‘Not this time,’ he said. ‘I’m just picking someone up. See you soon.’
She stared after him. He was like a different person to the man she’d had the pizza with in the London sunshine, the man who’d made her drink Prosecco and laughed when she’d got tomato sauce on her chin. He was brisk and businesslike and totally focused on what he had to do.
But it didn’t matter. She’d made her mind up about one thing.
She wasn’t a girl who didn’t know how to fall in love any more.
Because she just had.
Chapter 26
Citrine: a yellow-gold transparent quartz
Being in love – even if the object of her affection was totally unaware of it – was a bewildering yet exciting sensation. Every day, whether she saw him or not, Will Murdoch was always in her thoughts. Not necessarily at the front of them – after all, she was working hard on the projects Clara had given her and they needed her concentration – but she was conscious of his existence, of the fact that he was on the planet, that even when she couldn’t see him, he was out there somewhere. She was always alert for the sound of his footsteps on the stairs, or the moment when he might push open the door and say hello. The fact that he was away more than he was in the office didn’t matter. Her happiness was inextricably linked with his presence. Every day she didn’t see him was a crushing blow, but every passing day brought her closer to one when she would.
It was the day of the opera event before she spoke to him again.
He walked into the function room while she was arranging a selection of earrings in a display case.
‘Wow,’ he said.
‘They’re lovely, aren’t they?’ She held up some rubies for his inspection.
‘I wasn’t talking about them. The wow was for you.’
Bey’s heart flipped. She knew she looked good. Her dress was a vibrant green, which contrasted with her flaming hair, she was wearing Van Aelten and Schaap diamonds from one of their vintage lines, and now that Will was here, the excitement that had been building up within her about the event bubbled over.
‘I feel amazing,’ she confessed. ‘No wonder truly rich people are always so confident. How can you not be when you’re dripping with fabulous rocks? You look great yourself,’ she added, with an approving look at his tux.
‘I hate dressing up,’ he said.
‘It’s good for you,’ she told him. ‘Men are usually so hopeless at it. On a night out women will pull out all the stops with dresses and high heels and make-up and hair, but the men think a brightly coloured polo shirt outside their jeans is enough.’
‘Guilty as charged,’ admitted Will.
Though he’d look good in anything, reflected Bey, aware that she was staring at him rather too intently and immediately turning her attention back to the display case.
‘Who’s at your table tonight?’ he asked.
She rearranged the jewellery as she replied.
‘A finance guru and his wife. A tech mogul and his girlfriend. Afton Hall, the actress, and her husband. And,’ she lowered her voice, ‘someone called the Contessa and her guest.’
‘An interesting bunch,’ said Will. ‘You’ll like the Contessa. She’s good fun as well as frighteningly clever. Scares the pants off me when she asks me questions.’
‘Nothing would scare you.’ She looked up at him again.
‘You’d be surprised,’ said Will. ‘I’ve got to talk to Gerritt. See you later.’
She watched as he weaved his way around the displays.
She was still in love with him.
Which was crazy. But true.
The Contessa was just as much fun as Will had said. She was tall and striking, handsome rather than beautiful; once seen, never forgotten. She wasn’t really a member of the aristocracy but was the only granddaughter of an ex-Mafia boss and had inherited the bulk of the family’s wealth. She had homes in the US and the UK as well as a farmhouse in Tuscany from where she ran an exclusive Italian food company. She had never married, although whenever she was seen at social events she always had an attractive man by her side. Her companion for the evening, Tyson Jett, was her US attorney, and as taciturn as she was outgoing. He reminded Bey of Denzel Washington in Crimson Tide , which was one of her mother’s favourite movies.
The conversation around their table was wide ranging, but because she was sitting beside them, Bey found herself talking to the Contessa and her attorney more than the other guests. The Contessa asked her about her design work and Bey told her that while she adored Van Aelten’s vintage lines, she hoped to work on more contemporary designs in the future. The Contessa regarded her thoughtfully from dark brown eyes and assured her that she was looking forward to seeing them.
