be our secret.”

  Unable to contain her burning curiosity another second, Venus peered down into the huge shopping bags. “What else do you have in there?”

  “Paintings. I very much hope you can tell me where to sell them.” Maxie reached into the smaller bag and pulled out a copy of Leonardo da Vinci’s Mona Lisa.

  Venus’s first glance at the stunning oil made her body tingle in disbelief. Then disbelief morphed into a burning shock along every nerve.

  She knelt in front of the painting. “I know the original is in the Louvre but this is an incredible copy. I mean really amazing. The use of light. Everything. Oh, my God, Maxie this painting is unbelievable!”

  Maxie puffed out her impressive chest. “I’m flattered you find it worthy. Where can I sell it?” she asked bluntly.

  Still reeling in admiration, Venus blinked up at her. “My degree is in fine arts with a major in jewelry and textile design, but Diana has a master’s in art history. Would you mind if I asked her to look at this?”

  Maxie nodded. “I’d be honored to have your dear sister’s expertise.”

  Venus rushed to the stairwell. “Diana, would you please come up?” she called down.

  When Diana reached the top step, Venus pulled her close to whisper in her ear. “You won’t believe what Maxie has brought in.”

  They both turned and Venus saw two other masterpieces had been whisked out of the bigger shopping bags.

  Diana glanced at her and then, and as if in a trance, she moved to the Mona Lisa, Rembrandt’s Young Girl at an Open Half-Door, and Georgia O’Keeffe’s Black Iris propped against the counter.

  Diana slipped to her knees in front of the three paintings, her eyes widening. “Venus, please give me your jewelry loupe.”

  She quickly retrieved it from behind the desk and stood in silence with Maxie watching Diana slowly, carefully examine each painting. She appeared to be paying particular attention to the signatures.

  Venus felt ready to burst with questions when finally Diana looked up. “Where did you get these, Maxie?”

  “I painted them.”

  “What!” Venus gasped, trying to grasp the fact that Maxie possessed such unexpected talent. “You could be an art forger.”

  Maxie clasped her hands to her heaving chest. “That’s illegal.”

  With her angelic smile, Diana stared up at them. “What Venus meant is that these copies are good enough to fool some experts. You have an amazing talent, Maxie.”

  “I’ve always had a photographic memory.” She glanced between them, pleasure a warm glow on her face. “If I see it, I can reproduce it down to the tiniest detail.”

  “Have you ever thought about painting your own vision, instead of copying masterpieces?” Venus asked gently.

  “No. Do you think I could?”

  “Yes.” Diana nodded as she rose gracefully to her feet. “If you leave these canvases with me I’ll look into the best auction house to place them.”

  “You’re ever so kind.” Maxie clapped her hands together. “Perhaps you may have some news when I see you both at the benefit for Dress for Success next Saturday night.” She flashed a small smile between them. “I trust my paintings will also be our little secret.”

  “Of course, what’s one more.” Venus smiled back, thinking of Connor.

  “Wonderful. Now would you please be so kind as to summon me a cab.” Smiling, Maxie touched the Tess necklace at her throat. “I’m meeting dear Edward to celebrate the seventh anniversary of our first date at our favorite restaurant on Taylor Street.”

  At the mention of a restaurant on Taylor Street Venus positively quivered with interest. “We’ll drive you.”

  As if she had picked up her thought, Diana nodded. “Yes. We were planning to go down to Greek Town for dinner. Taylor Street isn’t much farther.”

  Clasping her hands to her chest, Maxie smiled. “How generous of you both. I’d be delighted for the ride.”

  Remembering every word Tony and Bridget had said about the infamous illegal casino, Venus had a hard time driving and trying to listen to Maxie’s exuberant listing of Ed’s many virtues all the way to Taylor Street.

  “There!” Maxie pointed out. “There it is on the northeast corner.”

  Pulse pounding, Venus pulled in front of a low gray-shingled building with a small, discreet sign saying Fine Italian Cuisine and a parking lot roped off by red flags.

  “Thank you.” Maxie slid out of the passenger seat. “I look forward to seeing you both very soon.” In a few steps she disappeared behind heavy-looking dark oak double doors.

  Playing a hunch, Venus jumped out of the car, released the flag-draped rope barricade, climbed back in, and pulled into the black asphalt parking lot.

  “What are you doing?” Diana asked from the backseat.

  Before Venus could answer, a red-vested attendant ran toward them, waving his arms and shouting.

  “Move! You can’t park here!”

  With a hopefully innocent-looking smile, Venus rolled down the window. “I’m sorry. What’s the problem?”

  “You can’t park here,” he shouted again.

  “But isn’t it the parking lot for the restaurant?”

  “Paved it recently. Park on the street,” he said, motioning her away.

  “But I just want to go in to make a reservation. Can’t I park here long enough to do that?” she asked, trying to still the excitement pounding through her and ignoring Diana’s pointed silence.

  Looking harassed, the valet shook his head. “No, not here. You can park in front of the door long enough to make a reservation.”

  Obeying, she backed up. “I’ll only be inside a few minutes,” she muttered to Diana.

  “I hope you know what you’re doing,” her sister replied, in a tone that spoke volumes.

  “So do I.” Venus climbed out of the car to follow Maxie through the dark double doors.

  It took a few blurred seconds of blinking to adjust to the dim lighting in the narrow, low-ceilinged restaurant.

  All dark wood and lined with banquettes of red velvet, the room looked nearly empty except for a few diners
nearly hidden at tall chairs around white-clothed tables in the middle of the room.

  Nowhere did she see Maxie or Ed.

  Thinking Maxie must be in the ladies room and Ed hadn’t arrived, she waited, studying the black-and-white photos on the wall. They were all of Chicago’s inglorious gangster past in the 1920s and 1930s.

  I swear two of these pictures look like they were taken in this room.

  A tuxedoed maître d’ appeared and peered down his long nose at her. “May I help you, Madame?”

  “Yes, I just dropped off a friend, Maxie Robinson.” Again, Venus glanced around the room. “But I don’t see her.”

  “Ms. Robinson has joined a private party. Is there anything else I can do to help you?”

  Not wanting to disturb any special anniversary celebration Ed might have arranged for Maxie, but sensing she was on to a clue, Venus flung her hair over one shoulder.

  “Yes. I would like a reservation for next Monday night.”

  “I’m sorry, Madame. The restaurant is closed on Monday evening.”

  Determined, and not liking his very thinly veiled superior attitude, Venus gave him her haughtiest look. “Then Tuesday will do. And I’d like to make the reservation in the name of Connor O’Flynn.”

  At last she had the full attention of the maître d’.

  “Connor Clayworth O’Flynn?” he asked.

  Flicking him a bored glance, she shrugged. “Really, in Chicago, is there another?”

  All at once oozing helpfulness, the maître d’ grinned. “Madame, what time on Tuesday and how many in your party.”

  “Two at seven.”

  His smile widened. “May I inquire if this is a special occasion?”

  “But of course it is.” She turned on her heel and strolled out the doors, hoping she looked confident.

  Now all she had to do was convince Connor to go along with her plan to check out the hidden casino she knew must be under the forbidden parking lot.

  Chapter 12

  Trying to call Venus for the tenth time, Connor walked slowly up the grand staircase at the Four Seasons hotel. “Where in the hell are you, Venus?” he cursed under his breath.

  He hated to bring his phone to black-tie affairs, but after two days of missed calls and cryptic text messages from Venus he felt a thin edge of desperation cracking his calm exterior.