Gilded Secrets

“Excuse me?”

“If there’s been talk, I want to know about it,” he told her flatly. “You must have heard about the article in the paper.”

Her eyes shifted away from him for a second before returning to meet his stare. “The phone’s been ringing for the last half hour with people wanting to talk to you.”

“Perfect,” he muttered. “Who?”

“I’ve got a stack of messages on my desk, but mainly, it’s the other board members and then there were a couple of reporters. Also, a cable business network wants an interview.”

He fell back against the sofa cushion and shook his head again. “This is going to get much worse before it’s over.” He had to talk to Ann. Figure out what was going on and the best way to mount a defense. His gaze speared into Charlie’s.

“I know people are talking about this here in the company. What have you heard?”

She frowned at him. “I don’t listen to gossip.”

“Ordinarily, a good thing. Right now, I need to know what people in the building are saying.”

She took a long, slow breath and looked as if she were having an internal argument with herself on whether or not to answer him. Briefly, Vance considered making that request an order, but discounted that notion. He didn’t want to make her defensive and careful about what she said. He needed as much information as he could get.

She bit into her bottom lip and finally blurted out, “People are worried. They’re afraid Waverly’s will be shut down, that they’re going to lose their jobs. Frankly, I’m a little worried, too. The article mentioned possible collusion—”

“Yeah, I know it did,” he muttered.

“What does Ms. Richardson say?”

Vance scowled. “I haven’t spoken to her about it yet. I got a tip about the article coming out today, but not in time to do anything about it. I expect it will be a topic of conversation during the board meeting, though.”

“What do you think is going on?” she asked and he realized that by asking her opinion on what was happening in Waverly’s, he’d opened a door between them.

A week ago, she would have been too skittish, too nervous to ask him that. Now, though, things had apparently changed. Oddly, he didn’t mind. She was a good listener and it was nice to be able to talk this out with someone who knew what was going on, yet didn’t have a major stake in the outcome.

“I don’t know,” he admitted and that cost him. Vance didn’t like not having the answers. He wasn’t accustomed to being in the dark. He preferred being on top of any given situation. Knowing the answers before the questions were asked. In this case, though, all he had to go on were his gut instincts. “I like Ann. She’s always struck me as a sensible, honest woman. She’s been good for Waverly’s …”

“But?”

One corner of his mouth lifted. Not just a good listener, but insightful, too, hearing the hesitation in his voice.

“But the truth is, I don’t know her very well.” He leaned back against the couch. “No one here does. She does her job, but keeps to herself.”

“There’s a lot of that going around,” she murmured.

Cocking his head, he asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She stiffened. “Sorry. I didn’t mean—I only meant that you—Well, you’re pretty much a loner, too, and … Oh, just fire me and get it over with.”

For the first time in longer than he cared to admit, Vance laughed. He saw the surprise on her face and knew it was echoed on his own features. For a week, he’d been regretting hiring Charlotte Potter. Right at that moment, he couldn’t remember why. She was smart, competent and she made him laugh.

If only she didn’t smell so good.

“As I said,” he told her, “I’m not going to fire you.”

Still, irritated by his own thoughts, by the flicker of something hot bristling inside him, Vance shut it all down. He pushed up from the couch and purposely made his voice brisk and businesslike. Back on firm footing, boss to assistant. “If you do hear anything, I want you to tell me immediately.”

Charlie slowly rose to her feet and lifted her chin in a defiant tilt. “I won’t spy on my friends.”

She went up another notch in his estimation. One thing Vance could admire was loyalty. “I’m not asking you to spy,” he pointed out. “Just to listen.”

“I can do that.”

“Good.” He opened the closet door, pulled out his suit coat and slipped it on. “I’m leaving for the board meeting now.” He checked the gold watch on his left wrist. He’d be late if he didn’t leave right away, and Vance Waverly was never late for anything.

“I should be back by four—have those condition reports on the Ming vases ready for me when I get back.”

“Yes, sir.”

