moved on through the shop without committing to the Chinese pot, but once the front door opened again and another customer arrived, Stacey made a beeline back to her treasure.
“I’ll take it.”
As Stacey made out her check to the Consignment Depot, she told Pat, “Don’t forget to give me a call if anything else good comes in from that estate.”
Chapter 25
The new BMW sedan pulled into the circular drive in front of the stately Tudor mansion. As the driver switched off the ignition, she made the wish she made each and every time she arrived at Nadine Paradise’s home.
God, I wish this house was mine
. But unlike so many wishes that people make, Stacey Spinner knew her wish had a very good chance of coming true.
After her trip to the Consignment Depot she had gone home to change, and then headed right to the beautiful old home.
Stacey swung her jodhpur-clad legs out of the car, her shiny leather riding boots sinking into the crushed-stone covered driveway. Those legs had never known actual contact with a horse, but the equestrian look was meant to look elegantly casual. Everything Stacey did was painstakingly calculated.
Carefully she lifted the large Chinese porcelain pot from the backseat and, holding it close, made her way up the wide fieldstone steps that led to the heavy double doors. Nadine Paradise herself answered the bell.
“Mrs. Paradise! As always, so good to see you. You’re looking so well!” Stacey eyed the brooch anchored to Nadine’s charcoal-gray cashmere dress. “What a beautiful pin!”
Nadine’s thin arms reached up and her fingers delicatelyrubbed the brooch. The crescent of enamel and sapphires preened upon the dark soft wool.
“Thank you, Stacey. Won’t you come in?”
Stacey entered the spacious entry hall, careful to appear nonchalant in the elegant surroundings. Her boots clicked on the marble floor as she caught a look at herself in the enormous, ornate gilded mirror that hung from the mahogany wall. Briefly she imagined herself to be the lady of the house, home from a day of antiquing.
“I’ve been looking forward to seeing this,” Nadine said eagerly, reaching for the porcelain pot in Stacey’s arms. “Even though I really shouldn’t be buying anything,” she added.
“It’s very heavy, Mrs. Paradise. Let me put it down on the table in the conservatory so you can have a good look at it. The colors are just perfect for the room. I thought it might look wonderful with your orchids growing from it.”
As the two women walked across the fine old Oriental rugs on their way to the conservatory, Nadine complimented her interior decorator.
“Stacey, I know why you are so successful. You make your clients feel that you love and care about their homes as much as they do.”
Not
their
homes, Mrs. Paradise. It’s just
your
home I really love
.
Chapter 26
Jackie Kennedy boosted Sotheby’s, Princess Diana advanced Christie’s, and now, thank God, the romance and history of Fabergé was helping Churchill’s
, Clifford Montgomery thought to himself, with a mixture of pleasure and relief. He checked the New York Stock Exchange listings in the
Wall Street Journal
. Churchill’s stock had gained three points since the announcement of the sale.
In the president’s office, Clifford sat back in his red leather chair, momentarily relishing the knowledge that he held options for more than one hundred thousand shares of the auction house’s stock. For him, every quarter-point equaled twenty-five thousand dollars—every point rise, another one hundred thousand dollars. If the stock jumped ten points, Clifford would be one million dollars richer—at least on paper.
All the publicity surrounding the sale of the Moon Egg had been a fantastic perk-up for business. Though the Wall Street professionals thought that the price-earnings ratio was too high, the public didn’t seem to share their concerns. The market was always susceptible to emotions, and the history of the Moon
“I’ll take it.”
As Stacey made out her check to the Consignment Depot, she told Pat, “Don’t forget to give me a call if anything else good comes in from that estate.”
Chapter 25
The new BMW sedan pulled into the circular drive in front of the stately Tudor mansion. As the driver switched off the ignition, she made the wish she made each and every time she arrived at Nadine Paradise’s home.
God, I wish this house was mine
. But unlike so many wishes that people make, Stacey Spinner knew her wish had a very good chance of coming true.
After her trip to the Consignment Depot she had gone home to change, and then headed right to the beautiful old home.
Stacey swung her jodhpur-clad legs out of the car, her shiny leather riding boots sinking into the crushed-stone covered driveway. Those legs had never known actual contact with a horse, but the equestrian look was meant to look elegantly casual. Everything Stacey did was painstakingly calculated.
Carefully she lifted the large Chinese porcelain pot from the backseat and, holding it close, made her way up the wide fieldstone steps that led to the heavy double doors. Nadine Paradise herself answered the bell.
“Mrs. Paradise! As always, so good to see you. You’re looking so well!” Stacey eyed the brooch anchored to Nadine’s charcoal-gray cashmere dress. “What a beautiful pin!”
Nadine’s thin arms reached up and her fingers delicatelyrubbed the brooch. The crescent of enamel and sapphires preened upon the dark soft wool.
“Thank you, Stacey. Won’t you come in?”
Stacey entered the spacious entry hall, careful to appear nonchalant in the elegant surroundings. Her boots clicked on the marble floor as she caught a look at herself in the enormous, ornate gilded mirror that hung from the mahogany wall. Briefly she imagined herself to be the lady of the house, home from a day of antiquing.
“I’ve been looking forward to seeing this,” Nadine said eagerly, reaching for the porcelain pot in Stacey’s arms. “Even though I really shouldn’t be buying anything,” she added.
“It’s very heavy, Mrs. Paradise. Let me put it down on the table in the conservatory so you can have a good look at it. The colors are just perfect for the room. I thought it might look wonderful with your orchids growing from it.”
As the two women walked across the fine old Oriental rugs on their way to the conservatory, Nadine complimented her interior decorator.
“Stacey, I know why you are so successful. You make your clients feel that you love and care about their homes as much as they do.”
Not
their
homes, Mrs. Paradise. It’s just
your
home I really love
.
Chapter 26
Jackie Kennedy boosted Sotheby’s, Princess Diana advanced Christie’s, and now, thank God, the romance and history of Fabergé was helping Churchill’s
, Clifford Montgomery thought to himself, with a mixture of pleasure and relief. He checked the New York Stock Exchange listings in the
Wall Street Journal
. Churchill’s stock had gained three points since the announcement of the sale.
In the president’s office, Clifford sat back in his red leather chair, momentarily relishing the knowledge that he held options for more than one hundred thousand shares of the auction house’s stock. For him, every quarter-point equaled twenty-five thousand dollars—every point rise, another one hundred thousand dollars. If the stock jumped ten points, Clifford would be one million dollars richer—at least on paper.
All the publicity surrounding the sale of the Moon Egg had been a fantastic perk-up for business. Though the Wall Street professionals thought that the price-earnings ratio was too high, the public didn’t seem to share their concerns. The market was always susceptible to emotions, and the history of the Moon
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