A Solitary Romance: Book 1 in the Only Love Series

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A Solitary Romance: Book 1 in the Only Love Series Page 2

by Violet Sparks


  "Hallo, Violet. I'm thankful you called so promptly."

  "Hello, Mr. Bronson. What can I do for you?"

  "Oh, do call me Barry. I'm a huge fan of your blog, and the owners of the items in the upcoming exhibit are requiring that our staging be approved before they ship their treasures. It's the first time I've had to deal with this kind of issue. So, I'm really under the gun here. I'd be most grateful if you'd consider meeting with me. I've got the basics established, but I feel certain displays lack pizazz. Without the jewels present, it's hard to mock up their settings. Would you consider discussing it over lunch?"

  She could not believe what was happening. The director of Special Collections and Exhibits wanted her input on staging jewelry from Czarist Russia? She didn't have to think twice.

  "I'd love to. What time and day works for you, Mr. Bronson?"

  "Today would be best. Say around noon? And please, do call me Barry."

  "All right, Barry. I'll see you at twelve."

  The director signed off. Kate tried to pinpoint his sophisticated accent but couldn't. With a name like Barry, she guessed he was an older gentleman. Who would have thought such a blessing would come from her internet musings about jewelry?

  She spent the remainder of the morning organizing her research for the presentation to Mr. Dodd. Finding the receptionist area deserted at 11:30, she took a quick glance around the fifteenth floor. The conference room had its shades drawn, and none of the department heads appeared to be in their offices. All signs pointed to an important meeting. She had her own summit to attend, so she didn't give the gathering any more thought as she hailed a cab.

  Katrina attended numerous exhibits at the Heller over the years, so she knew her way around the public spaces of the museum. She approached the main desk, where she often purchased tickets, and asked to see Mr. Bronson. Again, she almost identified herself as Katrina Crimshaw instead of Violet Sparks. Oh, what a tangled web we weave.

  Escorted upstairs, she waited outside a mahogany door as the receptionist knocked. A female voice authorized admittance, and the auditor was left alone in an anteroom with Bernard's secretary. The pretty twenty-something welcomed Katrina with a smile and invited her to sit in one of the chairs opposite her desk. She recognized Mr. Bronson's assistant as someone who possessed the sophisticated ease of the trust fund babies who populated museums and auction houses.

  "Barry, Violet Sparks is here," the girl spoke into an office phone.

  "Send her right in!"

  Katrina overheard what sounded like a zealous response.

  The pretty young thing stood and opened the director's door, moving to the side so Violet could enter.

  "Hallo, Violet. Thank you for coming on such notice. I do appreciate it."

  She had to make sure her jaw didn't gape open. Standing in front of her with a hand outstretched in greeting, Barry appeared thirty at the outside. Devilishly handsome with a grin to match, the director flashed a smile unlike any Katrina had witnessed before. She took in his suit— custom made in London, no doubt, dark navy with pin striping, double-breasted and tailored to fit the man's slim physique. His wavy amber hair matched his brown eyes, which stood out against a flawless, pale, probably English complexion.

  "Are you all right, Ms. Sparks?" he said, again with that accent.

  She found her tongue.

  "Yes. I'm afraid with a name like Barry, I took you for a much older person. It's uncommon in the States," she explained, then wished she'd kept her musings to herself.

  "Oh. Well, I am from England, although raised on the Continent. Please have a seat," he said as an amused expression played across his face.

  He took her comment in stride. She settled in a plush leather club chair, and the director handed her a menu.

  "I thought we'd order from the museum café and dine here. If you don't mind."

  Katrina could listen to that accent forever and not tire of it.

  "Do you mind, Violet?"

  "Oh, no, not at all."

  She'd gotten caught up in Barry's speech and appearance, and hadn't responded to his suggestion. She hoped he didn’t think her daft.

  After another pause, Bernard said, "Shall I order for you?"

