A Solitary Romance: Book 1 in the Only Love Series (19 page)

Barry just smiled and escorted her into the exhibit.

Inside, their efforts with the lighting paid dividends.  Everything twinkled and gleamed.  Doris stood between the two displays Katrina had designed, nodding her approval as guests filed by,
oohing
and
ahhing
.  She waved Barry and Kate over and had them pose with her for photographs.  A reporter from the
Times
asked a few questions about how she came up with the ideas for the unusual presentations.  Barry gave her a jab, encouraging her to explain.  She stated that she meditated on photographs of the pieces and went with the first thing to cross her mind.  Barry jumped in to explain the symbolism behind the soil and ice features while the journalist took notes.

Several guests took the time to compliment Katrina on her work.  When a major patron commanded Barry's attention, she made her way to the cigarette cases.  These small treasures held a fascination for her.  While Kate had always loved jewelry, she'd never considered items like these boxes as works of art.  Now, she knew differently. A rhodonite example drew her attention.  The red case, marbled with a few thin lines of cream and black, displayed intricate yellow gold fret work around its large, side-set, oval diamond clasp.  She guessed the stone weighed at least three carats.  She admired the red fire emanating from its center.  A brass plate on the display described the item's history.  Crafted by Fabergé in 1911, with an original price of sixty-four pounds sterling, the container for cigarettes had been a gift from a Grand Duke to his son-in-law.

"So, is this why you've missed so much work lately?" Robert's voice growled in her ear.

Lost in thought over the cigarette case, she jumped, startled by his words. Kate succeeded in garnering the attention of one of the security staff.  She turned on her heel, ready to confront her boss.

"Well, I'm on my own time now and have no need to answer to you," she whispered, noting that the guard kept a keen eye on her.

The thin line of his lips eased into a smile as he studied her features. 

"You're full of surprises, Miss Crimshaw," he said.

Robert reached for her hands, which she'd balled into fists, and ran his thumbs over her fingers.  She wanted to slap him, but she wouldn't cause a scene here at the museum on her big night.  Instead, she yanked her hands free as he tilted his head low and whispered against her neck.

"Are you planning to box my ears?" he asked, amused. 

"Would you
please
leave me alone?" she said, flustered.

"Hallo, I'm Bernard Bronson.  I don't think we've met," Barry said, shoving his hand forward to shake Robert's.

Thank goodness Both arrived when he did.  She was sure the security man was about to move in on them. 
Mortifying!

"Robert LaSalla," he said after an awkward pause and shook Barry's hand.

"Oh, yes.  Thank you for your gift towards the exhibit.  I'm glad we've finally met."

"Yes," Robert said, keeping his eyes on Katrina before moving on to the next case.

Barry took Kate's elbow and led her in the opposite direction.  She looked over her shoulder and saw her boss examining a desk set. 
Where is Giselle?

"I say, that bloke's a bit much," Both said, after they'd made their escape.

"What do you mean?" she asked, still pondering the odds of her boss becoming a museum patron and sponsoring
this
exhibit, her exhibit.

"I mean, he acts like he's got some kind of hold over you," he said, his attention drawn by the arrival of another big donor.

"I guess he does," she replied, her voice just above a whisper.

Barry didn't take note of her remark and guided her over to Randolph Sullivan.  Mr. Sullivan proved a talker and kept them occupied until David Miller announced dinner.

Long tables, draped in crisp white linens, filled the museum courtyard.  Fountains at each end provided the sound of babbling brooks, while an ensemble played soft classical music in one corner.  Colorless twinkle lights strung between olive trees added a jubilant touch to the ambiance. 

With discretion, Doris insisted someone amend the seating chart, and swapped an old duffer, assigned to her right, for Katrina.  Always interested in analyzing new donors, Mrs. Heller had already requested that Robert and his guest be placed across from her.  Leiselle shot Kate a smug look and proceeded to fawn over her date throughout the meal as the elderly woman attempted to make conversation.  Clearly unimpressed with the blonde's behavior, the museum patron focused her efforts on Robert and Kate.  Luckily, the man never mentioned his connection to the auditor, and went along as if they'd just met.  Vacillating between embarrassment over his date's behavior and amusement at Katrina's discomfort, Robert's expression reflected that he'd tired of the emotional seesaw by the time dessert arrived.   She felt certain she saw him try to shrug
Giselle's
arm from his shoulder more than once. 
The broad just doesn't get it.

