Designer Knockoff (42 page)
Her curiosity got the better of her; she agreed to go up and see Hugh. She steeled herself for the encounter. This wasn’t the way she had visualized their meeting. She had hoped to engineer an accidental encounter in the heart of the Great Hall, with a thousand eager eyes to register Hugh’s guilty reaction to Gloria’s dress. Lacey turned her head quickly to see if perhaps Miguel or Brooke was watching her leave. She caught a glimpse of Stella being chewed out by another tray-bearing waiter. Miguel had swooped in to Stella’s aid, but neither was looking toward Lacey. She had also lost sight of Vic, Braddock, Brooke, Damon, anyone who might be useful. Aaron was pulling her gently out of the eye of the crowd to the perimeter of the room. Lacey felt a twinge of unease.
“By the way, where is Jeffrey?”
Aaron did not disguise his look of annoyance. “At the head table. With Tyler Stone.”
“Tyler? From Senator Dashwood’s office?”
“Yes, she’s a charming girl.”
Lacey craned her head toward the table, which was staged on a platform above the crowd. It was set aside for the Bentleys and other gala sponsors. Jeffrey was as handsome as ever, and Tyler was making her own fashion statement in a bold black-and-white gown, rather reminiscent of the young Jacqueline Kennedy. Very simple, very elegant. Tyler had a protective hand on his arm and he seemed to be enjoying himself.
So Tyler’s not his type? What did he really want from me?
So Tyler’s not his type? What did he really want from me?
“They make a lovely couple, don’t they?” Aaron said. “I expect they’ll be making an announcement soon.”
“But I didn’t think he was seeing anyone.” Although Lacey had no claim on Jeffrey, she felt a stab of dismay. Despite Tyler’s obvious pedigree, there was something grasping about her. It couldn’t really be true? Miss Trust-fund Baby and Jeffrey, the white sheep of the Bentleys? He had flat-out denied it. Her puzzlement must have shown on her face.
“I forgot, you two are friends, aren’t you? Well, maybe they’ll invite you to the wedding.”
Fighting to regain her composure, Lacey changed the subject. “Where’s Cordelia tonight?”
“I haven’t the faintest. She was supposed to be here, but I haven’t seen her, have you?” Aaron placed his hand a little too intimately in the small of Lacey’s back and steered her to a stairwell off the hall. “It seems your scoop on me and Esme upset the beautiful Cordelia and she’s broken off our relationship.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m not.”
Lacey had to lift her skirt so she could navigate the shallow redbrick steps, worn in uneven grooves. She didn’t trust herself not to stumble in those beautiful but treacherous high heels. At the top of the stairs they turned to the right and passed the “Private Reception” sign. Aaron opened the door to the suite. She had seen the trio of elegant icy blue-green rooms with their lofty ceilings before, while visiting the museum. A long country table in antique pine was laden with food and drink and decorated with fine linen tablecloths and napkins in rich jeweled colors, emerald, sapphire, ruby, and gold. The crystal stemware was heavy and the china plates creamy, trimmed in gold. Elaborate silver candelabras twined with ivy and cream roses sat on either end.
Hugh Bentley sat like a king in a leather club chair near the fireplace, which was set with a flower arrangement rather than a fire. He held a wineglass in his hand. All that was missing was the court jester, Lacey thought.
Maybe that’s my role
. Hugh rose and bowed slightly.
Maybe that’s my role
. Hugh rose and bowed slightly.
“Why don’t you leave us, Aaron, and see if our dear Cordelia has deigned to arrive. I’ll call you in a bit. We can’t miss the speeches. We have to make a few of our own.”
Lacey glanced around the room. She noticed Hugh’s silver-tipped walking stick leaning against his chair. Yet another example of the Bentley taste in antiques, its handle sported an intricately carved silver lion’s head. And Hugh with his silver mane was the very image of a regal old lion himself. Aaron shut the door and was gone.
chapter 29
“Have some Champagne, my dear.” Hugh indicated the bottle in a silver bucket. She declined, and she could see his eyes linger hungrily on the dress. “That is a most remarkable gown, Ms. Smithsonian. Would you mind turning around so I can see the full effect?”
Lacey spun slowly around, light catching the beading on the dress and the diamonds in her earrings. She heard him sigh, a long, low utterance that could have been a moan. She turned again to face him.
“And just when I thought you couldn’t pull another rabbit out of the hat. I always wondered what it would look like properly made. It quite takes my breath away.”
“You know the designer then?”