  She gathered her wits at last.

  "Please do, Barry. You see, I'm just a little in awe over all this." She waved her hand signifying the museum in general, then continued, "I have no real training in gemology or jewelry design, although I did take a course once. I feel completely out of my league," Kate confessed. She hoped he wouldn't throw her out of his office, now that he knew she lacked credentials.

  Instead, the man smiled, pushed a button on his phone, and directed his secretary to bring up a number seven and a number ten, along with tea.

  "Iced or hot?" he asked Katrina.

  "Iced, please."

  After completing the order, he gave her what she already referred to in her mind as The Grin.

  "I didn't have any direct training either, Violet. All one needs is a proper break and a quick mind. As I said in my note, I appreciate your aesthetic. Now, take a look at these."

  Barry handed her a folio of glossy color prints.

  "Besides, my grandmother's name was Violet. It's what initially drew me to your blog."

  She thought about confessing her real name on the spot, but chose against it. She didn't see the harm of maintaining her privacy. The photos displayed an incredible collection of tiaras, scepters, jewel boxes, clocks, and other trinkets, including two parures. Katrina gasped.

  "Impressed?" Barry asked.

  Kate released a slow stream of oxygen from her lungs and nodded. She'd forgotten to breathe while examining the pictures.

  "The yellow diamond and pearl set is beyond words," she whispered.

  The jewelry she referred to consisted of stiff platinum crafted to be worn as a necklace or flipped over and used as a crown, a matching bracelet, and ear fobs. Large oval, yellow diamonds formed the centers of flowers, while pearls and triangular white diamonds served as petals. Smaller, oval canary diamonds formed buds. A master craftsman had fashioned leaves with pavé diamonds. A string of large pearls, braced by platinum, held everything together. Another flower made up the clasp. The earrings started with a large bloom, matching those on the necklace. Two inches of leaves, intertwined with buds, trailed beneath the yellow diamond and pearl flower. The same gemstones comprised the bracelet.

  "How do you see it displayed?" Barry asked.

  A picture came to her mind in an instant.

  "The necklace should be situated on a simple velvet stand, preferably white, with a mirror above, so guests can see it as a crown as well as a necklace." Kate held her hand up to reflect the proper angle of the mirror. She continued, "Otherwise, many visitors will not guess its versatility. Also, the display should be surrounded by simple white daisies."

  The director, who had smiled at her mirror idea, now raised an eyebrow.

  "Hear me out. The pieces are so ornate, so unthinkable in today's world. They should be surrounded by the most uncomplicated, unfussy flowers. A daisy has a yellow center, just like the blossoms on the parure, and is almost childlike in its beauty. Yes, artfully arranged masses of daisies should encircle these jewels! In addition, I'd like to see the flowers' roots reaching into soil at the bottom of the case, signifying the birthplace of the stones—the earth."

  Katrina forgot her lack of credentials and sold her ideas with the conviction of an expert.

  "What about the other set?" Bernard asked, pointing to another photo.

  She ran the tips of her fingers over the picture. She couldn't help herself. A dramatic devant de corsage made of varying sizes and colors of diamonds sat next to similar fobs.

  "Golconda?" she asked.

  "You've a true eye, Violet. How did you know?"

  "The size and color of the diamonds, and of course, the cuts, suggest the correct period. I've never seen anything like it." The piece mesmerized her.

  "It's been in priv
ate hands for ninety years. This is a real coup for the Heller."

  The Golconda mine in India produced some of the world's most unique diamonds until drained of its treasure. While most of the jewels in the enormous pin, meant to be worn across a lady's chest, would be classified as white, they gave off unusual fire. Katrina could detect blue, pink, yellow, pastel green, and even purple light emanating from the gemstones. Again, platinum held together the work of art while allowing it to remain flexible, thus giving the piece movement. The arms of a large X, filled with round and emerald cut diamonds and bordered with countless, small circle cut gems, met at a triangle cut, soft blue stone. Without many facets, the centerpiece resembled a large aquamarine, although lighter in color.