Then the opera singers did their thing while the models strode down a catwalk between the tables, glittering in Van Aelten and Schaap’s newest ranges, which left the guests cooing in delight. The Contessa was particularly taken by a necklace modelled on Queen Mary’s diamond rivière, which she insisted on trying on. The original had consisted of thirty-four cut diamonds set in gold and diamond – valued, Clara had told Bey when she first saw the design, at around two million dollars. The Van Aelten version was a more modest piece, with fewer stones, but it was still utterly fabulous and, despite their obvious wealth, out of the reach of many people in the room. The Contessa was charmed by the necklace but eventually decided that a pair of pink topaz and diamond earrings called the Marie Antoinette were the pieces going home with her that night.
‘I’ll wear them now,’ she said, removing her garnet studs and putting them into a box, much to the dismay of Tyson, who murmured that she should really wait until she had the new ones insured.
‘Not a bit of it,’ retorted the Contessa. ‘They’re perfect with this dress.’
Bey agreed. They were fabulous.
Afton Hall wanted to try on a bracelet she’d seen earlier, so Bey went off to find it for her. Despite wearing diamonds herself, she was feeling slightly overwhelmed by the glitz and glamour. She wondered if Warren’s had ever held an event like this. She knew they invited guests to sporting events (she remembered Lola being particularly sniffy about them sponsoring races at Cheltenham), but she couldn’t imagine her father and Donna in this sort of crowd. Although Adele was a different story. She wouldn’t be fazed by any of them, not even the Contessa.
As more and more guests asked to try on jewellery, Bey found herself busily fetching and returning various pieces. Her feet were beginning to ache and she longed to be able to kick off her high heels and sit down in a corner. And it was probably because of her tired feet that she did eventually almost tumble from her spindly shoes and was saved from falling by a woman standing nearby who reached out a hand to steady her.
‘Thank you,’ gasped Bey. ‘I would’ve made such an ass of myself if I’d landed on the floor.’
‘That’s OK.’ The woman, who Bey realised was closer to her own age than she’d originally thought, smiled at her. She was very striking, with cropped blond hair, wide blue eyes and a rosebud mouth. ‘Are you Bey?’
‘Yes. I’m sorry, I don’t know you. But you’re obviously a good client.’ She nodded at the woman’s citrine necklace and matching bracelet, which were from a popular Van Aelten and Schaap collection, while at the same time noting that she wore an enormous diamond ring on her engagement finger.
‘I’d love to own them all, but only the diamond is mine. I borrowed the rest for tonight. I’m Callista,’ the woman added.
Bey racked her brains but couldn’t remember a client named Callista.
‘Callista Cox,’ said the woman. ‘Will Murdoch’s fiancée.’
Bey suddenly knew what it meant when people said that the bottom had fallen out of their world. She could hear Callista talking and she knew that she was replying to her, but she couldn’t think of anything other than that Will Murdoch was engaged to the most beautiful woman in the room and she hadn’t known about it. She felt herself grow hot and col
d as she remembered falling for him over pizza and inviting him in for coffee. And then asking him if he’d like to join her for a sandwich. Both of which invitations he’d politely turned down. The truth was that while she’d been falling in love with him, he was simply being friendly towards the new girl, trying to make her feel part of the company team. The humiliation was almost on a par with the moment she’d had to admit to stealing Astrid’s sapphire ring. Although thankfully, on this occasion, she could keep her embarrassment to herself.
Of course it hadn’t been love. How could it have been? She’d been besotted, that was all. Because he’d been kind and generous and had found her her dream job. How could she ever have imagined that what she was feeling was love? But, of course, she wasn’t good at love. Her father was absolutely right. She wasn’t a good judge of men. Or herself.
Thank God she hadn’t said anything remotely romantic to him.
Thank God she hadn’t said anything to anyone else.
‘Are you OK?’ Callista paused in the middle of the story she was telling. It was something to do with a loose bull in a field. Bey had no idea how the conversation had turned to farmyard tales.
‘I . . . oh, yes. I’m sorry. I thought I saw . . .’
But she didn’t finish her sentence because just then Will came over to them.