Katrina remained attentive to Doris, but could hardly look at her boss when Leiselle draped herself all over him.

"Sweet Girl, I find your demure carriage particularly refreshing amongst today's vulgar displays of . . . " Doris paused, searching for the correct word. "
Emotion
.  In my day, girls of proper breeding all went to finishing school, and no one went about in polite society without knowing their place
and
watching their manners."

Robert almost choked on a bite of tiramisu.   The comments shot right over Leiselle's head—she was certain of that.  Doris patted the auditor's thigh under the table, where no one could see, and smiled with sympathy at the girl.  It was the doyenne's way of commiserating with her for having to witness the bimbo's behavior.  Katrina felt so grateful for the care shown her by Doris, especially after her horrid week.

When the party broke up, Barry came and found his date, whispering an apology for the seating chart switch.  She assured him that everything turned out fine.

"I'm really tired, Both.  Would you mind walking me to my car?  I need to go home and sleep," she pleaded. 

She'd heard some of the staff speak of an after-party, but she didn't feel up to that.

"Of course, Darling," he said.

Barry walked her to the car and gave her a sweet good night kiss, then held her in a quick embrace before thanking her and once again gushing over the exhibit's success.  He left her leaning against her car door when museum staff called him back inside.

Katrina pulled the handle on her car.  Before she could open the door wide, a hand reached around her and pushed it shut.  She guessed that Both had returned to see her off and prepared for another kiss.

"Come back for more?" she teased before turning.

"Not you again!" she exclaimed, her voice rising.

"Doesn't James mind you kissing that fellow, or does he know?" Robert demanded in a brittle tone, jerking his head towards the direction Barry had gone.

    "He doesn't know!" she blurted before thinking better of it. 

What was wrong with her?  She owed
him
no explanations.  Why did she allow him to get under her skin?  Aware her voice sounded shrill, and feeling a mix of anger and frustration, Kate pinched her lips shut, determined that Robert would not dictate her emotions.

He stepped back, shock all over his face.

Katrina had no idea what he'd expected or why he cared.  Obviously, he hadn't counted on honesty from her.  She pulled the door open and jumped in the driver's seat, slamming herself inside.  Her boss stood rooted next to her car.  She felt it necessary to defend Both. 
How dare he insinuate my brother wouldn’t care for my beau!
She rolled down her window as she started the engine.

"If my brother did know Barry, he'd certainly approve!" she yelled at the startled man before driving off.

She sped by Leiselle, who had just exited the museum. 
The bimbo must have needed to powder her nose after all her contortions at dinner
.

Chapter 16
-Resolutions-

The ringing phone by her bedside jolted Katrina awake.  Rolling over, she pulled the receiver to her ear.

"Guess what, Girl?" Kiki's voice, full of excitement, echoed through the receiver.

"What?" she asked, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.

"You made the paper!  Your picture's in the
Times
!"

"Hang on," she said after her friend's words registered.

She ran to her front door and struggled with the lock.  Nervous excitement ran through her like lightning, and she found herself shaking.  Shoving the door open, she grabbed the newspaper from her mat and returned to her bedroom.

"What section?" she asked into the phone, flipping through the Friday edition.

"The Arts," Kiki replied.  "They've got a special
Look Ahead
for the weekend and they featured the Heller and you!" she added.

Katrina thrashed through the paper, throwing sheets to the side until she found it.  A large photo of David, great scissors in hand, Doris, and herself stretched across the broadsheet.  The headline read,
Russian Jewels Come to Heller
.  Beneath the photo, a blurb appeared describing the trio:
Director David Miller prepares to slice the ribbon as Doris Heller praises newcomer, Violet Sparks, whose artistic direction guided the exhibit. 