He heard her sharp reply, and for a second, regretted the fact that she was doing much as he was—shifting back into business mode. Then the regret dropped away. Better this way. Easier. And far more logical. He didn’t look back as he stalked from his office, headed for the boardroom and the meeting that would no doubt shake up a few things at Waverly’s.

Charlie let out a breath she hadn’t even been aware she was holding. For a few brief moments, she and Vance had actually been talking like … friends. She’d had a chance at a tiny peek at the man behind the cool facade that usually shrouded him.

And that one peek had completely intrigued her and made her want more. So not a good thing, Charlie told herself firmly. Wanting more with Vance Waverly made as much sense as wanting to spend the afternoon in Paris. And had as much chance of happening.

Nope. He was boss. She was assistant. And never the twain would meet or mingle or anything else for that matter. Frowning to herself, Charlie walked back to her desk. She had been completely off men for more than two years. Hadn’t been attracted to one. Hadn’t been so much as tempted by the thought of romance. Ever since she had made the giant mistake of trusting the wrong man.

But now, for the first time in way too long, she had felt that little tingle of … appreciation? Interest?

“And just like before,” she muttered in disgust, “you picked exactly the wrong man.” Wrong for different reasons, of course, but still …

No, she wouldn’t jeopardize her job, her newfound security, for a passing flirtation. No good could come of that. So Charlie reined in her hormones and then tied them down nice and tight. She didn’t need to be indulging in any fantasies about her boss, for heaven’s sake. What she needed to be doing was impressing the hell out of him—as she’d spent the past week doing—so she could keep this job.

Every step up the ladder was a good one. Charlie had plans. She wouldn’t always be an assistant. She was going to keep learning the business, eventually get her master’s in art history and then get a job as curator or an art specialist there at the house. Just as Ann Richardson, their CEO, had done when she was starting out. The higher Charlie climbed the proverbial ladder, the better the life she could provide for herself and her son.

Jake was what mattered, she reminded herself sternly. Her baby boy was counting on her and she wasn’t going to let him down.

With that thought firmly in mind, Charlie dismissed all her earlier notions about Vance Waverly and got back to work. Picking up a file folder from the edge of her desk, she headed for the jewelry salesroom on the second floor. She had the provenances for several pieces to deliver.

Plush carpet muffled her steps as she walked down the long halls toward the elevator. Throughout the floor, she heard typing and quiet phone conversations. It was a rarified atmosphere up on the seventh floor. Here was where the officers of Waverly’s worked, made the decisions that kept the auction house one of the top of its kind in the world. And here she would make her mark, she told herself as she stepped into the elevator and punched the button for the second floor.

The doors slid shut on a whisper and the subtle strains of classical music sighed out around her. She caught her reflection in the polished brass doors and smiled. When the doors opened again, she walked along gleaming wood floors, listening idly to the click of her own heels tapping out a fast beat.

The first two floors of the venerable old building were devoted to the salesrooms. Each of them was different. Each of them beautiful in its own way.

Polished oak floorboards stretched for what seemed like miles. Paintings and sculptures lined the walls and huge vases filled with fresh flowers created a subtle scent that permeated the air.

The hush of this floor was almost churchlike, and why not? Here was where the treasures of the world came to be admired, and then sold to live again with someone new. Charlie walked to the far room and stepped through the wide, double doorway.

“Charlie!” A male voice called her name and she turned.

Justin Dawes was walking toward her. Justin was the head of the precious-gem department at Waverly’s. About forty, he was balding, far too thin and his kind blue eyes were always narrowed in a squint. He had told her once it was the curse of his profession. Too many hours looking through jeweler’s loupes at the stones he loved so much.

Today Justin looked a little harried and less than his urbane self. His tie was loosened and the sleeves of his white dress shirt were rolled up to the elbow. His suit coat had been abandoned and thin wisps of brown hair stood straight up at the crown of his head.

“You have the provenances?”

“Right here,” she said and handed over the file.

“Good. That’s great.” He flipped through them, then shot her a look. “They’ve been verified?”

“Over and over again,” she said, smiling. “Justin, you checked all the stones yourself, remember? Even before the provenances came through. Don’t worry. Everything’s good.”

