A Solitary Romance: Book 1 in the Only Love Series (2 page)

As she closed her laptop, the computer pinged.  Curiosity got the best of her as she reviewed a comment left on her blog.  Someone must have been up late and perused her post already.  The message read,

Dear Ms. Sparks,

I've been admiring your aesthetic, and especially your insights regarding the jewels of the Romanovs.  Did you know that the Heller has a major exhibition of Czarist treasures beginning in July?  I would like to discuss your thoughts on the collection.  Please ring me at your convenience.

Sincerely,

Bernard Bronson

Katrina chuckled and shut down her computer.  Another good reason not to read the comments left by her readers . . . crackpots.  Bernard left a number where he could be reached, but there was no way she would call this weirdo.  She went to bed depressed, regretting turning down her one and only chance with Mr. LaSalla.

Bernard Bronson entered her mind when the alarm rang the next morning.  The second thought to hit her brain related to her unfinished research on that Asian investment vehicle.  Her boss would want his answer.  The managing partner of Dodd and Company created a family relationship with his employees.  Fatherly and kind, he roused loyalty from everyone in the firm.  Katrina always aimed to please William Dodd, and his appreciation of her work seemed its own reward.  She'd never heard anyone say a bad word about him. Many of their clients were his personal friends.

Currently, she worked on due diligence for a securities firm that considered acquiring another institution.  It was that institution that had millions allocated to a murky vehicle from Malaysia.  On the surface, it appeared as if they'd bought the securities on margins.  Since her former boss left the firm for a job at a private wealth management company in New York City, Katrina had been reporting directly to the managing partner.  Her superior wanted a thorough explanation today.

She signed on to the internet and Googled the Heller Museum.  Clicking on
Staff
, she saw Bernard Bronson listed as Director of Special Collections and Exhibits.  The main phone number for the institution came close to the number left in her blog comments.  Katrina almost fell from the chair.   Too small to compete with the oil money-endowed, big museums of Santa Monica and South Pasadena, the Heller kept relevant with visiting exhibitions by displaying unique collections.  Located near downtown in the old money enclave of Hancock Park, the museum's Spanish architecture and modern wing housed a
so-so
permanent collection of paintings and decorative arts.

She checked her watch.  She'd ring Mr. Bronson mid-morning.  Thrilled at the unusual opportunity, she forgot all about her work demands and enjoyed a long, hot shower.  Instead of the de rigueur power suit, she chose a flouncy floral dress with three-quarter ruffled sleeves.  Soft blue and red blossoms dominated the frock's white background.  Adding a light weight checkered blue scarf to accommodate the mild weather and slipping on a pair of red, kitten heeled pumps, she headed out the door with a zip in her step.  Today would be a good day.

Kiki Tam greeted Katrina at the office.  Usually, the auditor opened shop each morning, but today she'd dallied at home.  Kiki hailed from Hawaii, and after college in Washington state, she worked her way down the coast to Southern California.  She took graduate classes at night in Asian studies and worked at Dodd and Company by day as a jack-of-all-trades receptionist, a vanishing breed.

"Wow, that Mr. Wonderful sounds
H-O-T
!" she whispered with enthusiasm.  "Your description was so good, I felt like I could see him!  Did you make that up?"

Kiki had read the
Violet Sparks
blog.

  "Shhh!"  The last thing she wanted was to be found out as Violet Sparks.  "I'll never tell," she added with a grin.

Kiki narrowed her almond-shaped eyes and pinched her lips together, then cocked an eyebrow.  The spunky Hawaiian in platform peep-toe pumps could be a handful.  Katrina looked her friend up and down with admiration.  The receptionist's lacquered red toe nails stood out against black patent shoes.  Her short, tight pencil skirt showed off her shapely legs, and her high-necked black and hot pink floral blouse spotlighted her exotic features.

"You're missing your calling as a romance author, Kate.  That's all I can say."  Kiki fanned herself with rapid movements of her right hand for effect.  She continued, "Have you seen that new lawyer up on seventeen?  He's a dish.  I've heard he hangs out at Barstow's after work.  Let's go down there tonight and see if we can't meet him."

