“Hey, Harry, it’s Major Bennington here.”
“Oh, Mr. Bennington, what can I do for you?” he answers immediately.
“It’s my mother’s birthday next week and my sister, Julia, got this notion in her head that Mom would really like a piece from Maple London. Have you heard of her?”
“Oh yes, but you can’t buy her work on the secondary market. By contract, if you purchase a piece from her and you do not wish to own it any longer, you must return it to her. You receive the full purchase price back no matter the condition it is in.”
“How is that even legal?”
“I believe that you don’t make a purchase but rather a lease and because the item is only leased, you are bound by the terms of the rental agreement.”
“Sounds like some bullshit that a good lawyer could punch their way through.”
“I don’t know about that, sir. I’m a curator at an auction house and not a lawyer. Perhaps I can recommend something else. We have a beautiful collection from the former Duchess of Mayfield. She was one of the Whitney progenies.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Harry. What else do you know about this London person?”
“She’s a brilliant artisan who is enjoying immense popularity. There are quite a few merchandisers who would like to license her designs but so far she’s refused. Her brother is quite wealthy and I believe supports her in some fashion. She does not work for money but rather passion for her work.” Harry sounds like he’s half in love with Maple, too. I scowl at the phone. The only one who should be the subject of her passion is me.
“Thanks for nothing, Harry,” I snap and hang up. I stomp across the street and slide into my car. “Take me back to the office, Medina,” I order my driver.
“Yessir.”
As Medina pulls into traffic, I call my sister.
“Did you get it?” she asks.
“No. Apparently you have to have the right story and mine didn’t work.”
“What story did you tell?” she cries in alarm.
“I had to explain my wedding ring. The staff was not amused.”
“Oh no. What are we going to do about Mom? She’s been talking about getting a Maple London piece for months and since the divorce, she’s been so unhappy. This was the one thing that was going to cheer her up.”
“I know.” I blow out a frustrated breath. After years of being supportive, Mom got the ultimate shaft nine months ago when Dad announced he wanted a divorce because he’d fallen in love with his nineteen-year-old trainer at the neighborhood pilates studio. Mom was heartbroken as Dad had just retired and she’d looked forward to finally spending some time with him. Since Dad’s news, Mom has been in this deep depression. She came across an article about Maple London’s work and how it represented healing and true love and decided that she needed a necklace—that it would bring her peace. I don’t buy that crock of shit, but if it means that she would finally leave the house and start living again, then she’s going to get one of those necklaces.
“Look, don’t cry, Julia. I’m going to get it. Haven’t I always delivered?”
“Yes,” she says softly.
“Great. Just leave it to me.” I hang up and redirect my driver. “Take me to Tartan’s office. We’re going to sue someone.” If I can’t get what I want by ordinary means, I’ll take it even if it requires force.
Chapter 6
Maple
“He might have been a dick but he was handsome,” Trudy says before she takes a bite of her orange chicken. She ordered us takeout from the place down the street after the shop closed. We get food from there about twice a week. She doesn’t even have to put in an order, they know what we want as soon as she calls. I have a bad habit of losing track of time. With that comes forgetting to eat. I can get so focused on what I’m working on that I zone out, not caring about the world around me. I’ve been somewhat useless since Mr. Arrogant left my shop. While I felt a small victory having him escorted out, I also felt a little bad about it. I shouldn’t but I still do.
“He was,” I admit, taking a bite of my food that has no taste to it today. He was too handsome for his own good and he knew it. No wonder he is arrogant. I’m sure people fall all over themselves to give him whatever he wants. I even felt this small pull to give in but luckily Trudy saved the day by getting the door open. Another few minutes trapped in a room with him and I’m not entirely sure what I would have done. I can still feel his warm breath on my neck. I reach up and touch the spot absently. Sweetness. Was that what he called me? I liked it too much. Hell, I am still thinking about how those words sounded coming from his perfect mouth. That smile of his was killer too.