“Unmistakably Gloria Adams. Now do tell me how you came by the pattern. Because the dress is new, isn’t it? It’s been made specifically for you, the way it caresses you, the way the skirt flows. It is beautifully made.”
“I have questions of my own, Hugh.”
“Then we will exchange information. First, may I offer you something? Some wine, perhaps?” His arm waved toward the buffet. But Lacey couldn’t risk alcohol clouding her wits.
“No, thank you.”
Hugh stood up and walked over to the reception table and laughed. “I wouldn’t poison you, you know.”
“I didn’t think you would, Hugh.”
Takes too long. Unless it’s cyanide, and then where would you hide the body? No trunks here.
Takes too long. Unless it’s cyanide, and then where would you hide the body? No trunks here.
Hugh poured himself a glass of port and sat down again. “Do sit down, my dear.” Lacey sat down opposite him. “I tried to produce that dress myself—well, something similar, in lilac. It didn’t work. I had misunderstood its lines. But Gloria ...” He swirled his port, gazing into it as if it were a window into the past. “It isn’t too late to enshrine that dress where it belongs, in the Bentley couture collection,” he said finally.
Will he stop at nothing to get it?
she wondered. After all, he took Gloria’s wedding gown for Marilyn. “Gloria Adams designed your first collection,” Lacey stated simply.
she wondered. After all, he took Gloria’s wedding gown for Marilyn. “Gloria Adams designed your first collection,” Lacey stated simply.
“Yes. And no. Her designs inspired the line, but we were a team. Of course, they had to be tamed somewhat for mass market.”
“Yet only your name was on them.”
“That was the deal. It was my factory. She was my ... well, you might say protégé. And mind you, young woman, I am a designer. The best of my kind.” His voice rose, then softened. “But Gloria was one of a kind.”
“And what about my aunt Mimi?” She knew she should pursue Gloria, but family loyalty and sheer curiosity had to be satisfied.
“Your great-aunt was a beauty, but she proved to be quite a problem. It must run in the family.”
“Because she started the OPA investigation?”
“You do your homework.” He lifted his glass to her. “Mimi could be far too straitlaced about certain things.”
“She knew right from wrong,” Lacey said, feeling the blood rise in her face.
He chuckled. “Oh, there are so many shades of right and wrong.”
“Black and white. Mimi never wore the black suit. The suit she always said was a Bentley’s Original. She knew you’d stolen the design from Gloria.”
“That woman could really carry a grudge.” Hugh shook his head at the memory of Mimi Smith. “Perhaps I can tell you something you don’t know, Ms. Smithsonian.”
“Please do, Mr. Bentley.” She wanted to wring the story out of him, but she knew that she had to let him tell it at his own pace.
“I recognized that suit the instant I saw it on you. I also knew that Mimi’s suit never came with the gold-embroidered Bentley’s Original Premiere Collection label, that every stitch was labored over by Gloria herself to impress me, and it did. And it is the only one.”
“But wasn’t it your first collection?”
“That suit was never made in black for the Bentley line. And the jeweled button covers, Gloria had those specially made. She took the stones, the pearls and rubies, from a pin I had given her. She told me it was too big and ugly and she had ‘improved’ it. God, she was nervy.” Hugh laughed at the memory.
Lacey remembered one of the letters from Gloria that described how she had improved the smock she had to wear. “But surely it was just costume jewelry.”
“No, my dear. The stones are real. Perhaps they aren’t the finest jewels, but they are real and, of course, those button covers are one-of-a-kind. They were made by a jeweler in Greenwich Village. So you can see that your suit is quite rare.”
Finders keepers,
she thought. He had been playing with her from the beginning. “And it is rather valuable. With its historical implications, quite valuable. Shall I tell you what that suit might be worth?”
Finders keepers,
she thought. He had been playing with her from the beginning. “And it is rather valuable. With its historical implications, quite valuable. Shall I tell you what that suit might be worth?”
“No, please don’t.” What something was worth was always in the mind of the beholder. The suit had belonged to Mimi; therefore it was priceless to Lacey. She was grateful that it was locked away in storage and Hugh couldn’t get his hands on it.
That bastard.
That bastard.
“Did you have a romance with my great-aunt?” she asked.
“I certainly tried to, but she said no. And kept saying no. She didn’t approve of the little fact that I was engaged.” Lacey laughed inwardly.
You go
,
girl!
“I confess that my engagement was essentially a family arrangement. Rather like a merger. Marilyn and I have been very happy, as it turned out, but in the beginning I’m afraid I failed to take it very seriously.” He paused momentarily to shift his weight and sip his port. “In those days I had to travel to Washington on business quite a lot. We had government contracts, and there were all those clothing regulations and all those brand-new bureaucracies. I met Mimi at the Office of Price Administration. She introduced me to her friend Gloria, a ‘budding designer,’ she said, and I hired her. And Gloria turned out to be a brilliant addition to the factory.”
