‘I can request you, you know.’ Rob told him. ‘So if things get light, let me know.’
Greg nodded, digging into a beet soup. It was stone cold and made absolutely no sense on such a frigid day. He had only ordered it because the old lady had barked ‘beet soup?’ at him and he had nodded, afraid to contradict her. He was hungry, but food was far from his mind.
The men ate in an enjoyable silence for a while, until Greg finally broke it when the beers arrived. ‘I feel bad asking, seeing as you’ve already done so much, but do you think you could check something out for me?’
Rob nodded uncertainly and listened as Greg outlined his request.
When he’d finished, his friend looked at him as if he was crazy. ‘You’re sure about this?’
Greg stiffened. ‘What – the proposal or the favour?’
‘Well … the favour of course. I’ve got to tell you, Christmas morning could be a little tricky, but I’ll certainly ask. Will’s a buddy – he might OK it.’
‘Thanks man, I owe you a lot.’
‘You sure do.’ Rob took a swig of his coffee. ‘So you really think Karen’s the one?’
‘I know it.’
‘How is she feeling about the big lifestyle change?’ he asked carefully. ‘Shit-hot broker to lowly shutterbug?’
Greg let out a breath. ‘It’s been hard on her, I know that. But we'll get through it. There are worse things,’ he added, thinking of what his poor dad had been dealing with.
Definitely worse things.
26
Outside the gallery, Holly fumbled with her phone for a moment as she juggled her handbag. She pulled her coat tighter around her as a brisk arctic blast of air hit her in the face.
‘I’m sorry, Jessica, I’m here. Sorry, juggling a bit, this weather is pretty rough today.’ Holly smiled into the phone, just as another torrent of wind flung a strand of hair in her mouth. ‘Eck, OK, out of the wind now.’ She moved into a doorway that provided a small bit of shelter.
‘No problem,’ Margot Mead’s assistant said. ‘I’ve been in the penthouse since six a.m. Most times I can barely remember what sunlight is.’
Holly bit her lip, thinking that working for a woman like that was probably no easy task. She was already picturing Jessica as one of those twenty-two year olds who wore black from head to toe, invested in spray tans and had bleach-blonde hair.
She probably bought expensive Christian Louboutin heels with her below-average pay-cheque, and chose to eat Ramen noodles in her tiny apartment. All just so she could keep up with appearances. But then again, that was the life of a young, trendy New Yorker who was probably desperate to break into the upper echelons of the city.
‘Well, I hope you get out soon. The winter weather is rather lovely, so long as the wind doesn’t blow you over. Days like today remind me of a snow globe. From the outside everything looks fine, then you shake it and it all gets jumbled up.’
There was silence on the other end of the line, as if Jessica was thinking about the analogy. When she finally answered, she said, ‘Huh, I guess I’m more of a beach girl.’
Of course she was, Holly thought with a smile. Quickly, she changed the subject.
‘So you were calling about the egg charm. What can you tell me?’
‘Well, there’s good news and bad news. The good news is when you sent over the photograph I immediately recognised the charm as one that was earmarked as a prize for one of our bigger benefits. We kept records of the purchase, but unfortunately the bad news is, we don’t keep records as to who might have won it.’
‘Oh, right,’ Holly said glumly, her mind racing to consider other options. ‘So, there is no record at all of the winner?’
‘Nothing,’ answered Jessica, reconfirming her own statement.
A thought occurred to her. ‘You said it was used at a benefit?’
‘Yes, as I said, Ms Mead is involved with many charities.’
‘Great. So what was the purpose of this particular benefit – I mean what charity was it in aid of?’ She was wondering again about the pink ribbon charm.
‘I’m not sure about that – we’re involved with lots of big events. It was bought in Autumn last year, so it could have been one of many. There was a breast cancer event that would have been in October … ’ Holly heard a shuffle of paper and a pause. ‘Then there was the environmental “thing” in November, and then the children’s benefit in December.’
