Authors: Traci Tyne Hilton
“Pardon me, Sabrina. My parents are here and I think they can introduce me to some new friends.”
“I’ll be fine. Surely the stag nephew will join us sooner or later. I’d hate to miss that.” Sabrina grinned.
“Oh, Mitzy, you look stunning!” Susan Neuhaus held her at arm’s length and then pulled her in for a warm hug. She draped Mitzy’s arm through her own and introduced her to her friends.
“Melanie, Rodger, this is my beautiful and successful daughter, Mitzy.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Mitzy said with a genuine smile.
“And you as well. Are we really meeting the famous Mitzy Neuhaus of radio, print and everywhere?” Rodger asked, with the deep throaty voice of an elderly smoker.
“From almost everywhere.” Her eyes twinkled with delight as she accepted his compliments.
“Let me tell you, young woman, I heard what you said on the radio last week. That young man deserved a dressing down. I’m not entirely sure why you came back and apologized to him.” He gave her a stern look.
“Oh, Rodger, you spend too much time listening to AM radio,” his younger wife, Melanie chirped.
“You know, Rodger, I had a hard time with it. I wondered what apologizing would do to my reputation as a hard hitting professional. But in the end, I didn’t treat him with brotherly love at the time, did I? He has a problem, but I ought to have redirected his conversation politely and then spoken with him off of the air. In the end I knew I had to apologize to him in the same way that I had injured him, in public, on the air. It was the Christ-like thing to do.”
“I thought it was lovely, Mitzy. I really did. I put my foot in my mouth all the time, but I never have the courage to apologize like you did.” Melanie’s face was full of genuine admiration.
Mitzy couldn’t help but wonder if Melanie wanted her dear old husband to buy her a Victorian mansion.
“Have you looked through the auction catalogue yet?” Mitzy asked Melanie.
“I have. Isn’t the Romanov piece something else? Can you imagine wearing that?” Melanie asked.
“No!” Mitzy laughed. “I’d be afraid to own such an important piece of jewelry. To borrow a phrase, ‘it belongs in a museum.’ But I really like the Belle Époque piece, platinum with sapphires.”
“That was really pretty. It would look perfect with your hair and eyes,” Melanie said.
“Thanks. I have my eye on it tonight. We’ll see how bidding goes,” Mitzy said.
“Dare I ask how business has been? With everything you hear in the papers, I was surprised a realty firm was able to host this evening’s function.”
“Oh, we would love more business, like everyone else, but we will survive this crisis.”
“Come along, ladies,” Roger said abruptly. “Let’s get over to that bar for a real drink.”
The crowd of gentlemen previously at the bar had moved on. Brett saw his parents and sister heading in his direction and stayed put. He thought he would do the nice and make some introductions for Mitzy. He knew how she thought, and knew she was only here to meet people who could still afford to buy property.
Aerin had brought the Wilbers to Brett where they were all chatting as Mitzy’s crowd joined them.
“Mr. Wilber, Mrs. Simonite-Wilber. You remember my parents, Susan and Frank. But I don’t think you’ve met my sister, Mitzy.”
Mitzy smiled and shook Mr. Wilber’s hand. “I’m very pleased to meet you both. I’m delighted by the evening so far, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know how truthfully Mr. Wilber can answer that for you. It looks to be a rather expensive evening for him.” Mrs. Simonite-Wilber had a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
“Indeed?” Mitzy asked.
“Yes, indeed. My little wife here wants me to buy her a royal treasure.” Mr. Wilber squeezed his wife’s arm gently as he spoke.
“He means to say that I want him to ransom my family heirlooms. And if he doesn’t want to do it I will just have to use my own little auction paddle.” She patted her handbag with a thin, shaky hand.
“Your family heirlooms are in the auction catalogue?” Mitzy asked.
“Indeed they are. My Grandmother’s family jewels—Romanov you know. It turns out, they aren’t good enough for the museum anymore so I thought my darling Mr. Wilber ought to purchase them back for me.”
“And your daughter wants me to buy her a new boat. Do you want to tell her you got a necklace instead?” Mr. Wilber crossed his arms on his chest with a harrumph, but didn’t seem as opposed to the idea as he was trying to sound.
“If our daughter loves the river, I don’t see how that is my fault. You were the one who took her out every summer.” And without acknowledging their new acquaintances, Mr. and Mrs. Wilber took their disagreement back in the direction of the auction catalogue.
“I was rather partial to the little Belle Époque piece,” Mitzy said with a smile.
“Of course you were,” Aerin snapped.
Mitzy caught the tone and changed the subject again. “Will any of you brave the lindy hop with me later? Dad?”
Her dad laughed and said yes. And then in the nature of cocktail parties they drifted apart again.
