The Promise - By Danielle Steel Page 0,65
query.
“Did she know whom you represent?” As though that would change everything. Michael concealed a smile, as did Ben. Marion had such overwhelming pride in the firm, she expected everyone to want to do business with them.
“Yes. I'm afraid that didn't sway her. If anything, it seemed to anger her more.”
“Anger her?” For the first time all morning there was color in Marion's face, but her expression was grim. Who did she think she was, this young woman who turned up her nose at Cotter-Hillyard?
“Well, maybe anger is the wrong word. Maybe scared her off would be more appropriate.” It wouldn't, but it suited the need of the moment. To pacify Marion. The two bright red spots in her cheeks began to fade, to everyone's relief, especially Ben's.
“Is she worth pursuing?”
“I think so. And we brought back some samples of her work to show you. I hope you'll agree.”
“How did you get samples of her work if she wouldn't agree to discuss the job with you?”
“We bought them from her gallery. It was an extravagance, but if there's any problem with it, I'd be happy to buy tham from the firm myself. She does beautiful work.” And with that, Wendy quietly went to a table near the back wall and came back with a good-sized portfolio from which she took three very handsome color photographs Marie had shot in San Francisco. One was a park scenes, its composition simple; it showed an old man seated on a bench, watching some small children at play. The picture could have been sentimental, but wasn't: it was compassionate. The second was a wharf scene, the vitality of its crowds not detracting from the grinning shrimp vendor who dominated the foreground. And finally, a shimmering view of San Francisco at dusk—the city as tourists and residents alike loved to see it. Ben said nothing. He merely propped up the photographs and stood back. They were enlarged so that everyone could see clearly how fine the work was. Even Marion sat in silence for a long time, before finally nodding.
“You're right. She is worth pursuing.”
“I'm glad you agree.”
“Mike?” She turned to her son, but he seemed lost in thought as he looked at the work. There was something haunting and familiar about the quality of the art, the nature of the subjects. He wasn't sure what it was, but it instantly put him in a pensive mood that he fought to shake off. He wasn't sure why the photographs bothered him as they did, but even he had to agree that they were remarkably good work and would enhance any building with the Cotter-Hillyard name on it.
“Do you like them as much as I do?” Marion persisted. He looked at his mother with a silent, sober nod. “Ben, how do we get her?” Marion wasted no time.
“I wish I knew.”
“Money, obviously. What sort of girl is she? Did you meet her at all?”
“Oddly enough, I met her the last time I was in San Francisco. She's a strikingly beautiful girl. In an almost unreal way. She's almost too perfect. All you can do is stare at her. She's poised, pleasant—when she wants to be—and obviously gifted. Used to be an artist, before she took up photography. She looked expensively dressed so I don't suppose she's starving. In fact, the gallery owner said that she has some sort of sponsor. An older man. A doctor I think he said, a famous plastic surgeon. At any rate, she doesn't need the money. And that's really all I know.”
“Then maybe money isn't the answer.” But suddenly Marion looked as pensive as her son. She had had a mad, unreasonable thought. It would be an outrageous coincidence, but what if … “How old is this girl?”
“Hard to say. She was wearing kind of a big hat the first time I met her; it sort of hid her face. But I'd say she's … I don't know, twenty-four, twenty-five maybe. At the most twenty-six. Why?” He didn't understand that question at all.
“I was just curious. I'll tell you what, Ben. I'm sure you and Wendy did your best, and it's quite possible that there's no getting to this girl at all, but I'd like to give it a try. Leave me the information, and I'll get in touch with her myself. I have to be in San Francisco anyway, sometime in the next few weeks. Maybe she'll feel more awkward turning down an old woman than a young man.”
Ben smiled