She zipped a text off to Kiki, asking her to stop by as soon as she arrived. Then, she planned her pitch to Morris Greir, Dodd and Company's client. She realized she'd have to inform Robert about this, but wanted to wait until everything was in place. The last person she wanted to deal with was that troglodyte.
She'd typed the outline of her proposal by the time her receptionist friend popped by.
"Kiki, come in and close the door. I need your expertise."
"What's up? Need advice on what to wear to the Spring Fling?"
"Well, that too. I don’t have a thing to wear."
"No prob. Why don't we go shopping on Saturday?"
"That would be great, Kiki, but I've got something more important to discuss."
"More important than the Spring Fling where I finally get to meet your brother? Not possible." The petite Hawaiian shook her head in an exaggerated fashion.
"Listen, I'm trying to put a deal together with the help of Mike Johnson—"
"Oh, how is Mike?"
Katrina shook her hand in front of Kiki.
"Stay focused, please. We're putting together an investor, Morris Greir, with a Malaysian man who owns a plastic fabrication company called Daud Industrial. With your background in Asian studies, can you tell me what I need to know about entertaining these guys? They're probably going to meet here, at Dodd and Company, early next week."
"Well, I know that Malaysians are usually Muslims. So no alcohol, or pork, or in your face business women. We should all dress very conservatively, if we show ourselves at all. Hey, isn't it weird that Daud and Dodd are almost the same word?"
"Yeah, I noticed that too—coincidence, I guess. Thanks, Kiki. If you think of anything else, please let me know."
"Sure. Hey, back to the Fling. I'm meeting with the DJs on Monday. What kind of music does James prefer?"
"All '80s all the time, Sister," Katrina replied with a laugh.
"Good to know," the receptionist said, flashing a devious smile. "Hey, you're looking mighty fine today. Anything special going on?" she added.
"A meeting over at the Heller with the artist who's doing the mock-ups of the displays I designed. I'm so excited."
After Kiki left, Katrina practiced the speech she wanted to give to Mr. Greir. She'd met him once or twice, but he hadn't been at Mr. Dodd's going away party. She polished her talk for over an hour until she felt confident. Then she placed the call.
A secretary put her through to the head honcho, Morris Greir, whose company bore his name.
"Hello, Katrina. How are you? That due diligence just about finished?"
"Yes, Mr. Greir, it is. That's why I'm calling. It seems our worries were unwarranted. That investment vehicle is fine. But, some additional information about the company issuing those securities has come to light, and I thought you'd like to know what we've uncovered."
"I certainly would," he replied.
She described in detail all she'd learned from Mike, including the possibility of a meeting with the owners of Daud Industrial. Greir seemed impressed and excited about the idea. He wanted to come in and discuss it in more detail this week, and they agreed upon Friday afternoon.
That settled, she prepared to switch modes and leave for the Heller when her cell phone rang.
"Hallo, Violet? It's Barry."
"Yes, Barry. Good to hear your voice." She hoped he didn't call to cancel their meeting.
"It's beastly out, and I've decided to send a car for you. No sense in you driving through the worst of this storm. I need you in one piece."
She looked out her window, and sure enough, the rain had intensified.
"Thank you, Barry. I really appreciate that."
"Brilliant. Give me your address, and I'll send him right over."
The auditor hesitated a moment. She didn’t want the director of Special Collections and Exhibits to know she was a bean counter. Yet, her building was large and housed many different businesses. She decided to go for it and confessed her location.
"Keep an eye out for him, a big, black limousine with a custom plate that says, Heller."
She grabbed her coat and headed for the lobby, beaming. At least someone valued her.
Once downstairs, Katrina chatted with Jose, the building's head of security, while keeping an eye out for the limo. He often hung around the front desk. Friendly, the large man was always eager to chat about his family. He had two daughters in college and a son in high school, who hoped for a football scholarship one day. She confided that a car was due any minute to pick her up.
To her chagrin, Robert LaSalla appeared, as if from nowhere, and joined their happy conversation. His criticism from earlier still stung, and Kate could hardly look at the man. In reality, he said very little, but he did lean against the security counter next to her, making her feel uncomfortable.
"There's your ride, Miss Crimshaw," Jose announced.
She jerked her head in time to see a long, stretch limousine ease to a stop. A handsome driver carrying an umbrella stepped from the car and approached the building's revolving glass doors.
"Thanks, Jose!" she said, happy to make her escape.
She pulled on her coat as she dashed for the exit. The driver spotted her, meeting her as soon as she made it outside, and covered her with the large black umbrella.
"Who sent the stretch?" Robert asked, staring after his employee as the chauffeur saw her safely inside the vehicle.
Jose shrugged.
"I don't know, but he's one lucky man. Miss Katrina is one in a million," the head of security replied.
"Don't I know it," LaSalla mumbled as he walked towards the elevators.
* * * * *
Once at the museum, Kate found Barry Bronson waiting for her by the entrance.
