enthusiastically, showing no interest in the painting.
They both looked at him. Lyra noticed that the jaunty red beret was sitting at a precarious angle. She leaned forward to adjust the clip that kept the little red cap in place.
“Come on,” Nancy coaxed. “What’s one more little art auction at a small gallery? It won’t even cause a ripple.”
“You know as well as I do that if word gets out that Chimera is actually a dust bunny, the bottom would drop out of his market overnight,” Lyra said. “Mr. Anonymous would want all of his money refunded. Worse yet, he’d probably sue both of us. Not only would we both be ruined financially, our reputations would be shot.”
“Okay, okay, we’ll make it a very private auction. Only the most exclusive and discerning connoisseurs of modern art will be invited. And Mr. Anonymous, of course. We’ll keep it very hush-hush. The collectors will love it. The bidding will go crazy. We’ll get rich.”
“Well—”
“This is our chance to make some really big money, Lyra. Time to go for the amber ring, my friend. Why the hesitation? This isn’t like you. Where’s that gutsy Dore spirit? Is this the woman who tried to sue Amber Inc.?”
“This is the woman who is knee-deep in debt because she tried to sue Amber Inc.,” Lyra said dryly. “But when you’re right, you’re right. This is a golden opportunity. Let’s do it.” She paused, glancing at the copy of the Herald. “I can’t believe they called me an antiquities consultant instead of a tuner.”
“An antiquities consultant with an exclusive clientele. They made it sound as though Cruz Sweetwater, himself, was one of your clients.”
“Wonder where the press got that idea?”
“Something tells me it came straight from the Amber Inc. publicity department,” Nancy said. “And that means they got it from Cruz Sweetwater. His way of trying to make amends, I’ll bet. In the art and antiquities world, you can’t buy publicity like that. He did you a huge favor. It was a very romantic thing to do, if you ask me.”
Lyra exhaled slowly, thinking about it. “You know, you’re right. Dinner with Cruz Sweetwater might be good for my career.”
“That’s it. Tell yourself you’re dating him because the publicity will be good for business.”
Chapter 10
HER PHONE RANG JUST AS SHE OPENED THE BACK ROOM of her shop.
“Dore Tuning and Consulting,” she said, hitting the lights. She watched Vincent scamper across the room to where she kept a locked box of rez-brush paints and a canvas to entertain him during the long workdays.
“Miss Dore, please.”
The voice was male, smooth, authoritative, with just the right amount of upper-class power vibe. Not one of her regulars.
“Speaking,” she said.
“This is Wilson Revere. I understand you’re something of an expert on rare ambers.”
She froze, excitement pulsing through her. It was, of course, entirely possible that there was more than one Wilson Revere in Frequency City. But how many of them would be interested in a tuner who could handle rare ambers?
She cleared her throat and tried to assume an assured tone. “Would this be Wilson Revere of the RezStone corporation?”
He laughed. “One and the same. Sorry, I should have done a better job of introducing myself. Call me Wilson.”
“What can I do for you, uh, Wilson?”
“There’s an auction at the Fairstead Gallery tomorrow afternoon. I understand that there will be some interesting raw stones of rare amber up for sale. One of the specimens is amethyst. The consultant I usually employ for this sort of thing has no experience with that particular variety. I’d like you to attend the preview with me and give me your opinion before I bid. Are you free?”
She gripped the phone tighter. It was all she could do to maintain her cool, professional voice. “Let me check my appointment book.”
“Certainly.”
She forced herself to let a few seconds pass before she spoke to him
They both looked at him. Lyra noticed that the jaunty red beret was sitting at a precarious angle. She leaned forward to adjust the clip that kept the little red cap in place.
“Come on,” Nancy coaxed. “What’s one more little art auction at a small gallery? It won’t even cause a ripple.”
“You know as well as I do that if word gets out that Chimera is actually a dust bunny, the bottom would drop out of his market overnight,” Lyra said. “Mr. Anonymous would want all of his money refunded. Worse yet, he’d probably sue both of us. Not only would we both be ruined financially, our reputations would be shot.”
“Okay, okay, we’ll make it a very private auction. Only the most exclusive and discerning connoisseurs of modern art will be invited. And Mr. Anonymous, of course. We’ll keep it very hush-hush. The collectors will love it. The bidding will go crazy. We’ll get rich.”
“Well—”
“This is our chance to make some really big money, Lyra. Time to go for the amber ring, my friend. Why the hesitation? This isn’t like you. Where’s that gutsy Dore spirit? Is this the woman who tried to sue Amber Inc.?”
“This is the woman who is knee-deep in debt because she tried to sue Amber Inc.,” Lyra said dryly. “But when you’re right, you’re right. This is a golden opportunity. Let’s do it.” She paused, glancing at the copy of the Herald. “I can’t believe they called me an antiquities consultant instead of a tuner.”
“An antiquities consultant with an exclusive clientele. They made it sound as though Cruz Sweetwater, himself, was one of your clients.”
“Wonder where the press got that idea?”
“Something tells me it came straight from the Amber Inc. publicity department,” Nancy said. “And that means they got it from Cruz Sweetwater. His way of trying to make amends, I’ll bet. In the art and antiquities world, you can’t buy publicity like that. He did you a huge favor. It was a very romantic thing to do, if you ask me.”
Lyra exhaled slowly, thinking about it. “You know, you’re right. Dinner with Cruz Sweetwater might be good for my career.”
“That’s it. Tell yourself you’re dating him because the publicity will be good for business.”
Chapter 10
HER PHONE RANG JUST AS SHE OPENED THE BACK ROOM of her shop.
“Dore Tuning and Consulting,” she said, hitting the lights. She watched Vincent scamper across the room to where she kept a locked box of rez-brush paints and a canvas to entertain him during the long workdays.
“Miss Dore, please.”
The voice was male, smooth, authoritative, with just the right amount of upper-class power vibe. Not one of her regulars.
“Speaking,” she said.
“This is Wilson Revere. I understand you’re something of an expert on rare ambers.”
She froze, excitement pulsing through her. It was, of course, entirely possible that there was more than one Wilson Revere in Frequency City. But how many of them would be interested in a tuner who could handle rare ambers?
She cleared her throat and tried to assume an assured tone. “Would this be Wilson Revere of the RezStone corporation?”
He laughed. “One and the same. Sorry, I should have done a better job of introducing myself. Call me Wilson.”
“What can I do for you, uh, Wilson?”
“There’s an auction at the Fairstead Gallery tomorrow afternoon. I understand that there will be some interesting raw stones of rare amber up for sale. One of the specimens is amethyst. The consultant I usually employ for this sort of thing has no experience with that particular variety. I’d like you to attend the preview with me and give me your opinion before I bid. Are you free?”
She gripped the phone tighter. It was all she could do to maintain her cool, professional voice. “Let me check my appointment book.”
“Certainly.”
She forced herself to let a few seconds pass before she spoke to him
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