‘You’ve met,’ he said. ‘I was going to introduce you earlier, but Bey was totally caught up with the Contessa, weren’t you?’
‘Yes,’ said Bey.
‘She bought the pink topaz earrings.’
‘Yes,’ said Bey again.
‘Good sale,’ said Will.
‘Oh look!’ Callista cut in. ‘There’s Gerritt. I haven’t spoken to him yet. Back in a sec.’ She waved across the room and Bey saw her magnificent diamond engagement ring flash in the light.
‘Sorry I didn’t get to talk to you before now,’ said Will. ‘It’s been manic, hasn’t it?’
‘Yes.’ Bey was beginning to think her entire vocabulary had shrunk to just one word.
‘I was actually hoping to introduce you to Cally before the guests arrived,’ Will said. ‘But she was delayed getting here. Mind you, she’s never on time for anything, so I guess that’s nothing new.’
‘Yes,’ said Bey.
‘Bey?’ He looked at her. ‘Are you feeling all right?’
‘Yes.’ She cleared her throat. ‘Yes, of course. A bit tired, and my feet are sore in these silly shoes. It’s been a long day. And I’m sure you want to join Callista.’
‘Oh, she’s happy with Gerritt,’ said Will. ‘How are you?’
‘Fine. Why wouldn’t I be?’
‘It’s your first Van Aelten and Schaap event,’ said Will. ‘We like to think it’s fun, but it can also be stressful.’
‘It was very glamorous, but in the end it’s just selling things.’
Will looked surprised. ‘I’ve never heard you talk about jewellery like that before.’
‘It’s true though, isn’t it?’ She shrugged. ‘Like you said, we see people when they’re rich and happy. We made them happy tonight. They were in the mood to buy stuff. And they did.’
‘Are you sure you’re OK?’
‘Of course.’
‘Would you like to nab a drink at the bar?’ he asked. ‘Most of the clients have gone home and the displays won’t be disassembled till tomorrow. You deserve a little time to let your hair down. Though it’s doing that by itself,’ he added as he reached out and his fingers brushed a lock of her red curls that had come loose from its clip.
Bey froze. ‘Don’t touch me,’ she said.
He jerked his hand back as though she’d slapped him.
‘I’m sorry.’ He looked shocked. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you.’
‘No,’ she said. ‘It’s me. Sometimes I . . . It doesn’t matter. I have to tidy up. See you later.’
‘Bey . . .’
She looked at him without speaking. Then she adjusted the strap of her high heels and walked out of the room.
Haute Joaillerie
Four years later
Chapter 27
Fancy diamond: a coloured diamond. Pink is associated with joy and happiness
The sound of Iolanda groaning distracted Bey from the image she’d been studying on the screen in front of her. She looked up and saw her colleague make a face at her own computer screen.
‘What’s the matter?’ she asked.
‘I can’t seem to get this right,’ complained Iolanda. ‘It looks like I’m just shoving the diamond in the middle of the setting any old way.’
‘Let me take a peek.’ Bey got up from her desk near the window and crossed the room while Iolanda stood up and stretched her arms over her head.
‘I’ve been at it all morning and I’m making things worse not better,’ she said as Bey slid into her seat and clicked the mouse in front of her. ‘I know it’s a nice commission, but Mrs Semenova loses it completely if she doesn’t like the work, and she’s certainly not going to like this.’
Bey grinned at her. In the course of her four years as a designer at Van Aelten and Schaap, she’d dealt with the Russian oligarch’s wife on a number of occasions. Raisa Semenova was demanding, changed her mind frequently and was apt to throw spectacular tantrums when the design of the jewellery she commissioned didn’t live up to her expectations. So Bey understood why Iolanda was getting frazzled, even though Raisa would have looked fabulous wearing a glass stone from a market stall, let alone a bespoke piece from Van Aelten and Schaap. Until her marriage, she’d worked as a model and had appeared in campaigns for H&M and Zara, but now she owned a contemporary art gallery off the New King’s Road. She regarded her own appearance as a work of art too, and her clothes, accessories and jewellery were an important part of her image.