“It’s an important collection,” he told her, glancing back into the room where an auction would be held in two days. “Want to take a look?”

“I really do.”

He took her arm and guided her into the center of the room.

Lighting was everything in an auction house, and Waverly’s spared no expense in seeing things done right. Around the circumference of the huge, oak-paneled room, glass cases stood beneath spotlights that shone down on the fabulous items inside those cases. Those lights made the precious gems glitter and shine like fallen stars—or pieces of a rainbow.

Charlie couldn’t stop the sigh of appreciation. They turned in a slow circle, admiring the whole setup before Justin said, “Come look at this one piece. It’s amazing.”

“Oh, my,” she whispered as she followed Justin toward a single display case. Beneath the glass lay a swell of black velvet and on that velvet was a necklace unlike anything she’d ever seen before.

Gold wire, as thin and fragile as a single strand of hair, dripped with rubies and diamonds. The stones themselves were wrapped in the gold thread, then left to dangle like dreams from the slender chain that made up the base of the piece. The rubies shone like fresh blood and the diamonds were …

“It’s beautiful.”

“Isn’t it?” Justin stared at the stones like a man in love. “Worn by the queen of Cadria more than a hundred years ago. It was crafted especially for her—some say, by Fabergé himself.” He sighed a little. “Of course, we can’t prove that, because even Cadria’s royal family today doesn’t know for sure. A shame, really. Wouldn’t that have looked impressive in the provenance? But still, stunning.”

Charlie shook her head as she looked at the necklace. She wanted to touch it but was terrified to breathe too close to it. “It’s amazing, Justin. But why is the king of Cadria auctioning off so many of the royal jewels?”

“Ah,” he said with a wink, “the current king is honoring his grandmother by establishing a charity in her name, and the proceeds from this sale are going directly to that. Plus, he thinks the publicity from this sale will spur more donors to support his grandmother’s charity.”

“Still seems a shame to get rid of something that belongs to your whole family.”

“Oh, don’t worry about royals, sweetie,” Justin told her. “They have more jewelry and shiny stuff than they know what to do with. These pieces probably won’t even be missed.”

“I would miss a necklace like that,” she said softly. “I’d be too scared of breaking or losing the darn thing to actually wear it, but I would miss it.”

“You’ve got a soft heart, Charlie,” Justin told her with a grin. “Which means you’ll love the legend of the necklace.”

“A legend?”

“Oh, yes. All the best stones come with a legend. Apparently, the then-king had this crafted especially for his bride as a wedding present. It’s said the rubies are charmed somehow and hold the secret to a long and happy marriage.”

Charlie looked over at him and smiled as her heart twisted in her chest. What would that be like, she wondered, to be loved so much? She thought of the queen who had worn it and the king who had clearly adored her and thought that sometimes, real life was even better than fairy tales. “That’s lovely.”

Justin winked at her. “Yeah. And it should really push up the price on the necklace, too. Nothing a bidder likes more than a little history added to a piece.”

She laughed. Couldn’t help it. “You’re shameless.”

“Guilty as charged,” he admitted with a grin.

Charlie reached out one hand toward the glass enclosure, then stopped before touching it. Her fingers curled into her palm.

“It’s okay. Alarms are turned off for the moment. Here, let me show you.” Justin lifted the glass case off the tall wooden base and allowed the necklace the freedom to shine.

“Even prettier,” she said on a sigh. Though it was so far out of her range of possibilities it might as well have been on Mars, Charlie couldn’t help the tickle of avarice that made her want to snatch it up.

“You want to pet it?” he asked, laughing.

“Pet it, try it on, wear it home and sing it to sleep,” Charlie admitted, deliberately putting her hands behind her back to keep herself from giving in to the urge to touch those glittering stones that shone so warmly under the lights.

“Can’t blame you,” Justin said. “And with your coloring, it would look gorgeous on you.”

