The Doll Brokers

by Hal Ross

  “Whoa,” Twekesborough said. “Impressive.”

  “Put your hand on her chest, her heart beats. And there are no discernable wires. It’s all controlled by a computer chip, powered by a miniature nickel cadmium battery that will last five years.” That, she thought, was the technology that set the doll apart.

  Twekesborough reached for Baby Talk N Glow. He touched her nose.

  “That’s my nose,” the doll said, and Twekesborough jumped a little in surprise. He gripped her foot.

  “That’s my foot,” she said.

  He tweaked one of her toes.

  “That’s my toe.”

  “Kids will love this.” He was practically gushing.

  “I know.” Ann sat down again, pleased. She didn’t look at Jonathan but could feel him leaning forward in his own seat.

  “Of course, the voice would have to be changed for us, to get a British accent,” Mark said. “We can do the digital master here and forward it to Hong Kong.” He paused. “And how much will this little baby cost me?”

  Ann took a breath before forging ahead. “Ten dollars and fifty cents.” They both knew that the doll would ship directly from China to England, and that her company’s profit was included in the price.

  Twekesborough fumbled with the doll as though she had bitten him. “Lord, Annie. That’s high.”

  “Annie?” Jonathan repeated.

  Ann ignored his comment and focused on Twekesborough. “Retail in the States is going to be ten dollars higher than what you would normally pay for this type of doll,” she said. “Twenty-nine ninety-nine.”

  “Oh? And how are your American customers reacting to that?”

  “I’m still about two weeks away from approaching them.”

  “What if they won’t go for the price?”

  “Then I’ll cancel the project, and you’ll be the first to know.”

  Jonathan made an odd sound in his throat. Ann’s brow furrowed. Her tension was starting to go sub-dural now. Unconsciously, she rubbed her neck.

  “How many pieces would you like me to commit to?” Twekesborough asked.

  She needed a strong commitment from England; there was simply no getting around it. “A hundred thousand.”

  “Bloody hell!” Mark exploded.

  “Not that infatuated with her, are you?” Jonathan asked, inclining his head to let it be known he was talking about Ann, not the doll. Ann gasped at his rudeness, but Twekesborough only laughed.

  “Actually, I am,” he replied. “And I know what she’s capable of.” He paused. “All right, Annie. I’m in.”

  Ann gave him her warmest smile.

  Twekesborough rose and reached for her hand. Ann stood as well and gave it to him. Rather than shake it, he took it and pressed it to his lips. “Please let me know how it goes.” He said. “I think she’s a winner.”

  “Mark, thank you for your confidence. It means the world to me. And of course, I’ll keep you posted.”

  “Do you have time for an early dinner?”

  “Normally that would be lovely, but I think we’d better grab something at the airport.” She stopped his protest before he could voice it. “These trips are so grueling, Mark. I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want to rush anymore than I have to.

  He seemed genuinely disappointed. “I’ll have my car drop you off, then.”

  “Wonderful. Thanks.”

  Ann turned from the desk and found Jonathan was already gone. By the time she got downstairs and outside, he was in the car. She slid onto the rear seat beside him.

  “Let’s go, Annie,” he said.

  Ann’s jaw was tight enough to hurt. “Your behavior was an outrage.”

  “Yeah. Well, his fawning was pretty nauseating.”

  “Fawning?”

  He caught her hand and kissed it hard. “Fawning,” he defined.

  Ann snatched her hand back. “Stop it.”

  “What kind of personal relationship do the two of you have?” he asked.

  Ann fumed. “Explain personal.”

  “Did you sleep with him?”

  She had to choke back her anger. This was something she always had to fight her way around. “No.”

  “Well, you do something to him. He’s all ga-ga over you.”

  “And how is that any of your business?”

  “I’m just curious.”

  “Did you ever think I might not have gotten the commitment we needed if I’d looked more like you … and displayed your disposition?”

