"Yes, Darling, but you have experienced light-headedness and you've fainted. They want to be thorough. Now keep still. The doctor said you shouldn't move your head for twenty-four hours."
"Yeah, like that's going to be possible."
"Violet, just don't jostle your cabeza, okay?"
She closed her eyes. She'd had a close call when Doctor Halleck almost revealed her real name. Luckily, he didn't remember her Christian name, and while he scanned her chart to refresh his memory, she'd said, "Violet. Call me Violet. And it's good to see you again, too, Doctor." Then she reached out to shake his hand, and although the physician appeared puzzled, he hadn't said anything or questioned her further.
"Violet, did you hear me?"
"Yes, Both. I'll hold still as best I can."
She'd taken to calling him Both, short for his middle name, Bothwell.
"Thank you, Darling. I hate to bring this up, and I'd be terribly disappointed, but I want you to know you can skip the gala next week if you don't feel up to it."
"Are you trying to ditch me, Both?"
"Not at all, Violet. I want you by my side that night more than anything, but your health comes first."
She shifted her eyes to examine his face and see if he was sincere. She didn't dare turn her head to confront him. After yesterday's encounter with her two-timing boss, she felt short on trust and long on suspicion where men were concerned.
She watched as Barry turned his head in her direction and smiled. Katrina only saw honest affection and concern on his face.
"Wild horses couldn't keep me away, Both. Besides, the doctor said I should feel better by tomorrow."
"That's my girl! No, stop, don't move your head!" he commanded.
* * * * *
"Kiki, where is Katrina?" Robert demanded in a stern tone, stepping inside Kate's office.
The receptionist, surprised by his sneak attack, shot bolt upright. She'd been bent over the credenza, searching for a file Chuck Manning needed, with her back to the door. For some reason, her boss exhibited distaste whenever he dealt with her. Since the Spring Fling, she remained out of favor. The Hawaiian had decided to ignore her boss's negativity and tried not to let it bother her. Reviews were scheduled soon, and she'd deal with it then, if she must.
"Uh, I'm not sure where Miss Crimshaw is," the receptionist replied. "I'm just getting a file for Chuck and—"
"Her light has been on all day," Robert interrupted, his lips pressed into a thin, hard line. His expression scared her. He continued, "But every time I come by, she's nowhere to be seen. I need to speak with her," he said, his voice cold and insisting.
Kiki imagined there was something odd about the way her boss said need, but her thoughts moved on before she processed the idea. The receptionist figured she'd better give the man some kind of answer, since he blocked her escape with his large frame and didn't appear to be going anywhere soon.
"Uh, I believe she called in sick. Maybe Harriet knows more."
Robert turned on his heels and marched towards Human Resources. Kiki breathed a sigh of relief. What was that guy's problem? Since the dinner dance, she'd seen the moody side of him that Katrina often mentioned. The receptionist missed William Dodd, her benevolent, indulgent old boss.
* * * * *
Barry eased his Jaguar sedan to a stop outside Katrina's apartment. The girl didn't open her eyes, and he assumed she'd fallen asleep after her ordeal. Content to gaze at her lovely features, he didn't wake her or notice the SUV that parked on his tail. A minute went by before she stirred.
"Ready to go in, Darling?" he asked, flashing The Grin.
"Yes, Both."
"All right! Hold still while I come round."
Barry jumped from the car and ran around its front to open her door, gently lifting her from the car. On the sidewalk, he paused to embrace her, then planted a soft kiss on her lips, startling the auditor.
"You must know I'm crazy for you, Violet. Should I stick around tonight to be sure you behave?"
She started to laugh, but Barry pressed a finger to her lips and said, "No jostling your head!"
The director placed an arm around her waist and walked her toward the apartment, then escorted her inside. She never saw the black Range Rover or Robert LaSalla seething in its driver's seat, nor did she hear the squealing tires when he peeled out a minute later.
Barry prepared dinner, shared the meal of soup and sour dough bread, then got Katrina settled for the night. She thought it best to sleep propped up on the couch, thus avoiding moving her head about too much. Barry tucked her in, left a glass of water on the end table, and said good night.
The next morning, she still felt pretty terrible, so she left a message with Harriet Reynolds stating she wouldn't be in. She drifted back to sleep and didn't wake until one in the afternoon. Hungry, she moved to the kitchen, taking care to keep her head steady. Somehow, Barry had stocked her fridge with food from a nearby deli. She pulled several slices of cheese and turkey breast from the refrigerator and returned to the sofa. Munching on her cold cuts, she remembered the Daud situation. She decided to check her voicemails from the office.
Harriet Reynolds had called regarding reviews. She'd scheduled Katrina's for next Wednesday afternoon. She mentioned that she'd sent an email with an attached form to be completed and brought to the review. Kate saved the message and continued.
Next, she heard Mike's voice. Their attempts to calm the people at Daud met with success! The Malaysian company planned to hire a firm to perform a due diligence review on Morris Greir, Inc. Once completed, the deal would be finalized.
