Lane, was unconscious that she would have the dream in which her dead sister appears to her.
Piper was admiring the stagehands’ work when she noticed that Quent Raynor had entered. Hands on hips, Quent squinted as he perused the set. The area got noticeably quieter while everyone waited for his reaction.
“It’s still not glamorous enough,” Quent proclaimed, taking off his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose. “It needs more glitz.”
Chapter 32
W alden’s was within walking distance of the Metropolitan School for Girls. During his lunch period, Casey made his way on the shoveled sidewalks one block over and a few blocks down, entering the elegant storefront on Madison Avenue. A security guard was stationed just inside the door.
“Hiya, Joe,” said Casey. He cupped his hands and blew on them. “It’s cold out there.”
“Hello, Mr. Walden.”
“My brother around?”
“Yes, sir. He’s downstairs.”
“Thanks, Joe.” Casey strode through the luxurious showroom, passing velvet-lined display cases containing exquisitely designed necklaces, bracelets, and earrings twinkling with diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and sapphires. He noticed there was easily more sales staff behind the cases than there were customers on the other side. Casey rationalized that Mondays were always slow.
The elevator took him down one floor to the workrooms. Six artisans were bent over well-lit jewelers’ benches. Four of them worked on pieces that would find their way upstairs to the display cases in the showroom. The other two artisans fashioned specially ordered pieces, filling specific requests made by customers in advance.
The room led to another space, where tables supported a lathe, a grinder, a polisher, hammers, casting equipment, and a sonic cleaner. There was also a separate ventilated soldering room and an area where large rectangular tanks were outfitted for electroplating gold and silver. Containers of chemicals were carefully lined up on shelves along one wall.
Casey found Arthur watching as a shining silver teapot was pulled from one of the tanks.
“Can you imagine?” asked Arthur after the brothers shook hands. “This teapot is old, Victorian. Its beauty lay not only in the graceful and ornate design, but in the patina it had acquired over the last century. Yet its owner, who actually bought it at an antique show, mind you, wants it to look like new. I told her she was ruining both the aesthetic and monetary value of the piece. She didn’t care.”
“Just goes to show that money doesn’t buy taste,” said Casey.
“True enough,” huffed Arthur. “Some of the people moving in around here are making money hand over fist but you should see the things they order. Dripping with stones, but not in a good way.”
“I didn’t think that would be a problem for you,” said Casey.
“Oh, I don’t mind selling as much as I can; it offends me if the stones aren’t set off artfully and with taste. The gaudy things some people want are repulsive.” Arthur shook his head in disgust.
“I want to talk to you about something, Arthur.”
“Shoot.”
“Privately.”
“Don’t mind me,” said the electroplate technician. “I’m going to lunch.”
“Have a seat, Casey,” said Arthur, waving to a couple of metal chairs.
“I’ll get right to the point,” said Casey as he sat. “I could use a hundred thousand.”
“Dollars?” asked Arthur. “So could I.”
“I mean it, Arthur. The wedding is coming up and I need the money.”
“I’m not in a position to take it out of the business accounts right now,” Arthur said seriously. “Times are tight, Casey.”
“I thought you just told me that all your nouveau riche customers are buying up a storm.” Outwardly calm, Casey stared at the shelves on the wall. Inside, he was seething. “Let’s get it out in the open, Arthur,” he said. “You don’t want me to marry Glenna. You don’t even like her.”
“That’s ridiculous,” said
Piper was admiring the stagehands’ work when she noticed that Quent Raynor had entered. Hands on hips, Quent squinted as he perused the set. The area got noticeably quieter while everyone waited for his reaction.
“It’s still not glamorous enough,” Quent proclaimed, taking off his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose. “It needs more glitz.”
Chapter 32
W alden’s was within walking distance of the Metropolitan School for Girls. During his lunch period, Casey made his way on the shoveled sidewalks one block over and a few blocks down, entering the elegant storefront on Madison Avenue. A security guard was stationed just inside the door.
“Hiya, Joe,” said Casey. He cupped his hands and blew on them. “It’s cold out there.”
“Hello, Mr. Walden.”
“My brother around?”
“Yes, sir. He’s downstairs.”
“Thanks, Joe.” Casey strode through the luxurious showroom, passing velvet-lined display cases containing exquisitely designed necklaces, bracelets, and earrings twinkling with diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and sapphires. He noticed there was easily more sales staff behind the cases than there were customers on the other side. Casey rationalized that Mondays were always slow.
The elevator took him down one floor to the workrooms. Six artisans were bent over well-lit jewelers’ benches. Four of them worked on pieces that would find their way upstairs to the display cases in the showroom. The other two artisans fashioned specially ordered pieces, filling specific requests made by customers in advance.
The room led to another space, where tables supported a lathe, a grinder, a polisher, hammers, casting equipment, and a sonic cleaner. There was also a separate ventilated soldering room and an area where large rectangular tanks were outfitted for electroplating gold and silver. Containers of chemicals were carefully lined up on shelves along one wall.
Casey found Arthur watching as a shining silver teapot was pulled from one of the tanks.
“Can you imagine?” asked Arthur after the brothers shook hands. “This teapot is old, Victorian. Its beauty lay not only in the graceful and ornate design, but in the patina it had acquired over the last century. Yet its owner, who actually bought it at an antique show, mind you, wants it to look like new. I told her she was ruining both the aesthetic and monetary value of the piece. She didn’t care.”
“Just goes to show that money doesn’t buy taste,” said Casey.
“True enough,” huffed Arthur. “Some of the people moving in around here are making money hand over fist but you should see the things they order. Dripping with stones, but not in a good way.”
“I didn’t think that would be a problem for you,” said Casey.
“Oh, I don’t mind selling as much as I can; it offends me if the stones aren’t set off artfully and with taste. The gaudy things some people want are repulsive.” Arthur shook his head in disgust.
“I want to talk to you about something, Arthur.”
“Shoot.”
“Privately.”
“Don’t mind me,” said the electroplate technician. “I’m going to lunch.”
“Have a seat, Casey,” said Arthur, waving to a couple of metal chairs.
“I’ll get right to the point,” said Casey as he sat. “I could use a hundred thousand.”
“Dollars?” asked Arthur. “So could I.”
“I mean it, Arthur. The wedding is coming up and I need the money.”
“I’m not in a position to take it out of the business accounts right now,” Arthur said seriously. “Times are tight, Casey.”
“I thought you just told me that all your nouveau riche customers are buying up a storm.” Outwardly calm, Casey stared at the shelves on the wall. Inside, he was seething. “Let’s get it out in the open, Arthur,” he said. “You don’t want me to marry Glenna. You don’t even like her.”
“That’s ridiculous,” said
Similar Books