  He shot her a wry look. “That doll is pretty impressive. I didn’t realize she could do all that.”

  “Felicia’s no fool. The doll is amazing and Felicia is crazy about her. She sees her potential.”

  “Will you really scrap the project if you meet with resistance on the price in the States?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Okay,” he said finally. “Then let’s make sure this doll flies for my mother.”

  Ann hesitated, then nodded. She felt some of the tension slide off her skin. A truce had been called. She hoped it could last for more than one afternoon.

  CHAPTER 16

  October in Madrid dripped with sunshine, snug beneath a cloudless sky that was a quintessential blue. This time they were met at the airport by Seve Marques.

  In direct contrast to Twekesborough, there was nothing endearing about Marques. Ann watched him approach, feeling herself stiffen. He was thin and sharp-edged, with a pencil-slash of a mustache. His hair was full and perfectly black despite the fact that Ann knew he had at least twenty-five years on her.

  He stepped between her and Jonathan when they passed though the gate, shutting Jonathan out as insignificant to the equation. He might well be, Ann thought, but it was still disrespectful. “Welcome. Your trip was good?” Marques caught her hand and kept holding it. They took four, five, six steps into the concourse before Ann managed to slide her fingers free.

  “Madrid is our third destination in as many days,” she answered. “You know how it is.”

  “Ah, you should relax then before we talk business. Let me take you to lunch.”

  Ann thought of wine at mid-day, of four courses and paella. Her stomach lurched at the thought. She was exhausted, but she knew Spain was going to be tough. There was no sense antagonizing Marques by refusing his offer. “Wonderful,” she murmured.

  They piled into a small black sedan with seats as soft as butter. Ann wanted to draw her feet up beneath her, snuggle in, but she and both men were cupped together like triplets in a womb, and there wasn’t enough space. Marques sat between her and Jonathan. He shifted his weight until his hip slid closer to hers.

  “Jonathan, how are you doing over there?” Ann asked to forestall any cute or caustic comment he might have. His behavior with Twekesborough was still fresh in her mind.

  “Real peachy, cara mia.”

  “Any particular reason you’re speaking Italian in Spain?” she asked.

  “We’re in Spain? When did we get here?” he responded.

  Ann smiled. She knew what he was feeling. The three days they’d spent in Europe felt like twice that amount. She eased her weight against the door, trying to escape the press of Marques’s body. The car inched up in front of a restaurant that offered al fresco dining. Wrought iron tables under a red canopy. Flower boxes spilled leaves and petals over a barrier rail.

  “I’m sorry—what?” Ann glanced at Marques. He had said something to her while they were being seated.

  “May I see the doll?” he repeated. “Perhaps I am being premature. We should wait until after we dine. But you’ve piqued my curiosity.” His hand moved to her thigh to coax her.

  Ann crossed her legs the other way to avoid his touch. She reached for the box she’d placed under her chair.

  “You’re a skittish American lady.” His voice was an undertone, meant only for her ears.

  She wanted his business. Desperately. But her thigh wasn’t part of the deal. Ann crossed her legs again when hi
s hand came back.

  She was shaking a little. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. She was too tired to deal with this sort of thing right now.

  Jonathan reached across and took the doll off her hands. “She’s a barracuda,” he said.

  Marques shifted in his chair, more or less acknowledging him for the first time. “Your baby doll?”

  “No. The American lady.”

  “Ah.” Marques’s grin showed teeth. “She is your lady?”

  “Do I look suicidal? But you’re not buying her, right? You want this little girl.” Jonathan held up the doll.

  “Yes, of course.”

  He went through Baby Talk N Glow’s routine, going so far as to add a few of his own improvisations.

  He’d picked it up well, Ann thought. In spite of herself, she was almost grateful to Jonathan for taking over, and she smiled slightly at the sight of him, the macho artist, with a doll in his hands.

  When Marques asked about the doll’s battery and location, Ann found Jonathan’s foot under the table and pressed down hard to warn him not to answer. To her astonishment, she felt him kick her. She winced with pain, but before she could field the question herself, he answered.