"Ah, thank goodness you're here." Barry shook her hand, pulling her into a hug. "I became worried you'd cancel," he added.
"Funny, Barry. I worried about the same thing from your end!"
"Pshaw, Violet. I know a good thing when I see it. Come on, let me take your coat. The weather's keeping everyone away, so the café is deserted. We'll meet our artist friend there, over lunch," Barry said as he removed her rain gear and handed it to a museum worker.
The director placed his hand at the small of Katrina's back and guided her towards the café. She couldn't help but smile. His touch felt nice. Not the hot, scorching stroke of Robert LaSalla that left burns and scars, but a pleasant, sweet contact.
Barry Bronson ordered lunch again for Kate, this time choosing salmon on pea puree in lemon broth. He had a sirloin, and they shared their meals for the second time. The bearded artist had a club sandwich, frites, and a glass of wine. He showed his drawings to the director who took a quick look, then passed them to Katrina.
"What do you think, Violet?" Barry asked after she'd had time to scrutinize the renderings.
"I think they're close. You've done a fine job, Darrel.
"Violet, tell us what changes you'd make."
She looked from the director to the artist, uncomfortable criticizing another's creative work.
"Please go on," Darrel said. "I'd like to get it perfect, and I can't do that without your input."
She breathed a sigh of relief. Everyone she'd met at the Heller seemed so refined, so polite and kind. Not a soul exhibited the rough behavior of her new boss.
"Well, Darrel, I love the daisies you've placed around the jewelry stand, but I'd like to see the entire pillar surrounded in blooms, not just the velvet display, almost as if it were a fountain bubbling up, with the light landing on the frothy jewels on top. Also, I want the plants' roots visible, here between the soil and glass. Does that give you a picture of what I'm after?" she asked with hesitation.
"Yes, it does. Now what about the second set, Ms. Sparks?"
Katrina closed her eyes in order to recapture her initial vision and heard Barry chuckle.
"Not to worry, Darrel," the director whispered. "This is how Violet works."
A
fter several minutes, she opened her eyes, ready to share her ideas.
"I believe the ice should contain cracks, with pieces splintering off near the bottom. It should seem like the jewels are of great weight, and that the ice can barely hold them up. Don't you think?" she asked, turning to Barry.
"I do think, Violet. Now, what about the colors?"
"Yes, I chose the colors from photos of actual bergs, off the coast of Chile," Darrel announced, proud of his work.
"I think the colors are fine, as long as they don't clash with any of the diamonds. I'm a little concerned with the rust, even though it does exist in nature."
"I agree," Barry said. "Let's scrap the rust, Darrel," he added.
The artist nodded, then returned his focus to his plate. He left soon thereafter, and promised to have revised copies emailed to Violet in a few days. Barry stressed the time crunch the museum struggled under.
"Do you think he's up to the challenge, Violet?" the director asked after the artist departed.
"Yes, Barry. I think so. He did well so far, hearing everything second hand."
"True. I had to hire him. He's the grand-nephew of one of our big patrons," Barry confided in a conspiratorial tone, adding a wink.
"Well, even nephews need work," she said, giggling.
"Let's have dessert, Violet. I feel like celebrating!"
So did Katrina. They shared a chocolate soufflé and a bowl of fresh berries in Grand Marnier with crème anglaise while enjoying cups of piping hot, delicious coffee. The auditor, stuffed from lunch, feared her dress would be extra tight now.
"Is that a Knoll and Pregizer around your neck or Cartier?" Barry asked, pointing with his fork towards her necklace.
"It's KP. Do you like it?"
"It's brilliant. You do know it's a copy of one Cartier made for the Duchess of Windsor, don’t you? It's quite valuable."
"No. I always suspected it might be a replica of an important piece, but never spent the time to run it down."
"Where did you find it?" the director asked.
"A yard sale in Santa Monica! I paid fifty bucks, the asking price, and felt blessed to find it."
"You've a fine eye, Violet. It's worth over a thousand dollars in today's market."
"That's good to know."
"Would you be interested in helping me out on my next project? I'm in the planning stage for a late spring exhibit next year, and I'd love to get your take on what I should go after."
"I'd like that, Barry."
The two made their way up to the director's office and spent another hour going over his proposed show. Their banter proved carefree and fun, and her spirits raised substantially.
"You are quite the contagious little bug, Violet. Did you know that?" Barry said as he walked her to the waiting limo.
"Hmm, I'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing."
"It's a great thing. If I send the car for you, can we do lunch again next week?"
"I'd love to! Can I bring by a few pieces from my collection for you to look over? I'd like to see if you could pin—no pun intended—down the makers of a few items."
"Ha! Of course, Violet. I've always got a loupe handy."
It no longer rained, but the wind had kicked up even worse than in the morning. She made a mad dash for the car as the chauffeur held the door open. She could sure get used to having a driver.