  "That's a rare blue diamond in the middle, thirty-four carats," Barry said.

  Below the center stone, the X shape collapsed into two legs, made to match the upper portion, but closer together and ending in a cascade of diamond leaves surrounding three pear-shaped drops, each stone larger than the one above. Back at the top of the piece, she examined a round knob of diamonds at the end of each arm. They formed a circle of acanthus leaves. Alone, these designs, centered around emerald-cut diamonds, would make fabulous brooches. Yet they represented only a fraction of the devant de corsage. From these hung pieces similar to the bottom branches of the X, yet only half as long. The jeweler wasn't finished. From each side of the piece, a chain of diamonds, connected with stones forming the shape of tulips, reached across the pin. The top swag dipped slightly, but the bottom hung low, forming a large U from side to side. The matching ear bobs appeared simple by comparison.

  The set included a kokoshnik, or arched headpiece, with a similar blue diamond in the middle. The jeweler had cut this stone square and angled its corners, creating a shape similar to that of the Asscher cut. Large white diamonds that emitted a blue fire took prominent positions on each side of the centerpiece, while more gemstones displaying multiple colors of light filled the surface of the crown.

  "Is there foil behind any of these stones?" Kate asked.

  The girl's questions impressed Bronson. She had some knowledge of Russian jewels.

  "In the kokoshnik, yes. These photos don't even do the pieces justice. I flew to the Netherlands to view them in person during our negotiations. Now, Violet, what do you suggest for this display?"

  Katrina closed her eyes but continued to caress the photo. Barry smiled in amusement at the girl's unabashed reaction to the jewels. He appreciated her obvious love of beauty. A knock on the door did not interrupt her concentration, and she kept her eyes closed as Bronson's secretary placed their meals on his desk. He held his finger to his lips to communicate that his assistant was to remain silent and retreat from the room as soon as possible. Several minutes passed, the aroma of their meals filling the office. The director had begun to wonder if the girl were in a trance when she popped open her eyes.

  "These represent a world that will never exist again."

  Barry heard the emotion in Kate's voice.

  She continued, "They must be shown to the public in a way that conveys that. Chips of eternal ice that by no means melt."

  Bernard thought the girl a poet. He'd have fallen out of his chair if he discovered she made her living as a bean counter. He held his breath and waited to hear her idea. She'd already convinced him with her passion that daisies were the way to go with the other set.

  "I think you should display them on ice. Not just any ice, but that from icebergs, with pools of water forming at the base."

  Now, Barry's jaw dropped. It was genius, but how to implement? The owners would have to be convinced as well.

  "You'll need to find someone to fabricate the ice and make it look like it's melting. The case should be cold to the touch, as well, to fool the visitors into thinking the jewels sit on chunks from real icebergs."

  "Can we meet again with our concept artist for drawings?" the director asked.

  "Of course," she replied.

  Barry's eyes sparkled. He folded his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair, satisfied.

  "Let's eat!" the director said with enthusiasm.

  She enjoyed lunch. Barry seemed down to earth, and the two even shared the dishes sent up by the café, since both entreés looked so good. A stroganoff prepared with buffalo meat instead of beef melted in Katrina's mouth while a subtle halibut in white wine sauce satisfied her taste buds. The pair shared freshly baked cookies and coffee after they'd cleaned their plates.

  "Violet, have you ever worked at an auction house? I can't believe you're completely green to this business," Barry said.

  She nodded, sporting a sly smile.

  "I wore The Ice Cube," she confessed in a nonchalant manner.

  Bronson slapped both palms on his desk. "You jest!" he exclaimed. "I wanted to get my hands on that. I was at Labberts at the time. You must have been with The B."

