He greeted them with his natural, bluff enthusiasm. “Well done, Neuhaus. Just look around at your magnificent event.” He clapped them both on the back in a fatherly manner and began to maneuver them to the front of the ballroom.
“No, Howard, you know we didn’t do this. Your team did all of this,” Mitzy said.
“We did it, but you believed that we could do something you’d be proud enough to put your name on and we can’t thank you enough.” A waiter in tails walked past, holding his tray of champagne high. Howard slipped two off of the tray and handed them to the ladies.
“It is my pleasure and responsibility this evening to ensure that you both thoroughly enjoy yourselves. Let me begin by introducing you to my lovely wife, Adele Ruche.” A tall, thin woman, not much younger than Howard stood and allowed herself to be introduced. She handed Mitzy and Sabrina each a program.
“This looks to be a wonderful evening,” she said with warmth.
Mitzy and Sabrina found their chairs at the table. Their table was to the left of the dais, in front of a large ballroom floor. “They’ve planned a lindy hop dance demonstration, followed by a bit of ballet. The ballet is for Degas, of course, but the swing sessions will be more fun. After that the ballerinas will come back out and do living dioramas of some of Degas’ more famous pieces. Altogether it looks to be a more charming and entertaining event than last year’s Evening with Andrew Wyeth. As theme’s go, that wasn’t much to work with. Beautiful pictures of course, but terrible as a theme.”
“Why did they choose Wyeth if it was so difficult to plan the evening?” Mitzy understood how to sell a great house to a family, but convincing people to part with money for your cause was a bit bewildering.
“We try to plan our gala around the previous year’s best new acquisition. The Wyeth piece was one the museum was rightfully proud of. But nabbing a Degas this year, well, it makes for a great gala, don’t you think?”
“Absolutely.” Mitzy digested the idea of combining your year’s successes with a fundraising event. Of course your donors want to know you’ve been successful with their money. What a clever way to manage things. And really, not much different from hosting a well staged open house or home auction.
“Pardon me, ladies, there is someone here I need to greet personally. My nephew has come stag this evening. He’s seated with us, so pardon the odd number at our table.” She parted with the women and wandered off after her nephew.
Sabrina flipped through her program. “Ooh look, there’s an auction. Hey bidda, bidda, bidda,” she said.
“Hush, you’ll get us kicked out.” Mitzy hid a giggle behind her program. “Adele didn’t mention an auction. I wonder if it’s new for this evening’s event. What page?” She opened her program and scanned the contents.
“Here, page eleven.” Sabrina handed her program over.
“Jewelry? That’s different.” Mitzy sat upright in her chair. The very formal strapless gown didn’t encourage slouching. She took a deep breath to relax a little and then read the small article about the jewelry holdings that were to be auctioned off.
Across the ballroom Aerin tried to make conversation with her donors as they waited for the event to begin. She usually felt suave, sophisticated and rather young at this event. There was no getting around that those who support formal art museums like hers tended to be silver haired and hold family trusts. She was trying to keep engaged, but her eyes would keep straying to the head table where Mitzy sat as lovely as Psyche waiting for her Eros. It was unforgivable that she would be so perfectly put together tonight.
Everywhere Aerin looked she saw formal, attractive ads for what everyone knew was a plain old real estate office. And her sister-in-law who ought to hold stock in Aqua Net hair products and acrylic nails looked straight from the pages of Vogue.
Aerin herself had on last year’s dress, which still fit fine. But the dress seemed less than sufficient now that everyone was gathered together. Soon her effusive parents-in-law would arrive. At the very least, it would take the pressure of conversation off of Aerin for a few moments.
Brett was lingering at the bar with a group of men and Adele, the boss’s wife. Aerin recognized city council man Young, but not the other two men. She smiled broadly, her eyes crinkling charmingly at the elderly patron of the arts she was talking with. He was quite funny really, if she could just gather her thoughts and pay attention.
“My wife was put out altogether when she saw the auction. I’m afraid I’m going to have to buy the pendant back for her. Can you imagine what it will cost me to insure that rubbish?” he said gruffly, but with a twinkle in his black eyes.