  “It’s a secret.” Jonathan reached and took the doll back from Marques’ hands. “It’s tucked up so neat and tidy, even I don’t know where it is.”

  “And who are you?” It finally occurred to Marques to ask.

  “A genuine, bona fide Morhardt.”

  Marques looked to Ann doubtfully. “So who knows where the battery is?”

  She suddenly felt playful. “I do,” she said, “and if you commit to a hundred thousand pieces, I promise to tell you.” Ann knew where Marques was going with this.

  “One hundred thousand pieces? For that amount, I would need a sample. I have associates. I cannot make such a decision myself.”

  “Sorry. No sample,” she said, knocking his hand off her knee again. He looked startled, then frowned.

  The waiter came for their order. For the next thirty minutes, Ann sipped wine and picked at the rich paella which, under different circumstances, she would have enjoyed immensely. She declined desert and when the meal was over, she stood to stretch and found she was suddenly woozy. She started towards the ladies’ room when she felt a hand on her elbow and tried to jerk it away. The hand held fast.

  It was Jonathan next to her, steadying her. “You okay?” he whispered.

  “Just peachy, cara mia.”

  He noted the look in her eyes. “You’re buzzed,” he said. Then he added, “Let’s get out of here. We’re wasting our time.”

  Ann shook her head. “We’ve got Lothario’s car—which, I might add, contains our luggage. And we have to preserve appearances with him for the next time around. There’s a future beyond this doll, Jonathan.”

  “Is there?”

  She thought about it for a fraction of a second. “Well, actually, maybe not.”

  “Okay then. Lothario can kiss my ass.”

  He kept her elbow and steered her toward the street. He found a cab and pushed her inside, then he went back to get their luggage from Marques’s driver. Marques was still in the restaurant, taking care of the bill.

  “Where are we going?” he asked Ann when he got in the cab.

  “Damned if I know,” she muttered. “Old Seve made our hotel arrangements.”

  She leaned into him a little when the cab turned a corner. Jonathan caught her shoulder and shoved her upright. “Okay. I know Madrid pretty well.”

  That surprised her. “You do?”

  “Of course. What do you think? I’ve never traveled before? I was here last spring. A group of artist friends decided it was time to stir the muse in all of us.” He turned to the driver. “To the Melia, por favor.”

  Ann settled back in her seat, rubbed her forehead and stared straight ahead. “We’ve got a great product. This stop shouldn’t have gone so badly.”

  “You’ve got Markie-Poo in London wrapped around your finger.”

  “And I just lost Spain.” She thought about it. “No, I didn’t. Marques never intended to give us a commitment.”

  “Is that why you wouldn’t let him have a sample?”

  “If I had, within ten weeks every store shelf in Spain would have been stocked with a Baby Talk N Glow replica. They’re famous for their knock-offs. He was trying to angle something out of me that he could copy.”

  “Or you bailed,” he said.

  “No, I didn’t. I wanted to stay. Except for the fact that he was groping me.”

  Jonathan felt something hard prod him in the chest. “Where?”

  “In the restaurant. Under the table.”

  “No, I meant which part of your … anatomy.”

  She cut him another look. “This interests you for some reason?”

  “Yeah.”

  “My leg.”

  “And you let him?”

  She elbowed him lightly in the ribs.

  “This is bad, right?” he asked finally. “Losing Spain.”

  “It’s bad.”

  The car stopped in front of their hotel, but he didn’t open the door. “What are you going to tell Felicia?”

  She never hesitated. “Not a word.”

  “You’re going to lie to her about it?”

  “Of course not. I’m going to evade her.”

  “Can you do that?”

  “Until I have some good news to tell her, yes.”

  Her skin seemed stretched over her cheekbones and wore an almost bluish cast. Then her eyes sparked again with that familiar grit. “Are you going to sit here staring at me all day or can we go inside?” she snapped.