She thought so, too. In fact, Charlie could almost feel the cool glide of the gold against her skin and the icy feel of each stone settling into place around her neck. Oh, it would be wonderful as well as terrifying to own something that looked so … magical. Then she imagined the expression on Vance Waverly’s handsome face as he draped that priceless necklace around her throat and—Okay. Stop it!

Clearing her mind of thoughts that had no business being there she said, “Yes, well. When I marry a rich prince, I’ll be sure to tell him what kind of necklace to have made for me.”

Justin laughed. “There you go. I like a woman with a plan.”

He set the glass cover back into place and Charlie let her gaze slide around the room. Tomorrow, this room would be filled with rows of straight-backed, velvet-tufted chairs. A podium would be centered at the end of the room and the sound system would be hooked up. The day after that, this room would be bustling with bidders from all over the world, each of them hoping to take home a small piece of the long-dead queen’s collection.

Charlie had already signed on to work the auction in whatever capacity she was needed, but she wouldn’t be envying the buyers. Justin was right, she thought. Charlie did have a plan. But it didn’t include diamonds and rubies. It entailed working her way to the very top of the auction world and being able to buy a house with a yard for her son to play in. Before he was too old to be interested in playing.

Charlie Potter wasn’t the kind of woman men draped in diamonds, and that was okay with her. These pieces were lovely to look at, but the truth was, she’d be too afraid of losing them to ever enjoy owning them.

She had nothing in common with the kind of people who could come in here and walk out with a queen’s jewelry. Which meant, she reminded her hormones, that she had nothing in common with Vance Waverly. That a few minutes of relaxed conversation wasn’t the go-ahead for her to get all dreamy-eyed over him. Besides, she told herself, it was important to pause and remember what had happened the last time she had let her heart take control of her mind.

Three

She took a deep breath, forced a bright smile and said, “You’ve done an amazing job, Justin.”

“Thanks.” He swept the room with an experienced eye. “I think so, too. Should be a hell of an auction. You’ll be working it, right?”

“Oh, I’ll be here.”

“Thought you would.” He gave her a knowing wink.

In the two years she’d been at Waverly’s, she had spent as much time working the actual sales as possible. Her love of auctions had started in college when her roommate had dragged her to a small auction of movie memorabilia. That was all it had taken.

The fast-paced bidding, the treasures from the past and the excited atmosphere sparked by the people attending had all come together to energize Charlie in a way she’d never experienced before. She had loved the whole thing. Every moment. She had watched the bidders, studied the auctioneer and thrilled to the quick pace of items bought and sold. She’d felt a stirring of excitement she had never known and that was enough to set her on the path that had eventually led her to Manhattan and her entry-level job at Waverly’s.

She’d learned everything she could about the auction world and studied both this house and the other stately auction houses. She had wanted to be part of something amazing and every time she walked into this wonderful old building, she felt as if she’d accomplished her dream. At least, the first part of it.

Charlie made a point of working the auctions here, to support Waverly’s, to help where she could and to continue to learn the ins and outs of a business that seemed to change daily. From the first moment she had stepped inside Waverly’s, she had known that she’d found where she belonged. And the feeling had only intensified since that day.

“You know me,” she said quietly, her gaze sliding across the familiar, the exciting. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Excellent. We’ll need as many hands as possible behind the scenes.”

“Sure.” Thankfully, the day-care facility at Waverly’s was open during all the auctions so that employees could leave their children somewhere safe while they worked. Jake did love being with all of his little friends and … She checked her watch. “I’ve gotta go, Justin. Thanks for the grand tour.”

“No problem,” he said, already opening the file she’d brought him to study the provenances. “See you Saturday.”

“Right.” She turned and walked out of the luscious display of jewels that were the stuff of dreams. Taking the elevator up two floors, she eagerly left behind dreams for a chance to see her reality.

“I’m not going to dignify these unfounded rumors with a response,” Ann Richardson said softly, her gaze sweeping the board members gathered around the long, cherrywood conference table. “And I hope I can count on all of you for your support.”