“Pendant, I’m sorry, what do you mean buy her back the pendant?”
“Way back in nineteen twenty-seven, her father donated some old family relics to the museum. The museum was just getting up a jewelry collection. Prosperity, jazz music, rail roads, all that rot. Not that I remember of course, I was just a baby back then.” He tapped the floor with his wooden cane. “Everyone was rich, everything was beautiful, and everything had to be new. So her father donated some old Russian relics that had been his mothers, Romanov, I think, to the museum. The revolution was old news you know, it had been ten years or so and everyone forgot how much they used to love poor Alexandria and her girls. Well anyway, the bits and bobs got donated. Evy’s grandmother never did get over the loss and passed on that same bitter regret to each generation of women. Now I see it’s up for auction because jewelry has gone out again. Evy is going to be at my sleeve all night to buy it.” A waiter wandered past with more champagne. Mr. Wilber nodded goodbye to Aerin and followed, his cane tapping the floor as he went.
Aerin had always liked Mr. Wilber. And she liked him even more now that he was likely to pay any price for a piece of jewelry from the auction catalogue.
She followed Mr. Wilber as he meandered through the crowd and found herself looking through the auction catalogue. She looked over his shoulder at the pictures of the family pendant. The huge, bright ruby surrounded by emerald cut rubies and baguette emeralds, set in filigreed gold took her breath away. Perhaps it was Royal Romanov, but the name in the catalogue was Mikhaylichenko-Romanov.
Russian royal lineage had always confounded Aerin, so she turned the page to the other items for auction. One that caught her eye was a sweet little Belle Époque platinum broach, large sapphires set with small diamonds in a bow shape. It would look great on her charcoal wool winter jacket. Overall it was prettier than it was valuable. The maker was a local man from the turn of the century, talented but not genius. She would definitely have to make sure Brett saw this piece. He loved her and he didn’t mind when she bought attractive pieces of art.
She wandered off towards the band to admire the way they seemed to dance with their trumpets while they played. Big band music was an odd style to compliment a Degas theme, but it was undeniably festive. Her eyes drifted over to Mitzy again. Mitzy had lost a little of her aloof perfection in a fit of giggles with her assistant.
Mitzy took a cool drink of water to compose herself. The champagne had made her lightheaded already. Just a bit. She felt young and silly, but now was neither the time nor the place. Now was the time to make an impression.
She saw her parents enter at the side door. The arts gala was an event her mother looked forward to every year. Her father liked it because it was a swanky night on the town and put him good for the rest of the year. Her mother looked pretty and not a bit out of place. In fact, compared to the average age in the room, she was still young and vibrant. Her parents gravitated to a couple on the left of the room, obviously people they had met before.
“Pardon me, Sabrina. My parents are here and I think they can introduce me to some new friends.”
“I’ll be fine. Surely the stag nephew will join us sooner or later. I’d hate to miss that.” Sabrina grinned.
“Oh, Mitzy, you look stunning!” Susan Neuhaus held her at arm’s length and then pulled her in for a warm hug. She draped Mit
zy’s arm through her own and introduced her to her friends.
“Melanie, Rodger, this is my beautiful and successful daughter, Mitzy.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Mitzy said with a genuine smile.
“And you as well. Are we really meeting the famous Mitzy Neuhaus of radio, print and everywhere?” Rodger asked, with the deep throaty voice of an elderly smoker.
“From almost everywhere.” Her eyes twinkled with delight as she accepted his compliments.
“Let me tell you, young woman, I heard what you said on the radio last week. That young man deserved a dressing down. I’m not entirely sure why you came back and apologized to him.” He gave her a stern look.
“Oh, Rodger, you spend too much time listening to AM radio,” his younger wife, Melanie chirped.
“You know, Rodger, I had a hard time with it. I wondered what apologizing would do to my reputation as a hard hitting professional. But in the end, I didn’t treat him with brotherly love at the time, did I? He has a problem, but I ought to have redirected his conversation politely and then spoken with him off of the air. In the end I knew I had to apologize to him in the same way that I had injured him, in public, on the air. It was the Christ-like thing to do.”