  There, he thought, was the Ann he knew. “Where are we off to tomorrow?”

  “It’s a secret,” she teased. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

  “I think I’m going to pour more liquor into you tonight and get your secrets out onto the table.”

  “After I sleep. I need a second wind, then maybe I’ll dance on a few tables for you.”

  She pushed on her door and got out of the car. Jonathan retrieved their luggage. He kept his gaze slanted her way as she strode into the lobby. Her legs were steady enough but there was definitely something off in the set of her shoulders. It was the kind of detail his painter’s eye would catch. The arrogance was gone, he thought.

  She was scared, he realized. What had she said? Spain shouldn’t have gone this badly?

  Yeah, he thought, he’d ply her with liquor and dig into her for details. But was that all he really wanted? Details of their itinerary? An explanation of why she was so worried? Or was he hiding the truth of his true motives, even from himself?

  CHAPTER 17

  Ann was halfway across The Melia’s mammoth entranceway when she heard her name being called. She couldn’t place the voice so she looked around. She spotted Sidney Greenspan, tall and corpulent, hurrying toward her from a bar off the hotel lobby. In Madrid. In the same hotel Jonathan had chosen. Ann felt her chances at sleep sliding through her fingers like sand.

  Greenspan took her hand in his and gave it a vigorous pump. “What in the world are you doing in Spain?”

  He knew about Baby Talk N Glow, she thought. He had been at the coming-out party Felicia had thrown for the doll. “We’ve been to see Seve Marques.”

  “How did it go?”

  “It went.”

  “I heard you couldn’t get financing,” he said.

  Her heart kicked. How had word of that gotten out? “A nasty rumor, nothing more.”

  “You did get a bank, then?”

  “Of course, we did.”

  “And Marques was enthusiastic?”

  “Exactly the reaction I expected,” she said without lying. The last thing she needed was for rumors of this trip to get back to the States before she did.

  “We just arrived,” Greenspan said. “We’re making a little vacation of it.”

  Ann looked towards the bar and saw his wife’s fa
ce peering out at them through a trellis-like partition. She was as pretty as ever, with her abundance of red hair partly shadowing her overly made-up face.

  The woman wiggled her fingers at her and she gave a wave back. God, she’s young, Ann thought, not for the first time.

  Jonathan stepped up to shake Greenspan’s hand. “Good to see you, Sidney.”

  “You two are here together?” Greenspan asked, sounding surprised.

  “We’re just one big happy family,” Jonathan offered, placing a possessive hand on Ann’s shoulder.

  Now what the hell was he up to? Ann half turned to him. “Have you lost your mind?” she breathed in an undertone.

  “I’m just eccentric,” he murmured back.

  Greenspan’s mouth gaped. “I didn’t realize you two were … close.”

  “We’re not,” Ann said. “Jonathan is interested in our new doll, so he made this trip with me.”

  “Ah—I see.” He paused. “Have you both eaten? Charlie and I were just about to grab a bite in the bar. Why don’t you join us?”

  Ann heard her stomach grumble. She pressed a hand there, embarrassed. “Maybe a drink,” she said.

  Jonathan made a sound in his throat. But to his credit, she thought, he swallowed whatever he’d been about to say. She pivoted to face him. “I’ve gotten my second wind,” she whispered.

  “You’re whacked.” He dropped his voice as well so Greenspan wouldn’t overhear. “And you don’t need one more guy slobbering over you.”

  “Sidney doesn’t slobber,” she said. “He’s married.”

  “Sure, that’ll stop him. Let me make our excuses.”

  Something caught in her chest. It was the second—maybe even the third—time in as many days that he had tried to step in to save her. “I wish I had a choice, Jonathan, but I don’t. I have to show strength. If I slink out of here now with my tail between my legs, word of it will spread.”

  She turned back to Greenspan. “We’ve got a little while,” she said. “I’d like to say hello to Charlie.”