‘Gregorio, good to see you!’
Greg smiled, immediately recognising the distinctive Italian accent, and turned around to be met with Gennaro’s smiling face. The tan he was sporting was definitely not Manhattan in origin.
‘Hey, have a good time in Barbados?’
The other man looked taken aback. ‘Yes, fantastic. But how did you know?’
‘I swung by the gallery the other day and met with the wrath of Sofia. She was less than impressed about that, you know.’
‘Yes.’ Gennaro expression was sheepish. ‘Which is why I am making it up to her.’ He nodded across the room towards a dark-haired woman in a silver evening gown whom Greg immediately identified as the gallery manager. ‘I didn’t have a date for tonight, so she is happy. For the moment at least.’
Greg shook his head indulgently. ‘You’re such a dog.’
‘Don’t I know it, buddy? Best-of-breed too.’ He grinned proudly. ‘What were you doing at the gallery anyway?’
Greg filled him in on what had happened since he last saw him, and that the woman at the gallery was likely in possession of his mother’s bracelet. When he finished, Gennaro’s mouth was shaped in the form of an ‘O’.
‘Holly O’Neill? It was your mother’s bracelet that she showed me? I wish I could have known.’
‘O’Neill?’ Greg repeated. So now he had her full name. Whether or not he could do anything with the information was another matter.
Gennaro nodded. ‘Yes, thinking back, and remembering what she told me, she was trying very hard to get the bracelet back to you. She found me through a horseshoe, and when I showed her my father’scorno, she said it added a little more to the picture she was painting about the owner. Smart and sexy, eh?’
Greg listened intently to his friend, taking in every word.
So Holly really was trying to trace his mother back through the individual charms. That took a lot of dedication. The notion made him feel heartened, if she was putting so much time and energy into the search, that it was unlikely she’d just give up and let the bracelet be sold on to somebody else. Hopefully she identified the importance of the bracelet to Cristina in sentimental terms.
Gennaro scrunched up his face, as if trying to recall what else Holly had told him about her quest. ‘And do you know,’ he added, ‘she also mentioned that she had information about a charm related to a benefit? I think it was an egg?’
Greg nearly choked on his Scotch. ‘The egg my mom won as a prize at the Met Gallery?’
‘I don’t know about that, but I do recall her asking me if I knew a Margot …what was her name now?’
Greg’s pulse quickened. ‘Mead, Margot Mead. Did she definitely mention her? She’s the organiser of this event.’
‘Yes, I believe so.’
Greg couldn’t believe that Holly had made another connection. She really must have been doing everything in her power to get the bracelet back. He bit his lip.
‘Keep an eye on that Scotch for me, will you?’ he told his friend. ‘I have to go and find the woman I just tried to avoid.’
Thankfully, Margot Mead was easy to find, and was holding court in pretty much the same place as Greg had left her. However, getting through the mass of people who were surrounding her, vying for her attention, was not so easy.
Not wanting to be rude and push his way through, he looked for a way to get closer. Spotting his father, who was not more than an arm’s length away, he gently made his way to Jeff’s side.
‘Dad,’ Greg said, tapping his father’s shoulder. ‘Can you get Margot’s attention?’ he said. ‘I don’t want to butt in.’
Jeff nodded. ‘Margot? Excuse me? Margot? Could I talk to you just a moment?’
Margot turned her attention to Jeff quizzically. She looked to the woman who had been talking to her, and held up a finger.
‘Can’t get enough of me, Jeff?’ she laughed.
‘Actually, I think my son needs you.’
She turned her attention to Greg but, before she could get a word out, he launched into what he had just learned from Gennaro.
‘Margot, I need to know something. Did someone, a woman actually, recently come to you about a bracelet? Someone named Holly?’