“I thought it was lovely, Mitzy. I really did. I put my foot in my mouth all the time, but I never have the courage to apologize like you did.” Melanie’s face was full of genuine admiration.
Mitzy couldn’t help but wonder if Melanie wanted her dear old husband to buy her a Victorian mansion.
“Have you looked through the auction catalogue yet?” Mitzy asked Melanie.
“I have. Isn’t the Romanov piece something else? Can you imagine wearing that?” Melanie asked.
“No!” Mitzy laughed. “I’d be afraid to own such an important piece of jewelry. To borrow a phrase, ‘it belongs in a museum.’ But I really like the Belle Époque piece, platinum with sapphires.”
“That was really pretty. It would look perfect with your hair and eyes,” Melanie said.
“Thanks. I have my eye on it tonight. We’ll see how bidding goes,” Mitzy said.
“Dare I ask how business has been? With everything you hear in the papers, I was surprised a realty firm was able to host this evening’s function.”
“Oh, we would love more business, like everyone else, but we will survive this crisis.”
“Come along, ladies,” Roger said abruptly. “Let’s get over to that bar for a real drink.”
The crowd of gentlemen previously at the bar had moved on. Brett saw his parents and sister heading in his direction and stayed put. He thought he would do the nice and make some introductions for Mitzy. He knew how she thought, and knew she was only here to meet people who could still afford to buy property.
Aerin had brought the Wilbers to Brett where they were all chatting as Mitzy’s crowd joined them.
“Mr. Wilber, Mrs. Simonite-Wilber. You remember my parents, Susan and Frank. But I don’t think you’ve met my sister, Mitzy.”
Mitzy smiled and shook Mr. Wilber’s hand. “I’m very pleased to meet you both. I’m delighted by the evening so far, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know how truthfully Mr. Wilber can answer that for you. It looks to be a rather expensive evening for him.” Mrs. Simonite-Wilber had a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
“Indeed?” Mitzy asked.
“Yes, indeed. My little wife here wants me to buy her a royal treasure.” Mr. Wilber squeezed his wife’s arm gently as he spoke.
“He means to say that I want him to ransom my family heirlooms. And if he doesn’t want to do it I will just have to use my own little auction paddle.” She patted her handbag with a thin, shaky hand.
“Your family heirlooms are in the auction catalogue?” Mitzy asked.
“Indeed they are. My Grandmother’s family jewels—Romanov you know. It turns out, they aren’t good enough for the museum anymore so I thought my darling Mr. Wilber ought to purchase them back for me.”
“And your daughter wants me to buy her a new boat. Do you want to tell her you got a necklace instead?” Mr. Wilber crossed his arms on his chest with a harrumph, but didn’t seem as opposed to the idea as he was trying to sound.
“If our daughter loves the river, I don’t see how that is my fault. You were the one who took her out every summer.” And without acknowledging their new acquaintances, Mr. and Mrs. Wilber took their disagreement back in the direction of the auction catalogue.
“I was rather partial to the little Belle Époque piece,” Mitzy said with a smile.
“Of course you were,” Aerin snapped.
Mitzy caught the tone and changed the subject again. “Will any of you brave the lindy hop with me later? Dad?”
Her dad laughed and said yes. And then in the nature of cocktail parties they drifted apart again.
Mitzy came back to her seat at the table and saw Sabrina deep in conversation. All she could see were the broad shoulders and thick black hair of her dinner companion, possibly Adele’s nephew. She got a perfectly clear view when she sat down.
Alonzo. Of course.
“Good evening,” she said coolly.
Sabrina rocked her champagne flute on the table. “Well, Mitzy, you’ll never guess who the stag nephew is. Handsome devil isn’t he?” She patted Alonzo on the arm.
He stiffened. “I noticed that you had a…presence here.” He picked up the table tent and read the welcome from Neuhaus notice again.
Adele rejoined the table at that moment. “Oh good, Alonzo, you are meeting people. I thought you might know Mitzy and Sabrina, since you all are in the same industry.”
