Venus in Love (22 page)

“Is that look for me or the bacon, because one or the other is going to get attacked and I need to be prepared.” Lee grinned.

Morgan made her way to the kitchen. “Well, you better be glad I’m starving and have a meeting in forty-five minutes.”

“No part of that sentence makes me glad.” Lee laughed as she took Morgan into her arms and kissed her sweetly.

“Are you going to the museum today?” Morgan asked as she snuck a piece of bacon from the plate and popped it into her mouth.

“Maybe. But I was thinking about checking out the auction later. I could meet you there after your meeting.” Lee watched Morgan’s mouth as she chewed and then licked her lips.

“I would like that. And then, after I get my Veronese, we can come back here and…” Morgan wagged her eyebrows.

“Now you’re talking.”

“Okay.” Morgan twisted from Lee’s embrace. “If I stay here, I will most definitely miss my meeting. Stay. Over there.” Morgan stepped behind the island. “I’m not sure what time. But I will call you as soon as I’m done. Now eat.” Lee raised her eyebrows at her. “Your breakfast.” Morgan laughed.

*

Morgan was in a fantastic mood, and as the cab pulled up in front of the Christie’s auction house, that feeling doubled. In spite of the reason why she had made the last-minute trip, she was thrilled to finally see Veronese’s
Venus Disarming Cupid.
Madam Dautry greeted her with a wide smile as she climbed out of the car onto the sidewalk. Christie’s Paris was housed in a 1913 mansion built by Rene Sergent, and surrounded by some of Paris’s most prestigious art galleries and museums. Like most of the city, Avenue Matignon in the Eighth Arrondissement was a beautiful and historical gem.

“Madam Dautry, I cannot thank you enough for this,” Morgan said as the two of them made their way inside.

“It is my pleasure. I know how much this piece means to you and your collection.”

Morgan stood quietly as Adele greeted the auctioneer, Monsieur Bateaux, with French pleasantries. She was so very grateful that Madam Dautry had gone through such great lengths to help her with this. Had she not had such an influential connection in the Paris art scene, the entire acquisition would have been destroyed by Rita’s oversight. Although, Morgan felt there was a more sinister and underhanded explanation behind the
mistake
. She followed along as he led them into the showroom.

Hundreds of master works lined the walls in their gilded frames. Brilliant renaissance paintings, tapestries, and sculptures glowed under the lights of the gallery. It was an exquisite exhibition of some of the world’s most splendid twelfth century artwork. And all of it was up for sale. Morgan could only dream of having an endless budget to spend on the masterpieces available to anyone in the world. But she was here for one piece, the one that would be the crowing pinnacle of her debut exhibition. Her heart raced at the excitement of seeing it for the first time. She tried to maintain her composure as they approached the extraordinary work of art.

Morgan was mesmerized. The painting was more beautiful than she had even imagined. Its ethereal softness drew her in closer. Venus’s golden hair and luscious skin stood out in stark contrast to the dark green fabric behind her. The deep rich colors throughout evoked a full and sensual awareness within Morgan. Even as she playfully struggled with her son, Cupid, Venus’s sexuality was at the forefront of Veronese’s interpretation, and his intent was not lost on Morgan.

When Morgan could draw her eyes away from the masterpiece, she looked at Adele. “I need this piece.”

Adele laughed at Morgan’s declaration. “The auction begins at noon, my dear. That’s your chance.”

Morgan could have stood for another hour and a half and stared at each detail and brushstroke. Her connection to the piece was deep and instantaneous. She vowed to herself that she would not leave Paris without it. Reluctantly, Morgan allowed Monsieur Bateaux and Adele to lead her away from the Venus and through the gallery to view the other works. She thought that if she had enough funding left over after winning the Veronese it might be possible to come home with a few extras, within reason of course.

Morgan thumbed through the full color booklet of the available lots. Venus was Lot Number 230 with an opening threshold bid of one point three million. The idea of spending that amount of money on a single piece nearly gave her heart palpitations. Yet, Adele had warned her not to expect paying anything less than five million for it. Morgan was allotted eleven by the board, and she would spend every last dime of it to call that painting hers.
Well, the Dencourt’s.

