As his backlog cleared they were able to have more time together—either spending relaxed evenings in his apartment on the Upper East Side or going out to quiet, out-of-the-way restaurants. Then one afternoon he phoned her from his office downtown and asked whether she would come to a function with him.
‘It’s an informal initial launch party for a designer I’m backing—not clothes, but handbags,’ he explained. ‘He’s had a bit of a rough time in the past year or so, but I want that to change now. If you’re OK with it I’ll have one of his evening bags sent round to you—if you could wear something that will show it off?’
‘Of course,’ she said at once. ‘I’d be glad to.’
She was, too, when the bag was delivered. It was a beautifully made clutch, in vivid royal-blue silk, with an appliqué swirl of what Celeste suspected were real sapphires. To show it off to its best she opted for a white dress in silk plissé—a simple design that would not compete with the exquisite evening bag.
Rafael was changing into black tie at his office, so she set off on her own for the small but ferociously elegant boutique hotel at the edge of Central Park. In the lobby she paused by the function board to see which room the function was in.
‘I take it,’ said a voice behind her, ‘that you, too, are heading for the Leonardo Suite?’
She half turned. It was a female voice that had spoken, with an accent that was decidedly English.
‘Yes.’ She smiled, glancing at the woman who had spoken to her.
Some years older than Celeste, she was not as tall—few women were—but her looks were as eye-catching as her voluptuous figure, moulded by a vermilion gown that set off her most striking feature: the rich auburn colouring of her hair.
She looked very faintly familiar. Celeste’s brow furrowed a moment. Actress? Socialite? The wife of someone famous? But she couldn’t place her—and it didn’t matter anyway.
The woman was returning her regard, but it was a lot more comprehensive than Celeste’s quick glance. Dark hazel eyes went to the clutch Celeste was carrying, and narrowed very slightly.
‘May I see?’ she asked suddenly, and held her hand out.
Carefully, Celeste handed it over. The woman promptly turned it around in her hands, and then opened it. ‘You don’t mind, do you?’ she said, without glancing at Celeste and certainly without expecting her to object. The woman looked at the discreet label within and then, with a snap, closed the bag and handed it back to Celeste.
‘Interesting,’ she said. There was the slightest bite in her voice. Then her expression cleared. ‘Shall we go up together, since we’re heading in the same direction?’
Celeste could hardly object, and they walked to the lift together.
‘It’s an effective choice,’ the woman said as the elevator doors closed on them. Her glance indicated the white gown Celeste was wearing.
‘Thank you,’ she said, adding nothing more.
‘Is it going to be a theme?’ the woman asked.
‘I’m sorry?’ Celeste looked confused.
‘Having all the models dressed in white, each with a different coloured bag. It would be very effective,’ the woman said.
Celeste shook her head. ‘Yes, I see that. But in fact, no—I’m just a one-off tonight,’ she said lightly, with a social smile.
‘Really?’ the woman replied. ‘Sounds like he’s missed a trick. Which isn’t surprising, of course. Tell me, out of curiosity, what’s your fee for an evening like this?’
Again, Celeste looked confused. Then she realised the woman had, perhaps not surprisingly, assumed first that she was a model and second that she’d been hired to carry one of the designer’s products.