Katrina did not like hanging out in bars, especially to meet men.  Rod had planned on law school and later joining his father's entertainment practice.  She'd envisioned her entire life before her back then, picket fence and all.  Now, she wanted nothing to do with attorneys.

"I'll have to pass on that one, Kiki.  If anyone asks for me, I'll be heading over to the library at nine."

"All right, Girl.  Hey!"  She raised her voice.

She turned to see what her friend wanted.

"I like the togs.  A bit saucy for
you
, but nice," Kiki said with a grin before turning to greet a client who had just arrived.

Chapter 2
-Lunch With Russians-

By ten a.m., Katrina had a good idea of the structure of the investment she'd been researching.  She Xeroxed several items at the library and headed back to the office, only a block away.  Once behind closed doors, she called the number left by Bernard Bronson, almost giving her real name when asked by his secretary.  Fortunately, she caught herself, claiming Violet Sparks as her identity.

"Hallo, Violet.  I'm thankful you called so promptly."

"Hello, Mr. Bronson.  What can I do for you?"

"Oh, do call me Barry.  I'm a huge fan of your blog, and the owners of the items in the upcoming exhibit are requiring that our staging be approved before they ship their treasures.  It's the first time I've had to deal with this kind of issue.  So, I'm really under the gun here.  I'd be most grateful if you'd consider meeting with me.  I've got the basics established, but I feel certain displays lack pizazz.  Without the jewels present, it's hard to mock up their settings.  Would you consider discussing it over lunch?"

She could not believe what was happening.  The director of Special Collections and Exhibits wanted her input on staging jewelry from Czarist Russia?  She didn't have to think twice.

"I'd love to.  What time and day works for you, Mr. Bronson?"

"Today would be best.  Say around noon? And please, do call me Barry."

  "All right, Barry.  I'll see you at twelve."

The director signed off.  Kate tried to pinpoint his sophisticated accent but couldn't.  With a name like Barry, she guessed he was an older gentleman.  Who would have thought such a blessing would come from her internet musings about jewelry?

She spent the remainder of the morning organizing her research for the presentation to Mr. Dodd.  Finding the receptionist area deserted at 11:30, she took a quick glance around the fifteenth floor.  The conference room had its shades drawn, and none of the department heads appeared to be in their offices.  All signs pointed to an important meeting.  She had her own summit to attend, so she didn't give the gathering any more thought as she hailed a cab.

Katrina attended numerous exhibits at the Heller over the years, so she knew her way around the public spaces of the museum.  She approached the main desk, where she often purchased tickets, and asked to see Mr. Bronson.  Again, she almost identified herself as Katrina Crimshaw instead of Violet Sparks. 
Oh, what a tangled web we weave
.

Escorted upstairs, she waited outside a mahogany door as the receptionist knocked.  A female voice authorized admittance, and the auditor was left alone in an anteroom with Bernard's secretary.  The pretty twenty-something welcomed Katrina with a smile and invited her to sit in one of the chairs opposite her desk.  She recognized Mr. Bronson's assistant as someone who possessed the sophisticated ease of the trust fund babies who populated museums and auction houses. 

"Barry, Violet Sparks is here," the girl spoke into an office phone.

"Send her right in!"

Katrina overheard what sounded like a zealous response.

The pretty young thing stood and opened the director's door, moving to the side so
Violet
could enter.

"Hallo, Violet.  Thank you for coming on such notice.  I do appreciate it."

She had to make sure her jaw didn't gape open.  Standing in front of her with a hand outstretched in greeting, Barry appeared thirty at the outside.  Devilishly handsome with a grin to match, the director flashed a smile unlike any Katrina had witnessed before.  She took in his suit— custom made in London, no doubt, dark navy with pin striping, double-breasted and tailored to fit the man's slim physique.  His wavy amber hair matched his brown eyes, which stood out against a flawless, pale, probably English complexion.