Iolanda, the junior designer, had been asked to remodel a necklace using gems from a piece that Raisa didn’t like. Her husband had given her the original necklace, rumoured to have been owned by a Russian princess, for their wedding anniversary, but although Raisa loved the stones – and who wouldn’t, thought Bey as she examined them; they were stunning – she didn’t think the fussy style of the necklace itself suited her, and had asked the team at Van Aelten and Schaap to come up with something different.
‘I can’t make a mess of it,’ Iolanda said as Bey continued to manipulate the onscreen drawing. ‘She’s a great customer and Clara will go nuts if we don’t get it right.’
‘Let’s not panic.’ Bey’s fingers slid over the trackpad. ‘Look,’ she said. ‘If you lengthen this here . . . and then bring this out a little more . . .’ The image changed and Iolanda clapped her hands.
‘You’ve got it!’ she exclaimed. ‘How the hell do you do that?’
‘Do what?’
‘Look at something and just know what has to be done to fix it?’
‘I don’t always—’
‘You do,’ Iolanda interrupted. ‘Every bloody time. You’re a jewellery genius.’
‘I’m not really.’ Bey was uncomfortable with her colleague’s effusive praise. ‘Honestly, I’m not. I get things wrong as often as I get them right.’
‘But you get them right more often than anyone,’ proclaimed Iolanda as she saved the image in front of her. ‘In a million years I’ll never be as good as you.’
‘Would you stop it?’ demanded Bey. ‘You’ve probably put a hex on me now and I’ll never be able to do a decent drawing again.’
Iolanda laughed and Bey returned to her own computer. She opened a page of sketches that she’d previously saved and gazed at them. They were part of a new design she’d been thinking of for their next collection, but she knew she wasn’t ready to show them to Clara yet. She glanced towards the head designer’s office. The door, normally open, was shut; Clara had been in a meeting with Gerritt for the past half-hour. Bey wondered what they were talking about – the heavy doors and thick carpets effectively muffled any conversation.
Then the outer door to their own office op
ened and Will Murdoch walked in.
‘Will!’ Iolanda jumped up from her seat and flung her arms around him. ‘Welcome back! How were your travels?’
‘Not bad at all,’ he said, kissing her on the cheek. ‘And how have you all been keeping? Working on anything nice?’
‘Do we ever work on anything that isn’t?’ asked Iolanda. ‘A necklace for Raisa Semenova.’
‘The demanding Raisa.’ Will smiled. ‘I’m sure it’ll be gorgeous.’
‘Of course it will,’ said Iolanda. ‘Bey has sprinkled some of her magic dust over it.’
‘As always.’ Will turned to Bey, who’d remained sitting at her desk. ‘So what do you think of these?’ He opened the leather briefcase he’d been carrying, took out a brifka and spilled its contents onto a sheet of paper on the desk in front of her.
‘Oh. My. God,’ breathed Bey.
The three cushion-cut diamonds in front of her were a light pink. They were almost identical in size and were dazzlingly beautiful.
‘Two carats each,’ said Will. ‘They’re amazing, aren’t they?’
‘And exactly what the Contessa asked for.’
‘Almost exactly.’ Will grinned.
Bey picked one up and held it between her fingers, moving it so that it caught the light.
‘I’m speechless,’ she said after a long time when she had, indeed, been unable to say anything. ‘It’s so perfect.’
‘I’m glad you think so,’ said Will. ‘Hopefully Clara will too.’
‘How can she not?’ asked Bey. She glanced at the closed office door. ‘She’s in a meeting with Gerritt at the moment, but I’m sure both of them will want to see these.’
‘I emailed them a photo last night,’ said Will. ‘I think she was pleased. So was he.’
‘They should go down on their knees thanking God for the day you became their buyer,’ said Bey. ‘Honestly, Will, these are utterly divine.’
He laughed. ‘You know how to pander to my ego,’ he said.
‘I know great stones when I see them.’ Bey exhaled slowly. ‘I wonder how she’ll use them for the Contessa’s piece?’
What Happened That Night: The page-turning holiday read by the No. 1 bestselling author Page 25