Back on the fifteenth floor, Kiki gave her an odd look as she entered the office, prompting Kate to check her watch. Yikes! Two fifteen. It had been a long lunch. Katrina hurried to her office and had just sat down when a tap on her door jamb caught her attention.
Robert loomed tall in front of her. He stared at her in a peculiar fashion but said nothing, as now seemed his practice. She waited for him to chastise her for taking an extended break. For the first time since she'd known him, LaSalla seemed unsure of himself.
Katrina felt certain she could handle the brute now. Her meeting at the museum boosted her confidence. Unaware that her absent-minded twisting of one of the pearls in her necklace gave away her nerves, she otherwise presented a self-assured front.
"Can I help you with something?" she said in a cool tone. She had not forgotten the treatment he'd dished out at her this morning, nor the contrast between his behavior and that of Barry Bronson.
Another moment passed before Robert said, "Made any progress on the assignment I gave you?"
"As a matter of fact, I have. I planned to discuss it with you this afternoon. I took the liberty of calling Morris Greir this morning. Daud Industrial, the company issuing that odd security, is about to make a killing in China. Greir agrees he should move forward with buying the firm holding the investment as soon as possible. The unique thing is, Daud is considering floating another investment vehicle, and Morris could get in on it if he acts fast. He wants to come by Friday afternoon to discuss a possible meeting with the head of Daud."
"Is he planning to fly to Malaysia?" he asked, incredulous.
"That's the great thing. We have the chance to facilitate the meeting here. The Malaysians will be in LA early next week, and one of my connections has an in with them. I should know before Friday if it's going to fly."
"Good work," he said, surprise reflected in his voice and face.
"I thought so," she replied.
He got up to leave. Katrina watched him as he paused in her doorway and turned slowly. She shifted her eyes to her computer screen and pretended to read an email.
"Kate," he said and paused, waiting to make eye contact.
She tapped a few keys and took her time giving him her undivided attention.
"Yes?" she said at last, turning her gaze upon him.
Here comes the apology.
"Your hair is a little tousled." Robert pointed to his own head and continued, "You may want to do something about that when you get the chance."
She grabbed for the mirror in her purse as soon as he left. Sure enough, the wind had wreaked havoc with her hair.
Chapter 8
-Finding the Perfect One-
"I don't have a stitch to wear next weekend!" Katrina yelled from her closet to the kitchen, where Kiki waited for her friend to model an outfit.
She ambled into the kitchen wearing what Kiki thought a ghastly ensemble. The receptionist frowned and shook her head.
"That's because you spend all your money on costume jewelry instead of holding some back for clothing. That could work in your favor if you ever let a man in this apartment and decided to show off your collection for him," the receptionist said with a naughty grin.
"You're terrible, Kiki!"
"Well, it's the truth."
"Actually, I did let a man in here recently," she said in a soft tone, averting her gaze.
"You did not! Who was it?"
"Never mind. It was nothing. I shouldn't have said anything."
"Come on, spill it, Girl," her friend insisted, determined to hear the whole story.
"If you must know, Robert LaSalla drove me home after William's party and insisted on coming in for a coffee. He finished off my saltines and chocolate too."
She thought Kiki's lovely eyes were going to fall right out of her head.
"And?"
"And nothing. He insulted me a few times and left. The man is insufferable."
Kiki looked Katrina up and down.
"Come on. Let's get out of here and find you something sexy for the Spring Fling!"
The girls hit the mall first, but little tickled Katrina's fancy. If she was going to invest money in a formal gown, it had to grab her.
A dress covered in red rhinestones caught her eye in a department store.
"Kiki, take a look at this. It's not my size, though."
Her friend examined the sleeveless dress with a boat neckline and a deep scoop in the back. She looked at the tag.
"You can get into this. Come on, I'll help."
Kiki grabbed the dress and Katrina's hand, dragging her into the fitting room. The girls found a l
arge stall, and Kate peeled off her jeans and sweater, then pulled on the gown. She had trouble with the zipper.
"I can't get it to zip," she said, frustrated.
"Turn around. We'll get you into that dress yet."
Katrina followed her friend's orders. She became worried when her accomplice kicked off her shoes and rubbed her hands together with vigor.
"Now just relax," Kiki said.
Then, in one swift move, she pushed her foot into Katrina's middle back, grabbed the troublesome zipper, and whooshed the dress closed, removing her tiny bare foot just in the nick of time.
"There!"
Stunned, she watched the maneuver from one of the many mirrors in the dressing room. It happened so fast, she didn't have time to protest. The fit was tight, but the rhinestones provided good camouflage.
"Hmm, I don't know, Kiki. It's a bit flashy for me, don't you think?"
"If you've got it, flaunt it, I always say."
"Plus, I don't think James would approve," she added, ignoring her friend's comment.
Kiki lifted an eyebrow.
"Conservative, is he?" the receptionist asked.
"When it comes to me, he is. Let's keep looking."
A Solitary Romance: Book 1 in the Only Love Series Page 8