*

Morgan waited for Lee in the lobby as she watched hundreds of people flood in. When she spotted Lee through the crowd, her heart leapt. She was already anxiously on edge about the auction, and she hoped Lee would be able to talk her down. Instead, her heart increased its pace when Lee smiled at her.

Lee stopped in front of her, and Morgan smiled nervously. “Are you okay?” Lee asked.

“Yeah. I’m fine. I just really want that painting.”

“I guess the preview went well then?”

“Oh my God, Lee. It is extraordinary! I have worked with some of the world’s most beautiful art, but I have never seen something that I connected to so instantly.”

“Then we won’t leave here without it.”

“Well, that’s as long as it doesn’t go over eleven million.” The idea of someone swooping in with an exorbitant bid scared Morgan.

“No worries. Four to five mill, max. You’ve got this in the bag.” Lee smiled, and a small bit of relief settled over her.

Morgan and Lee checked in and received their updated salesroom notice and auction paddles. She was grateful that they had several lots to go before they got to the one she came for, because she had never even been to an auction before. She kept that secret even from Lee. They were ushered into a large auditorium, and Morgan’s heart stopped. “Oh my God.” Morgan barely said the words out loud. There were hundreds of people milling about and chatting. The thrum of the room reverberated in her ears but did little to drown out sound of her pulse rushing in her ears. She stopped cold.

Lee put her hand on Morgan’s back. “It’s fine. Not everyone is here to bid. It’s a social event, the who’s who of pretentious art collectors and socialites.”

Morgan let Lee guide her across the room to a pair of open seats. She looked around the room at the men and women who chuckled and greeted each other with pompous smiles and kisses. It was a side of the art world Morgan had never seen before, but one she had to at least pretend she was comfortable in.

“Ms. Blake, Ms. Dencourt, lovely to see you here.”

Morgan looked up and saw Adele and Director Foillot standing in the aisle. Surprised to see him, Morgan stood and gleefully embraced him. “Director Foillot, it is so wonderful to see you again. Please sit.” Morgan motioned to the two open seats next to hers.

Lee offered a friendly handshake to her friends. “Yes, please.”

Morgan was glad to have the support from the three most important and influential people in her life, even if they weren’t there specifically for her. When the auctioneer took his place behind the podium, the entire room hushed into silence. He welcomed everyone with a brief introduction and announced the first lot with an opening bid of one hundred thousand dollars. He spoke in calm English with a heavy French accent as he acknowledged bids around the room. Morgan had half expected a whirl of waving paddles and shouts of frenzied bidders, but it was far more elegant and subdued than that.

Relaxed millionaires, museum curators, and spectators watched intently but quietly as the bidding ensued. Morgan took mental notes of their casual techniques and nonchalant facial expressions. As long as she reminded herself to stay calm, she could easily play along. When Lee touched her leg, Morgan felt a serene sense of ease, until the auctioneer presented Lot 230, the Veronese. She felt the excitement swell inside her, accompanied by the anxious racing of her heart. He opened the bid as expected at one point five million, but before Morgan could raise her paddle five bidders increased the cost by one hundred thousand in seconds.

Her heart dropped as she watched the currency calculator tick upward with each raise. Lee squeezed her leg, and Morgan flung her paddle into the air. Several eyes flashed in her direction as she raised the bid to two point two million. The rush of adrenaline was quickly overshadowed by several more bids that followed hers. Lee squeezed her leg again, and Morgan bid another hundred thousand. She was suddenly thankful for Lee’s presence and her subtle signals.

At four million dollars, Morgan raised the bid. The competing bidders slowly dwindled to a dedicated handful as the price reached five million. To Morgan’s surprise, they had reached the estimated selling price and quickly exceeded it. Each time Lee gently squeezed her leg Morgan increased her bid. At seven million, the active bidding was between herself and two participants on the phone. “Lee?” She looked at Lee with fear and concern that she may lose the piece.

“Relax. Keep going.”