She forwarded Mike's message to Robert, adding her own excited comments and asking him if he'd pass the news to Greir. Then, she fell back asleep.
Chapter 13
-A Miracle Worker & the Shoe Fairy-
On Saturday, Katrina did something she never thought she'd do: drop more money in Irina's shop. With the Romanov Gala the following week, she needed an appropriate dress and didn't know where else to turn. The Russian hit the mark for the Spring Fling, and Kate figured she could do it again. Remembering the establishment's dress code, she donned a floral dress and drove towards Beverly Hills.
Outside, she steeled herself for the coming experience—and the price tag. Once inside, Irina asked for Kiki.
"I didn’t think I needed to bring her," Kate replied.
"It vud be good idea," Irina said with her strong accent, glancing up and down at her with a discerning eye.
"I trust your judgment, Irina. I won't need a second opinion." She hoped buttering up the shop owner might ease her critical attitude.
"Da. I understand. Now, what do you need dress for?"
She explained the event in detail, encouraged by Irina's nods. The Russian asked for a description of the jewels and other items in the exhibit.
"So. Yellow parure and devant de corsage are main attraction?"
"Da, I mean, yes," Kate replied. She added, "The kokoshnik, too."
"Hmm," Irina hummed with a faraway look in her eyes.
Katrina waited, afraid to disturb the older woman. Irina walked to the back of the shop and disappeared down the hall that led to the dressing room. She reappeared a minute later, cradling an ornate gold frame against her chest.
"My grandmamma," the Russian said, turning the frame to show her customer.
Kate stared at a beautiful young girl with large, dark eyes and mounds of dark hair, tucked behind a kokoshnik. The photo was black and white, but she guessed the headpiece consisted of yellow gold and sapphires.
"She's lovely," Katrina said, then searched Irina's face for any similarities.
"Da. She fled with nothing to Paris and learned to make dresses. I want tickets to show."
"Huh? What show?" Kate asked.
"Romanov jewels show."
"Oh, yes. I can get you those. Not to the opening gala, but any other time."
"Good," Irina said, placing the portrait inside a rococo French desk and clicking i
ts slanted lid shut.
"How many tickets would you like?" she asked.
"Just one, for a Monday. The shop closes Mondays."
A wave of sadness passed over her as she thought about the solitary Russian and her grandmother who left all she knew behind to escape the revolution. Did this lady have no one to share the exhibit with? She resolved to send her two tickets and arrange for Barry to escort her through the museum.
"So, do you have anything to recommend?" Katrina asked.
She felt a great deal of anxiety regarding the opening. For the life of her, she didn't know what kind of dress to wear. She wanted to impress the museum's patrons but not compete with the jewels. She hoped Barry would be proud of her and that others would appreciate her ideas for the displays.
"Sit and wait," Irina commanded before disappearing again.
Fifteen minutes passed before she heard the Russian calling for her from the back hall. The auditor walked to Irina, nervous but excited to see what she'd found.
Inside the dressing room hung another beautiful gown. She couldn't tell what it was made of, but the fabric looked otherworldly. Katrina slipped her dress off while Irina removed the silver costume from its hanger. As the material moved, it reflected just a hint of ice blue.
"Nineteen fifties Dior," Irina said matter-of-factly.
Another Dior meant another small fortune, but once Kate saw herself in the oval mirror, she didn't care. Irina fastened the long stream of cloth-covered buttons that ran up the back of the dress while Katrina admired her reflection.
The platinum, medium-weight fabric with the icy blue undertone fit snugly against her curves. A deep boat neckline showed off her clavicle bones and barely covered the ends of her shoulders. A chain of lacy flowers embroidered in matching thread danced across her chest, then reappeared at the hemline, which hit at the knee. The bodice fanned just below the waist into a bell-shaped skirt, complete with fabric folds and pockets. Short cap sleeves showed off her delicate arms.
Irina fluffed her hair and pronounced, "Da!" before giving her commands.
"No jewelry, hair down, curled to bounce across here." The Russian trailed a finger across her shoulder. "Simple lips, drama eyes. No more!"
She heard every word, but her mind was far away. In the mirror, she could see herself in Barry's arms, dancing the night away. She felt warm and secure. He held her tighter with each step until she could no longer breathe and flames of passion licked at her body. Kate looked up to tell him to stop as his features began to move, melt, and change. His face morphed into that of Robert LaSalla, and she thought she might faint.
"Did you hear me? Shoes must be two inch heel, silver pump!" Irina ordered, startling Katrina from her vision. Is that mirror magic, or are my daydreams getting away from me?
Kate pushed her hands against her bright red cheeks, squishing her face. Those strange thoughts had brought a blush to her face. Irina studied her features.
"Sit!" the store owner commanded, pointing to a gold Louis XVI, brocade-covered chair.
She complied, relieved to be off her feet. Perhaps the dress was too tight.
"You are pretty girl, a bit plain." Irina fluttered her hand before continuing, "Not statuesque or regal, but still attractive. Your little chin is too sharp and your nose, your nose is too fine. You are sickly, but your large eyes distract from imperfections. This gown, it helps, da?"