"Are you all right, Ms. Sparks?" he said, again with that accent.

She found her tongue.

"Yes. I'm afraid with a name like Barry, I took you for a much older person.  It's uncommon in the States," she explained, then wished she'd kept her musings to herself.

"Oh.  Well, I
am
from England, although raised on the Continent.  Please have a seat," he said as an amused expression played across his face.

He took her comment in stride.  She settled in a plush leather club chair, and the director handed her a menu.

"I thought we'd order from the museum café and dine here.  If you don't mind."

Katrina could listen to that accent forever and not tire of it.

"Do you mind, Violet?"

"Oh, no, not at all."

She'd gotten caught up in Barry's speech and appearance, and hadn't responded to his suggestion.  She hoped he didn’t think her daft. 

After another pause, Bernard said, "Shall I order for you?"

She gathered her wits at last.

"Please do, Barry.  You see, I'm just a little in awe over all this."  She waved her hand signifying the museum in general, then continued, "I have no real training in gemology or jewelry design, although I did take a course once.  I feel completely out of my league," Kate confessed.  She hoped he wouldn't throw her out of his office, now that he knew she lacked credentials.

Instead, the man smiled, pushed a button on his phone, and directed his secretary to bring up a number seven and a number ten, along with tea.

"Iced or hot?" he asked Katrina.

"Iced, please."

After completing the order, he gave her what she already referred to in her mind as
The Grin
.

"I didn't have any direct training either, Violet.  All one needs is a proper break and a quick mind.  As I said in my note, I appreciate your aesthetic.  Now, take a look at these."

Barry handed her a folio of glossy color prints.

"Besides, my grandmother's name was Violet.  It's what initially drew me to your blog."

She thought about confessing her real name on the spot, but chose against it.  She didn't see the harm of maintaining her privacy.  The photos displayed an incredible collection of tiaras, scepters, jewel boxes, clocks, and other trinkets, including two
parures
.  Katrina gasped.

"Impressed?" Barry asked.

Kate released a slow stream of oxygen from her lungs and nodded.  She'd forgotten to breathe while examining the pictures.

"The yellow diamond and pearl set is beyond words," she whispered.

The jewelry she referred to consisted of stiff platinum crafted to be worn as a necklace or flipped over and used as a crown, a matching bracelet, and ear fobs.  Large oval, yellow diamonds formed the centers of flowers, while pearls and triangular white diamonds served as petals.  Smaller, oval canary diamonds formed buds.  A master craftsman had fashioned leaves with pavé diamonds.  A string of large pearls, braced by platinum, held everything together. Another flower made up the clasp.  The earrings started with a large bloom, matching those on the necklace.  Two inches of leaves, intertwined with buds, trailed beneath the yellow diamond and pearl flower.  The same gemstones comprised the bracelet.

"How do you see it displayed?" Barry asked.

A picture came to her mind in an instant.

"The necklace should be situated on a simple velvet stand, preferably white, with a mirror  above, so guests can see it as a crown as well as a necklace."  Kate held her hand up to reflect the proper angle of the mirror.  She continued, "Otherwise, many visitors will not guess its versatility.  Also, the display should be surrounded by simple white daisies."

The director, who had smiled at her mirror idea, now raised an eyebrow.

"Hear me out.  The pieces are so ornate, so unthinkable in today's world.  They should be surrounded by the most uncomplicated, unfussy flowers.  A daisy has a yellow center, just like the blossoms on the
parure
, and is almost childlike in its beauty.  Yes, artfully arranged masses of daisies should encircle these jewels!  In addition, I'd like to see the flowers' roots reaching into soil at the bottom of the case, signifying the birthplace of the stones—the earth."

Katrina forgot her lack of credentials and sold her ideas with the conviction of an expert.

"What about the other set?" Bernard asked, pointing to another photo.

She ran the tips of her fingers over the picture.  She couldn't help herself.  A dramatic
devant de corsage
made of varying sizes and colors of diamonds sat next to similar fobs.