studied the auctioneer and thrilled to the quick pace of items bought and sold. She’d felt a stirring of excitement she had never known and that was enough to set her on the path that had eventually led her to Manhattan and her entry-level job at Waverly’s.
She’d learned everything she could about the auction world and studied both this house and the other stately auction houses. She had wanted to be part of something amazing and every time she walked into this wonderful old building, she felt as if she’d accomplished her dream. At least, the first part of it.
Charlie made a point of working the auctions here, to support Waverly’s, to help where she could and to continue to learn the ins and outs of a business that seemed to change daily. From the first moment she had stepped inside Waverly’s, she had known that she’d found where she belonged. And the feeling had only intensified since that day.
“You know me,” she said quietly, her gaze sliding across the familiar, the exciting. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
“Excellent. We’ll need as many hands as possible behind the scenes.”
“Sure.” Thankfully, the day-care facility at Waverly’s was open during all the auctions so that employees could leave their children somewhere safe while they worked. Jake did love being with all of his little friends and … She checked her watch. “I’ve gotta go, Justin. Thanks for the grand tour.”
“No problem,” he said, already opening the file she’d brought him to study the provenances. “See you Saturday.”
“Right.” She turned and walked out of the luscious display of jewels that were the stuff of dreams. Taking the elevator up two floors, she eagerly left behind dreams for a chance to see her reality.
“I’m not going to dignify these unfounded rumors with a response,” Ann Richardson said softly, her gaze sweeping the board members gathered around the long, cherrywood conference table. “And I hope I can count on all of you for your support.”
People shifted uncomfortably in their seats, but Vance held perfectly still, his gaze fixed on the woman facing them down with the air of a young queen. Tall and willowy, Ann had her ice-blond hair styled into a perfect, curled-under style that ended at her jawline. Her blue eyes were sharp as she met the stares of the other board members. She wore one of her elegantly tailored business suits—this one black with gray pinstripes—and her chin was lifted at a defiant angle. She looked proud and strong as she silently dared anyone to contradict her.
Vance had always admired Ann Richardson, but never more so than right now. With the article in the newspaper, the entire city would be whispering about her, speculating about her. But it seemed that she had chosen a path to take—steely indifference—and he had to applaud it. If she fought the charges with a vehement argument, it would only spur on the talk. She couldn’t admit they were true—even if they were. The only road she could take was the “no comment” route. By doing it here first, with the board, she would be able to gauge how well it would go over elsewhere.
The board members looked shaken and worried and he knew they were all thinking about the possible ramifications of this situation. If it wasn’t cleared up soon, rumor would become suspicion and suspicion would become fact. Whether or not she was guilty of anything, Ann’s career and reputation could very well be destroyed—along with Waverly’s.
Seconds ticked past and the quiet in the room was deafening. Here on the seventh floor, the boardroom was a study in understated elegance. The walls were a pale beige, the crown molding a stark white. Old masters hung on the walls and a twisted brass sculpture of Atlas balancing the world on his shoulders stood in one corner.
Vance held his peace, since he wanted to hear everyone else’s reactions before he spoke. He knew he wouldn’t have to wait long. It took about ten seconds.
“It’s outrageous is what it is,” George Cromwell sputtered first.
“These innuendoes are baseless,” Ann insisted, her voice calm. “I would never put Waverly’s at risk, and I hope you all know that.”
“Yes, Ann,” George Cromwell said from his seat at the end of the table. “I’m sure we all appreciate your devotion to the company, but this article clearly states that we have a problem.”
Vance saw the flinch Ann couldn’t quite disguise. But since he was the youngest member of the board, he was betting no one else noticed.
“The article is nothing more than rumor and supposition.”
“But it’s smoke,” George insisted. “And people will assume that where there is smoke, there is fire.”
Vance rolled his eyes and shook his head. If there was a cliché, George would find it. At seventy-five, he was long past the age of retiring, but the old fox had no intention of giving up his seat on the board. He liked the power. Liked being able to have a say in things. And right now, it looked as though he was enjoying putting Ann through the wringer.
“How can we take your word for this, when there was clearly enough evidence for this reporter to write his story?”
“Since when does a reporter need to back up a story?” she asked haughtily. “There’s more fiction in the daily papers than you’ll find at the nearest bookstore and you all know it.”
Good point, Vance thought, still regarding their CEO warily. He wished he knew Ann better, but he didn’t. She seemed like a warm, congenial enough person, but she’d made a point of keeping people at a distance, refusing to make friends—and now that strategy just might bite her in the ass.
“People believe what they read,” George intoned darkly.
“George, do hush up.” Edwina Burrows spoke up from the end of the table.
“You know I’m right about this,” the man countered hotly.
As the two older people shot verbal darts at each other, Vance watched Ann. Her mouth worked as if she were grinding her teeth and Vance couldn’t really blame her. It had to be hard, standing in front of this bunch, defending yourself against what was at this point merely rumor.
Finally, she turned to him and asked, “Vance? What about you? As the last remaining Waverly on the board, I value your opinion. Do you believe me?”
He studied her for a long minute. Vance knew that now the others were waiting to hear what he had to say. And he knew that whatever he said would swing sentiment either for or against Ann. His first responsibility was to the company and the thousands of people both here and abroad who depended on Waverly’s for their very livelihoods.
But he also owed Ann his support. She’d stepped into the role of CEO and done a hell of a job. She was smart and capable and had never given him any reason to doubt her motives or her loyalties to the house.
He wasn’t convinced that she was telling the complete truth, though. Like it or not, George had a point. That reporter had picked up on some tidbit of gossip as the basis for the story. But even if there was something between Ann and Dalton, Vance still didn’t believe she would sell out Waverly’s.
He’d like to have all the information before he took a stand one way or the other, but that wasn’t going to happen. What it came down to for Vance was this: Did he trust his gut instincts or not? Bottom line? He always went with his instincts. So he took a chance.
“I believe