"By all accounts,
Treasures of the Romanovs
, the exhibit which opened at the Heller last night, is not to be missed.  Those who eschew stuffy museums and presentations designed to glorify a long-lost aristocracy might wish to give
Treasures
a second look.  Innovative displays created by Violet Sparks, jewelry blogger and newcomer to the Heller, provided an intriguing alternative to the standard fare offered by traditional galleries and . . . " Katrina read aloud.

"No more hiding the blog from everyone, huh?" Kiki interrupted.

The auditor held her breath as the full weight of the article hit her. 

"Oh, no!  I was so excited last night that I didn’t pay attention to the name thing.  Both's been calling me Violet so much that I respond to it.  Robert must have heard them call me that.  They announced my pen name over the loud speaker!" She rattled off the catastrophe with one long exhale, only now realizing that her boss had witnessed her answer to her psuedonym.  Why hadn't he questioned her about it?

"Robert who?"

"Robert LaSalla, our boss!  He was there at the museum with that blonde.  Apparently, he's a new donor."

"He's not
our
boss anymore," the receptionist said in a soft tone.

Her words hit Kate like a two by four.  Did the man quit?

"What do you mean?" she asked in a low tone, her voice suddenly calm.  Strange feelings flooded the girl, akin to disappointment, regret, loss.

"I
mean
, I quit!  Gave my notice yesterday."

"You what?" Katrina yelled into the receiver.

"Yep.  Told him where to cram his lousy job, so to speak.  William will be furious when he finds out, and then I don't think Robert will be long for Dodd and Company."

She couldn't believe her ears.  Reeling from the news, she pulled the phone away from her ear and gawked at it until she heard her friend's voice asking if she was still there.

"What happened, Kiki?  You know,
you
keep the office running.  How could you up and quit like that?"

"Robert LaSalla went too far is
what
happened.  I guess he thought I was a pushover, like you.  Oh, sorry.  I didn't mean it like that," the receptionist backpedaled.

"It's alright.  I know. I haven't exactly stood up to the man.  He's just so . . . so . . . I don't know.  But, some of what he said in my review was accurate, Kiki."

"Don't you believe it, Girl!  After I saw what he did to you, I decided I wouldn't take anything off him.  He had the nerve to look down his nose at me and make some comment about my lack of discretion and loyalty to my coworkers!"

"Huh?  I can't believe it.  That man is a regular Doctor Jekyll and Mr. Hyde sometimes."

"Well, Girl, I can believe it.  I told him he must be suffering from hallucinations and gave my two week notice.  Then, I met with Harriet and lodged a complaint against the jerk."

"Oh, you didn't."

"Yes, I did.  And don't you dare defend him.  I saw what he did to you.  You looked like one of the walking dead when you left the office Wednesday."

"Kiki, what are you going to do?  He won't give you a recommendation."

"I don’t need his recommendation.  I've got copies of all the glowing reviews William gave me over the years, plus more letters praising me from when I applied to graduate school.  I'm going to focus on my degree.  I can finish up in six months, if I buckle down."

"I wish I could quit," Kate whispered, almost to herself.

"You can, Girl.  Just do it when it's best for you.  Oh, I gotta go.  Someone's trying to beep in, and I think it might be James. Bye!"

No sooner had Katrina placed the receiver back in its cradle, than the phone rang again, giving her a jump.

"Hello," she said.

"Good morning, Ms. Crimshaw.  This is doctor Halleck.  I wanted to catch you before you left this morning."

That familiar knot formed in the pit of her stomach, pinching her insides with pain.  It must be bad news.  She braced herself for whatever might come.

"We can't find a thing wrong with you, Ms. Crimshaw.  The blood work came back late last night, so I wanted to let you know as soon as possible.  I think dehydration may be more to blame than anything."

"What?"  Did she hear that right?

"Ms. Crimshaw, you need to drink more water.  Coffee, tea, soda—it all dehydrates the human body.  For every cup of coffee or tea you drink, and every can of soda you consume, you must drink eight ounces of water just to break even.  I recommend you give up those caffeine laden beverages and stick to water," the doctor said, taking care to enunciate each word.