Only Irina could insult a customer like that and still make a sale. Katrina managed a nod. She paid the Russian with her credit card and asked if the lady knew where she could find appropriate shoes. Smiling, the store owner mentioned a store in West Los Angeles and wrote the address on a card for her.
After lunch at home, Kate found the cobbler recommended by Irina. Off Robertson Boulevard, in a tiny, hole-in-the-wall establishment, squeezed between two shabby, unused retail spaces, Zabel's Shoe Repairs was easy to miss. Tinted so dark, the small glass storefront didn't allow passersby to see inside. Katrina hesitated before pushing the door open. A brass bell somewhere over her head clanged to announce her entry.
Coming off the street, she had to adjust her eyes to the dim interior. The place looked straight out of nineteenth-century Europe, complete with a musty smell. She wondered how often customers intruded here. Working her way to the back, she noticed a threadbare Abussan rug. Its edges just missed concealing the cement floor. Shelves stacked with old shoes lined the walls, while a padded bench and footstool sat in the center of the small store. A counter in back stood in front of a wall covered with wooden cubbyholes. A doorway to the side of the counter led to a back workroom. A beam of sunlight from a window to the rear of the shop revealed dust particles floating like stars in the Milky Way.
"Hello? Anyone here?" she called.
"Da," came a voice from the workroom.
A moment later, a tall, elderly man with perfect posture emerged. He moved like a much younger man, but his gray hair and wrinkles gave away his age. He smiled at her but said nothing.
"Irina sent me," Kate managed to stammer.
"Da," the man said, nodding as if he already knew that.
"She thought you might have a pair of shoes for me."
"Da," he repeated, moving behind the counter.
The man leaned over and produced a white drawstring bag. Impossibly spotless in a dirty place like this, the white satin of the shoe bag glowed in the dim light. It was then that she took note of the apron covering the man's chest, waist, and hips. Dark smudges covered the coarse material, and she wondered how he kept from soiling the pale sack. He must have washed his hands before appearing. The cobbler slid the container open with great care and withdrew one delicate shoe, then the other.
Katrina's mouth fell open. The shoes matched her dress perfectly. How was this possible? She hadn't even described her gown to the man. She locked eyes with the tradesman. His brown eyes twinkled with pleasure at her surprised expression, and his smile contracted the skin around them into countless laugh lines.
"They're perfect. I'll take them," she said without asking the price. More sticker shock.
When she got home, she called Kiki and described her experience.
"Oh, I know who that was," the receptionist said.
"Who, the shoe fairy?" she joked.
"Almost. He makes shoes for the movies. Costume designers hire him. He doesn't have a regular clientele other than them. When Irina gets a dress that needs a special shoe, she lets him know, and he crafts a pair then waits until the customer gets sent over."
"That explains it and the price tag. I didn't set out to buy a pair of custom shoes today. Hey, how does he know what size to make?"
"I don’t know. I guess you just got lucky, Girl. Hey, are you ready for reviews next week?"
"Yep. With this Daud deal, I should be getting a nice little raise and a great review. When is yours? Mine is Wednesday afternoon."
"I go into the lion's den on Thursday," Kiki said with a sigh.
"Oh, you'll be fine. You do a great job."
"We'll see. I'm prepared to fight it out if I have to," the receptionist said.
"I'm going to take Thursday off so I can sleep late and then help Barry at the Museum, before the guests arrive."
"Are you getting nervous, Kate?"
"Getting? I've been nervous since this whole thing started!" Katrina exclaimed.
She laughed and said, "There's no need. You got this, Girl! Hey, when do those test results come back?"
The receptionist didn't want to bring the subject up, but couldn't help herself. She worried about her friend.
"The doctor called me yesterday. The CAT scan didn't show anything. He's still waiting on some of the inner ear results. He said there was the possibility of a tumor."
"What?" Kiki exclaimed in a shrill tone.
"It's not likely, but since he told me that, I have had a hard time getting it off my mind."
Her friend, aware of what killed Kate's mom, was quick to offer reassurances.
"Try n
ot to worry, Honey. I’m sure you'll get good news next week. Just focus on your big night and how it's going to change your life. I'll pop over to see your newest Dior tomorrow."
"Yeah, come on by. I think I'm going to church, so stop in later. I'm going to pray that God forgives you for getting me to drain my bank account on designer gowns!"
"Ha! If He doesn't mind you spending on all that jewelry, I don't think He'll hold the dresses against me," the Hawaiian teased.
Chapter 14
-Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend-
After a boring week in the office, Wednesday's arrival meant that the gala drew close. Katrina had stayed calm so far, which she credited to her attending a service on Sunday. The minister's sermon spoke right to her heart, and she repeated his theme Scripture throughout the day, Cast all your cares upon Him, for He cares for you, from I Peter 5:7. As a kid, her family attended church every Sunday as a unit. After her mother died, they'd gradually stopped going. The last few years, she went to a non-denominational house of worship once in a blue moon. All that talk of Robert's dad being a man of faith stuck with her, and she decided she should start attending again.
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