You go
,
girl!
“I confess that my engagement was essentially a family arrangement. Rather like a merger. Marilyn and I have been very happy, as it turned out, but in the beginning I’m afraid I failed to take it very seriously.” He paused momentarily to shift his weight and sip his port. “In those days I had to travel to Washington on business quite a lot. We had government contracts, and there were all those clothing regulations and all those brand-new bureaucracies. I met Mimi at the Office of Price Administration. She introduced me to her friend Gloria, a ‘budding designer,’ she said, and I hired her. And Gloria turned out to be a brilliant addition to the factory.”
Lacey took a deep breath. “And then you and Gloria had an affair.”
“My, my. Who have you been talking to? I suppose you have proof? But then again, why wouldn’t you—you have the suit and that incredible gown. You seem to have a gift for this sort of thing.” He looked away and nodded. “Yes, we had an affair. It was quite ... passionate. Gloria was wild, and hungry. And ambitious. And once she sank her teeth into an idea, she never let go.”
Lacey had picked up a picture-perfect strawberry from the buffet table; it exactly matched her polished fingernails. She was poised to pop it in her mouth.
“You remind me a little of Gloria, as well as Mimi. And that brings me to my point.” Hugh cleared his throat. “I’d like to offer you a job with Bentley’s.”
Work for Hugh the B?
“You what?” She could feel her jaw drop. “A job with Bentley’s? In what capacity?”
“You what?” She could feel her jaw drop. “A job with Bentley’s? In what capacity?”
“Whatever you like, my dear. Communications director or something. Write your own job description. Research on our competitors, or fashion trends, or the next big thing. I think you would be good at that, very good. And the compensation would be outstanding, I promise you.”
“I don’t understand.” She realized she had forgotten to breathe for a moment.
“Bentley’s is a global company. Expand your horizons, Lacey. You could see the world in style. Think of it, traveling to Paris and Milan. Fashion Week in Paris—ah, that’s something you should experience.”
“Paris?”
“Why not? We have quite an operation in Paris. You could be based there if you like. I suppose you’ve seen Paris on a tourist’s budget? Well, this would be something quite different.”
Living in Paris?
She had always longed to see Paris. But there was no chance of
The Eye
ever sending her abroad. New York once a year was a struggle. The glamorous life of the fashion world, seductive and multifaceted, beckoned to her with its promise of parties and travel and beautiful clothes. Part of her had always wanted glamour.
And Paris?
She had always longed to see Paris. But there was no chance of
The Eye
ever sending her abroad. New York once a year was a struggle. The glamorous life of the fashion world, seductive and multifaceted, beckoned to her with its promise of parties and travel and beautiful clothes. Part of her had always wanted glamour.
And Paris?
chapter 30
Hugh Bentley steadied himself with his walking stick and stood before her. “You’d stay in the best hotels, wear fabulous clothes, experience life at its finest,” he promised. “A little pied-à-terre in Montmarte? I can see you there now—”
Lacey thought for a long moment, the strawberry still in her fingers. She had no idea how long she stood there, frozen. Hugh seemed to have all the time in the world. But then she wondered what strings were attached. Even halfway around the world, she realized there would still be strings attached, strings held by Hugh Bentley. He offered her a glittering ruby apple—with a poisoned worm hidden inside. She put the strawberry down.
“So Paris would be—my purchase price? If you could buy me?”
“Quite the contrary—your talents would be priceless to me. You would be fairly compensated.”
“You think you can shut me up?”
“Not at all. You’d be speaking for Bentley’s. You can say whatever you please. So what do you say?”
“Did you order the car explosion at my office?”
“My dear, that’s hardly my style. I have many other powers of persuasion.”
“Money? Dreams? Glamour?”
“Money makes dreams come true. You must have dreams of your own.”
Lacey took a deep breath.
It must run in the family,
she thought, remembering Belinda’s offer. “I do have dreams, Hugh Bentley. And I would never work for you. It would be a nightmare.” Hugh took a step back. “Now please tell me what really happened to Gloria Adams that day, May eleventh, 1944.”
It must run in the family,
she thought, remembering Belinda’s offer. “I do have dreams, Hugh Bentley. And I would never work for you. It would be a nightmare.” Hugh took a step back. “Now please tell me what really happened to Gloria Adams that day, May eleventh, 1944.”
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