My eyes close again and my head falls back on the couch arm, this time in contentment. “You can’t handle it. Give me all the art and I’ll make sure it goes to a good home. And I’m taking the commission for it too.”
“Cute. But really, I’ve got this collector who wants to sell his entire collection, and it’s a random selection but he doesn’t want to bring any focus on him. So I’m struggling with how to present the show.”
“Well, split it up then. No better guarantee of anonymity than the collection being sold at different themed shows.”
“I thought of that. But he wants the items sold fast.”
“Tell him he can’t have everything he wants.” I’m much less accommodating when it’s not my own clients on the line.
“I would give so much money to be able to tell him that to his face. But I don’t want to lose a client...”
“I’m not doing your job for you,” I say in disbelief. “But tell me what the pieces are—just because I’m bored and it’ll be a good mental exercise.”
“They’re all over the place. But mostly it boils down to modern to contemporary art and wine.”
“Hmm....what’s the quality of the pieces?”
“It’s all over the place as well.”
I’m reminded of an idea. But I’m not going to give it to him just like that. “Why are you asking me for help?”
“Because we’re colleagues.”
“No, we’re competitors.”
“Only technically,” he says, dismissing my concern. “Now, don’t you want to tell me how I should structure this sale? And rub it in that you figured it out when I couldn’t?”
“Maybe. Let me ask you something without knowing what it is, and I’ll give you the idea.” Deals I can work with. Contracts and negotiating for consideration make me comfortable. Whatever is happening with Gavin makes me uncomfortable, but if I can bring us back to the world of mutually beneficial deals, it will make me feel better being around him.
“I don’t even get to know what it’s about? Just the general theme?”
“Nope.”
Gavin looks at me for what seems like a long time. “Okay. Fire away.”
“Why don’t you stand up to your dad when he takes a sale from you?”
“Wow. Was not expecting that. But a deal’s a deal.” Gavin falls silent. “When I was growing up, everything came easy. School, athletics, interning at the auction house...”
“You are so unlikeable, Golden Boy.”
“And yet you do like me.” He winks at me.
I stare at him, not responding to the ridiculous accusation or that ridiculous flirty wink.
“Anyway, it all came easy. Now I work for Carlyle’s, and every now and then I disagree with Dad. It’s not often, but he’s always so adamant, I give in. It’s not easy to argue with someone so stubborn.” He looks forward out the window to avoid looking at me.
I snort, knowing exactly how it is to argue with a stubborn auctioneer.
Gavin keeps going. “And he does have the most experience—he’s probably right. What’s the point of debating when he has great ideas?”
“Just because he has good ideas doesn’t mean yours aren’t too. Gina was really impressed with whatever you said about cars.”
I would never have expected Gavin Carlyle to be a little insecure when it came to his father. I guess it makes sense; he’s been handed everything on a silver platter and he doesn’t know what it’s like to fight for the job. I already know he likes the path of least resistance.
That was never an option for me. If I did that, I would be planning a charity event right now instead of fighting for this sale. Another way we’re very different people.
“I do have good ideas, sometimes. But not right now, so can you live up to your end of the bargain?” He waves his hand, telling me to get on with it. And that he’s done sharing intimate details with me.
