Heads You Win

“I’ll act as the dealer, but with a difference. I’ll buy the picture for half a million, which you can then invest in my company, and I’ll return the Warhol when you repay me.”

“But why take the risk?” said Evelyn.

“There’s no risk, while the picture’s worth a million,” said Alex.

“And you wouldn’t tell Lawrence?”

“Not a word.”

“Then we have a deal,” said Evelyn as she removed the small painting from the wall.

“No, I won’t need to take it until the deal is closed.”

“Then it won’t be possible, because I’m off to the south of France for six weeks, and if I know Todd, he’ll have closed a deal with you long before I get back.” Evelyn handed over the picture. “I trust you enough to keep your end of the bargain.”

Alex reluctantly took the painting, sat down, wrote out a check for five hundred thousand dollars, and handed it to Evelyn.

“Thank you,” she said, leaving it on the bedside table. “Why don’t you come back to Boston next weekend? We can go sailing, and celebrate our new partnership,” she added before kissing him gently on the lips.

Alex couldn’t believe she wanted to see him again, and simply said, “I’d like that.”

“I think it’s time for us to have some breakfast,” said Evelyn. “But not a word to Lawrence about our little deal.”

“I’d rather not, dressed like this,” said Alex. “It was embarrassing enough last night, and it would be even worse at breakfast. In any case, are you sure you want your brother to know I stayed the night?”

“I don’t think he’d give a damn.”

“But I do.”

“You’re so beautifully old-fashioned,” said Evelyn. “But if you insist, you can slip down the back stairs and out of the tradesmen’s entrance. That way no one will see you.”

“I do insist.”

Evelyn shrugged her shoulders and walked across to the bedroom door. She opened it, looked up and down the corridor, and beckoned to Alex to join her. She pointed to a staircase at the far end of the corridor. “Don’t forget the painting,” she said, handing over the Warhol.

He reluctantly took it, and headed to the far end of the corridor.

“Look forward to seeing you next weekend then, darling,” Evelyn said as they went in opposite directions.

Once he was out of sight, Evelyn strolled down the broad staircase to the dining room and joined Lawrence for breakfast.

“Good morning, Evelyn,” he said as she walked in. “I hope you slept well.”

* * *

On the train back to New York, Alex couldn’t resist the occasional glance at the painting. Of course he’d heard of Warhol, but he’d never imagined he would ever own one, even if it was only for a short time. He already felt guilty about holding on to a picture that Evelyn’s grandfather had left her in his will. He couldn’t wait to give it back once she returned his half a million.

When he arrived at Penn Station, he took a cab to Brighton Beach, as he certainly wasn’t going to travel on the subway with a Warhol. Even before he showed his mother the painting, he told her, “I’ve met the woman I’m going to marry.”

* * *

Evelyn arrived at the Mayflower Hotel just after eleven. Todd immediately rose from his place in the alcove and waved. She walked quickly across to join him. Like the Cheshire Cat, she couldn’t stop grinning.

“From the expression on your face, my darling, I assume you’ve sampled the cream,” said Todd as she sat down opposite him.

“A large dollop,” said Evelyn, handing him a check for five hundred thousand dollars.

“Bravo,” he said after pocketing it. “Any problems?”