trend, antiques dealers jump on it and the value goes through the roof.
He single-handedly drove Hausenfraus dustpans from the three-hundred-dollar range to the three-thousand-dollar range by saying they would be the quaint kitchen accessory of the season.
Now he’s saying I’m inspired? I might faint.
“What I like even more, is the way viewers connect with you.” He levels his gaze on me and pushes out of his chair. “Your ratings are off the charts in the forty to sixty-five age bracket, which is the absolute sweet spot for antiquers.”
I glance again at Spencer, but he’s looking at his nails perturbedly.
“You’re not just a talented young woman with potential. You’ve got heart.” Miles places a hand on my shoulder. “You really care about the people in the lines, and it shows. Viewers love you.”
The room falls silent, and I need to say something. God, don’t let me sound like a drip.
“I-I guess I empathize with them. They love these items so much, and when we tell them they’re worth hundreds or thousands of dollars—”
“It validates their love.” Miles nods. “You truly get it. Unlike Mr. Freeze over here.”
He cuts his eyes at Spencer, and I take a quick pivot. “Spencer simply has a different approach. His personality is different from mine.”
“Yes, yes. I know.” Miles grins, and points at my colleague. “He’s the Simon Cowell of Antiques Today, no getting mired down in emotionalism. And he has his fans, don’t get me wrong. I’m simply impressed.”
I glance down at my hands clasped in my lap. “I wouldn’t know half the things I know if it weren’t for Spencer.”
“Oh, please.” Spencer stands, rising to his full six-foot-two slender height in a sleek charcoal suit, pocket square perfectly folded and in place. “Enough false modesty, and stop talking about me as if I’m not present. I discovered this young woman in her father’s store in Greenville. I don’t need to hear about her country-girl heart. I recognized it at once as a strength.”
Miles presses his lips together in a smile, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say he’s been yanking Spencer’s chain. I feel like I might understand the office politics a little better. Spencer is the snob, and Miles is the big dog who brings him down a peg. It’s how they relate.
I’m ruminating this discovery when Miles turns to me. “I’ve decided to put you over the Southeast region.”
My eyes flash wide, and I choke on air. “I’m sorry… You—You want me to be—”
“The head of all our events from Tennessee to Florida, Mississippi to South Carolina. It’s our second largest region, and a very active one. Lots of travel. Is that something that would interest you, Miss Sales?”
Now I know I’m going to faint, but I snatch my last thread of composure. “Yes, sir. I would be very interested in that. Thank you, sir.”
“Good. It’s done then. Spencer will move to the Northeastern region, and you’ll take over his old territory. I’ll leave you two to work out the details.” He goes back to his desk as we head for the door. “And for God’s sake, call me Miles.”
“Thank you, Miles.”
We step outside and close the door, and I fall back against the wall to catch my breath. “Holy shit! Did that just happen?”
My palm presses against my chest, and my heart is beating so fast. I look up at Spencer, and I know I’m smiling like a crazy person. What I don’t expect is to see him smiling back, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes.
“Good work, Daisy.” He slaps me on the shoulder, his voice gleeful. I’ve never heard Spencer sound gleeful in the two years I’ve known him. “I’ve wanted the Northeast region since I started, and I knew when I met you in your father’s shop, you’d be the one to help me get it.”
I know what he means. Northeast is where all the great finds are located—treasures from the American Revolution, the Founding Fathers, and the early days of our country.
My nose wrinkles and I squint up at him. “So all this time, our friendship has been a ploy to help you get a promotion?”
“You make it sound like one of us is getting screwed. You wanted to be with Antiques Today, right?” I nod. “I wanted the Eastern Seaboard. It’s what we in the business call a win-win.”
I guess I can’t argue with that, although my stomach is still churning uncomfortably. My hand drifts to my throat, and my nose curls.
Spencer’s voice turns fussy. “If you