People shifted uncomfortably in their seats, but Vance held perfectly still, his gaze fixed on the woman facing them down with the air of a young queen. Tall and willowy, Ann had her ice-blond hair styled into a perfect, curled-under style that ended at her jawline. Her blue eyes were sharp as she met the stares of the other board members. She wore one of her elegantly tailored business suits—this one black with gray pinstripes—and her chin was lifted at a defiant angle. She looked proud and strong as she silently dared anyone to contradict her.

Vance had always admired Ann Richardson, but never more so than right now. With the article in the newspaper, the entire city would be whispering about her, speculating about her. But it seemed that she had chosen a path to take—steely indifference—and he had to applaud it. If she fought the charges with a vehement argument, it would only spur on the talk. She couldn’t admit they were true—even if they were. The only road she could take was the “no comment” route. By doing it here first, with the board, she would be able to gauge how well it would go over elsewhere.

The board members looked shaken and worried and he knew they were all thinking about the possible ramifications of this situation. If it wasn’t cleared up soon, rumor would become suspicion and suspicion would become fact. Whether or not she was guilty of anything, Ann’s career and reputation could very well be destroyed—along with Waverly’s.

Seconds ticked past and the quiet in the room was deafening. Here on the seventh floor, the boardroom was a study in understated elegance. The walls were a pale beige, the crown molding a stark white. Old masters hung on the walls and a twisted brass sculpture of Atlas balancing the world on his shoulders stood in one corner.

Vance held his peace, since he wanted to hear everyone else’s reactions before he spoke. He knew he wouldn’t have to wait long. It took about ten seconds.

“It’s outrageous is what it is,” George Cromwell sputtered first.

“These innuendoes are baseless,” Ann insisted, her voice calm. “I would never put Waverly’s at risk, and I hope you all know that.”

“Yes, Ann,” George Cromwell said from his seat at the end of the table. “I’m sure we all appreciate your devotion to the company, but this article clearly states that we have a problem.”

Vance saw the flinch Ann couldn’t quite disguise. But since he was the youngest member of the board, he was betting no one else noticed.

“The article is nothing more than rumor and supposition.”

“But it’s smoke,” George insisted. “And people will assume that where there is smoke, there is fire.”

Vance rolled his eyes and shook his head. If there was a cliché, George would find it. At seventy-five, he was long past the age of retiring, but the old fox had no intention of giving up his seat on the board. He liked the power. Liked being able to have a say in things. And right now, it looked as though he was enjoying putting Ann through the wringer.

“How can we take your word for this, when there was clearly enough evidence for this reporter to write his story?”

“Since when does a reporter need to back up a story?” she asked haughtily. “There’s more fiction in the daily papers than you’ll find at the nearest bookstore and you all know it.”

Good point, Vance thought, still regarding their CEO warily. He wished he knew Ann better, but he didn’t. She seemed like a warm, congenial enough person, but she’d made a point of keeping people at a distance, refusing to make friends—and now that strategy just might bite her in the ass.

“People believe what they read,” George intoned darkly.

“George, do hush up.” Edwina Burrows spoke up from the end of the table.

“You know I’m right about this,” the man countered hotly.

As the two older people shot verbal darts at each other, Vance watched Ann. Her mouth worked as if she were grinding her teeth and Vance couldn’t really blame her. It had to be hard, standing in front of this bunch, defending yourself against what was at this point merely rumor.

Finally, she turned to him and asked, “Vance? What about you? As the last remaining Waverly on the board, I value your opinion. Do you believe me?”

He studied her for a long minute. Vance knew that now the others were waiting to hear what he had to say. And he knew that whatever he said would swing sentiment either for or against Ann. His first responsibility was to the company and the thousands of people both here and abroad who depended on Waverly’s for their very livelihoods.

But he also owed Ann his support. She’d stepped into the role of CEO and done a hell of a job. She was smart and capable and had never given him any reason to doubt her motives or her loyalties to the house.

He wasn’t convinced that she was telling the complete truth, though. Like it or not, George had a point. That reporter had picked up on some tidbit of gossip as the basis for the story. But even if there was something between Ann and Dalton, Vance still didn’t believe she would sell out Waverly’s.