  Labberts, the second largest auction house in Los Angeles, competed with what those in the field referred to as The B, the largest on the west coast. A fierce rivalry existed between the two houses at the time, and Labberts's employees were not welcome at The B. Katrina's firm handled the engagement ring nicknamed The Ice Cube. It was huge with limited facets, but flawless.

  "I only worked part-time, and that was mainly at previews. But, I did show that ring, and I slipped it on my finger a time or two. I wanted to know what it felt like to wear the cost of a house on my hand!" Kate gave Barry a sheepish grin.

  "Good show, Violet." Bronson approved of the girl's moxie. "Can I call you tomorrow to set up our next meeting? I'd like to run my other ideas by you. See if you've any suggestions," he added.

  "Of course. I'll give you my cell number."

  She took the pen and paper offered by the director and wrote her name and phone number, then slid the paper back to Barry. They said their goodbyes, ending in a hearty handshake.

  As the director shook her arm up and down with his usual enthusiasm, she said, "Thank you so much for this opportunity, Barry. You have no idea what just seeing those photos meant to me."

  Bronson nodded with an expression that contradicted her statement. He seemed to know exactly what it had meant to her.

  Chapter 3

  -Too Much Excitement for One Girl-

  Heading back to the world of bean counting held no excitement for Kate after her meeting at the museum. It was two-thirty by the time she reached her office. At least it would be a short afternoon. When the elevators opened on the fifteenth floor, home to Dodd and Company, Chuck Manning met her.

  "You in heap o' trouble, Pale Face," he said with his best John Wayne impersonation. Katrina had gone on several dates with this man over the years, but romance escaped them. A few years older and fond of his younger co-worker, Chuck always made it clear that he'd be interested in more.

  "What's wrong now?" she asked, her eyebrows furrowed. Manning joked around a lot. Hopefully he was jesting.

  "Boss man looking for you all afternoon, Miss Crimshaw. There's a new sheriff in town and you ain't number one no mo'," he said in an accent that reminded her of Stymie from The Little Rascals. Chuck's behavior bordered on inappropriate this afternoon, and he seemed to take a perverse pleasure in worrying her.

  "Thanks for the warning, Chuck," she said, and headed for her office. She wanted to distance herself from him before someone found her guilty by association. She closed the door behind her, and shook her head. No sooner did she sit down, than Kiki burst into her refuge.

  "Mr. Dodd wants to see you right away." She sounded short of breath.

  "What's going on, Kiki?"

  A knock kept her friend from answering.

  "Come in," Katrina called.

  Her supervisor pushed the door open, and stepped inside her office.

  "Kiki just mentioned that you wanted to see me," she stated in a professional tone.

  Kate tried to run interference for the receptionist who received a chilly look from William Dodd.


  "Please join me in my office in five minutes, Katrina. Kiki, come with me," the managing partner ordered before leaving.

  So much for getting the low down from her friend. The receptionist did risk a glance over her shoulder as she left the office, mouthing what looked like He's here with exaggerated lip movements.

  Katrina took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. This was not common behavior for her boss. He'd only treated her with kindness in the past. She drew in another long, slow drink of air, and checked her watch. She pulled out her compact and applied fresh lipstick and arranged her thick, golden brown hair. She wiped a bit of smeared liner from under her blue eyes, and powdered her nose. Ready to face him, she poked her head out of her office. The floor remained eerily quiet, like a storm brewed somewhere on the horizon, and people had already sought cover.

  Outside Mr. Dodd's corner office, Katrina pasted her sweetest smile on, then tapped on his door.

  "Come in," a stern voice commanded.

  She eased the door open, concentrating on maintaining her smile. It had worked wonders for her over the years—it got her out of traffic tickets, eased the ire of a man she bumped from behind in an intersection, and even cheered her boss. She saw her supervisor at his desk, and the receptionist seated in one of three chairs opposite the managing partner. A man occupied the middle chair, but he didn't turn around to greet her. Kiki's face remained frozen in neutral.

 

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