Alonzo cleared his throat. “They’ve done a good job with your promotional materials.” He set the tent back in the middle of the table. He had been impressed by the mellow, understated tone to her new logo.
“Thank you,” Mitzy said. “We handled them in-house. You know, I’ve wanted to be a part of this event for years and just this year had the opportunity. That is to say, Aerin, my sister-in-law, has been inviting me for years, but I’ve let my parents take the tickets.” She was rambling a little. The girls in the office were right about one thing, Alonzo was worth looking at. He had deep black eyes and thick stubble on his square chin. His worst feature—make that his best feature, which was the worst part—was that he dimpled very nicely when he got around to smiling. He had tried to make use of those dimples in regards to her office space more than once.
The thought of how rude he had been to her about the office space got her riled up again. She sat up a little straighter, if possible. Her alabaster shoulders glittered in the candlelight, set off by the line of her strapless black dress. “How has your hunt for office space been going, Alonzo?” she asked.
Adele looked at her with surprise. She hadn’t expected that they might know each other well. She looked at Mitzy more carefully and measured the tension in the air. This might be a very good match indeed, she thought. Mitzy Neuhaus could keep up with her temperamental, brilliant nephew and frankly, had enough good looks to get his attention. It was obvious she had his attention. So obvious in fact, that Adele wondered why they weren’t already seeing each other.
“I think you know, Mitzy, that there are very few spaces just right for my needs right now. I would love to get to work on renovating an office space. It would give my men some work, give them a job. I hate having them on rolling lay offs.” He took what was supposed to be a casual drink of his coffee, but his fist clenched the cup.
Mitzy’s heart fluttered. It hadn’t occurred to her that he might want her space for that kind of reason. She assumed that he was selfish and bossy and rude—which he was. But apparently, he also cared about his crew. She coughed lightly and sipped her water.
“How’s the radio show?” Alonzo asked, a little grin playing at the corners of his mouth. “I hear you are on more often now.”
Mitzy noticed how closely Adele was watching them and decided to attempt to kill Alonzo with kindness. Or at le
ast with politeness.
“It’s going well. I’m enjoying being on more often. I bet the station would love to have someone like you in to sub for me now and again—someone less bitter.”
He laughed. “If you’ve got more work than you can handle just call me, I’m sure I can fit you in. I’ll be done with my little Baltimore Street project soon and have plenty of time for you.”
She choked on her water. “Your what?”
“My little Baltimore Street project. I think the bank is going to be very interested in talking to us about it.”
“If you do anything that hurts the value of that family neighborhood—”
“You mean of your Baltimore Street rental?”
“It is right next door to the Victorian. Debbie doesn’t want to live by a business.” She took a deep cleansing yoga breath. This was neither the time nor the place.
“Ow!” Sabrina had been jostled by someone behind her. She turned to look. “Watch out. Will you?” She seemed to be speaking to no one, but a well dressed waiter or busser or someone was moving along behind them and must have knocked into her. “I don’t know what he got me with, but it was quite a jolt! Sorry, guys.” Sabrina wasn’t a bit sorry for interrupting. Even tipsy, she could tell it was time to distract them from what could have become an ugly scene.
The auction finally came, after all of the dancing and what was a good, but rich dinner. The friendly seven at the table—Mitzy, Sabrina, Adele, Howard, and Alonzo, and the Mitchells who were on the board of directors, had managed to enjoy themselves through the entertainment. It was a table for eight but Alonzo and Mitzy had enough presence to make the empty plate disappear.
Everyone had a small white paddle with a black number on it for the auction. Sabrina tucked hers under her chair and drank the coffee that Mitzy had secured for her.
For most of the auction, the head table was appreciative, but quiet. Their bidding wasn’t particularly expected. But then the Belle Époque piece came up. Many women in the crowd were interested in it, so the bidding quickly went over one thousand. Brett let Aerin know early on that the piece wasn’t worth it to him. Aerin sat out the bidding.
Foreclosed: A Mitzy Neuhaus Mystery (A Mitzy Neuhaus Mystery, a Cozy Christian Collection) Page 7