Morgan flipped her paddle again at eight million, but the phone bidders were now increasing their advances by two hundred and fifty thousand. Morgan froze as the battle continued between the people on the phone, expanding by nearly two million dollars. At ten and a half million, Morgan began to panic and flashed her paddle. It was quickly countered by only one bidder as the other remained silent as he held the phone to his ear. Morgan had only one more shot. Lee squeezed her leg once more, and Morgan offered the full eleven million she was allocated. She held her breath and prayed that she wasn’t countered. Several long and grueling seconds passed as the auctioneer asked for more bids. Silence covered the room like a thick blanket. Spectators flashed glances between Morgan and the man on the phone with her competition.

Morgan heard the auctioneer, “And selling…”

Her heart fluttered with excitement until she heard it: “Eleven two.”

Her fluttering heart dropped like lead into her stomach, and she gasped. She’d lost it. The crowning achievement for the Dencourt and her success as a curator was gone.

*

Lee’s stomach flopped when she heard Morgan’s barely audible gasp. She would have guaranteed that Morgan and the Dencourt would have walked away with the masterpiece. But at the last possible moment, it was ripped from her hands. Lee’s heart broke as she watched the tears well up in Morgan’s eyes. Director Foillot and Adele patted and cooed at her, but Morgan didn’t even notice their attentions. As the auctioneer called final bids, Lee flashed her paddle. “Twelve!” she shouted.

The entire room spun in her direction, including Morgan. “What are you doing?”

“I’m buying a painting.” Lee grinned.

The auctioneer offered the other bidder a chance to counter, and everyone in the room held a collective breath. Seconds passed as he whispered into the phone. He tapped his hand on the wall as he waited for direction from his client. A voice from the front pierced the silence and asked once again for an offer, but the man just shook his head. Morgan gasped beside Lee as the auctioneer’s gavel clapped against the block, “Sold to Ms. Ainsley Dencourt of the Dencourt Gallery.”

The smile on Morgan’s face was enough to melt even the coldest of hearts. Before the next lot was announced, Lee, Morgan, Adele, and Director Foillot made their way out of the auditorium.

When they made it to the lobby Morgan wrapped her arms around Lee’s neck and kissed her hard on the lips. “I can’t believe you did that. The board is going to shit, Lee!”

“I am the board, remember? And if I have to, I’ll pay the overage myself. I told you, we weren’t leaving here without it.” Lee had meant it, she just didn’t know how until that very last moment. Lee loved the way Morgan’s eyes sparkled and breath quickened when she was around beautiful works of art, and she wouldn’t have forgiven herself if she had let that spark slip away.

“Thank you so much, Lee. I don’t know what else to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. That look you are giving me right now is more than enough.” Lee stepped back and grabbed Morgan’s hands. “So, if we are finished here, I have reservations for Chateau le Dencourt this evening.”

“I am all yours.”

Lee’s mind flashed back to the night before, and a fire built deep inside her. “Mmmm. Excellent.” Lee and Morgan said their good-byes and thanks to Director Foillot and Adele and promised that they would stop by the museum before they left Paris. While Lee had never missed an opportunity to wander the Louvre, this time she had much different plans, and they didn’t involve leaving her flat.

Morgan and Lee spent the last few days in Paris visiting all the tourist spots and reenacting their first date complete with the restaurant and a latte. But this time they kissed freely like amorous lovers in the park before they were forced to return home wrapped in each other’s arms.

Morgan was sad to leave Paris but excited to return home with a beautiful woman she simply couldn’t get enough of. She was nearly as excited to get home and jump into the final stages of the exhibition. The beautiful Veronese would arrive within days, and the rest of the collection was proceeding smoothly through cleaning and preparation. As long as Rita was staying on top of the process, but after the auction disaster, she had her doubts. Once the construction was complete and the pieces were mounted, it would be time for the opening. The feat that Morgan was attempting should have taken nearly eighteen months, yet she was determined to make it in six. She was more determined than ever to succeed.

“I’m not sure what I have in the fridge, but would you like to come over for dinner tonight?” Morgan asked as they walked to the airport parking garage and Lee’s car.

“You’re going to cook for me?” Lee smiled as she took Morgan’s hand in hers.

Morgan entwined her fingers and couldn’t help but notice how perfect they fit together. “I’m not really a great cook, but I can make a meatloaf. Wait—I don’t think I have any meat to loaf.”

Lee laughed. “There will be time for a loaf another day. I’ve got stuff at my place. How about I cook for you?”