Mitzy came back to her seat at the table and saw Sabrina deep in conversation. All she could see were the broad shoulders and thick black hair of her dinner companion, possibly Adele’s nephew. She got a perfectly clear view when she sat down.
Alonzo. Of course.
“Good evening,” she said coolly.
Sabrina rocked her champagne flute on the table. “Well, Mitzy, you’ll never guess who the stag nephew is. Handsome devil isn’t he?” She patted Alonzo on the arm.
He stiffened. “I noticed that you had a…presence here.” He picked up the table tent and read the welcome from Neuhaus notice again.
Adele rejoined the table at that moment. “Oh good, Alonzo, you are meeting people. I thought you might know Mitzy and Sabrina, since you all are in the same industry.”
Alonzo cleared his throat. “They’ve done a good job with your promotional materials.” He set the tent back in the middle of the table. He had been impressed by the mellow, understated tone to her new logo.
“Thank you,” Mitzy said. “We handled them in-house. You know, I’ve wanted to be a part of this event for years and just this year had the opportunity. That is to say, Aerin, my sister-in-law, has been inviting me for years, but I’ve let my parents take the tickets.” She was rambling a little. The girls in the office were right about one thing, Alonzo was worth looking at. He had deep black eyes and thick stubble on his square chin. His worst feature—make that his best feature, which was the worst part—was that he dimpled very nicely when he got around to smiling. He had tried to make use of those dimples in regards to her office space more than once.
The thought of how rude he had been to her about the office space got her riled up again. She sat up a little straighter, if possible. Her alabaster shoulders glittered in the candlelight, set off by the line of her strapless black dress. “How has your hunt for office space been going, Alonzo?” she asked.
Adele looked at her with surprise. She hadn’t expected that they might know each other well. She looked at Mitzy more carefully and measured the tension in the air.
This might be a very good match indeed,
she thought. Mitzy Neuhaus could keep up with her temperamental, brilliant nephew and frankly, had enough good looks to get his attention. It was obvious she had his attention. So obvious in fact, that Adele wondered why they weren’t already seeing each other.
“I think you know, Mitzy, that there are very few spaces just right for my needs right now. I would love to get to work on renovating an office space. It would give my men some work, give them a job. I hate having them on rolling lay offs.” He took what was supposed to be a casual drink of his coffee, but his fist clenched the cup.
Mitzy’s heart fluttered. It hadn’t occurred to her that he might want her space for that kind of reason. She assumed that he was selfish and bossy and rude—which he was. But apparently, he also cared about his crew. She coughed lightly and sipped her water.
“How’s the radio show?” Alonzo asked, a little grin playing at the corners of his mouth. “I hear you are on more often now.”
Mitzy noticed how closely Adele was watching them and decided to attempt to kill Alonzo with kindness. Or at least with politeness.
“It’s going well. I’m enjoying being on more often. I bet the station would love to have someone like you in to sub for me now and again—someone less bitter.”
He laughed. “If you’ve got more work than you can handle just call me, I’m sure I can fit you in. I’ll be done with my little
Baltimore Street
project soon and have plenty of time for you.”
She choked on her water. “Your what?”
“My little
Baltimore Street
project. I think the bank is going to be very interested in talking to us about it.”
“If you do anything that hurts the value of that family neighborhood—”
“You mean of your
Baltimore Street
rental?”
“It is right next door to the Victorian. Debbie doesn’t want to live by a business.” She took a deep cleansing yoga breath. This was neither the time nor the place.
“Ow!” Sabrina had been jostled by someone behind her. She turned to look. “Watch out. Will you?” She seemed to be speaking to no one, but a well dressed waiter or busser or someone was moving along behind them and must have knocked into her. “I don’t know what he got me with, but it was quite a jolt! Sorry, guys.” Sabrina wasn’t a bit sorry for interrupting. Even tipsy, she could tell it was time to distract them from what could have become an ugly scene.
The auction finally came, after all of the dancing and what was a good, but rich dinner. The friendly seven at the table—Mitzy, Sabrina, Adele, Howard, and Alonzo, and the Mitchells who were on the board of directors, had managed to enjoy themselves through the entertainment. It was a table for eight but Alonzo and Mitzy had enough presence to make the empty plate disappear.
Everyone had a small white paddle with a black number on it for the auction. Sabrina tucked hers under her chair and drank the coffee that Mitzy had secured for her.
For most of the auction, the head table was appreciative, but quiet. Their bidding wasn’t particularly expected. But then the Belle Époque piece came up. Many women in the crowd were interested in it, so the bidding quickly went over one thousand. Brett let Aerin know early on that the piece wasn’t worth it to him. Aerin sat out the bidding.
Mitzy almost had it at $3900 when a last minute bid came from the back. She fought for it up to $4300 but was beginning to feel foolish. The last bid was just $4350 dollars, so she upped it once more to $4400—well above the actual value of the piece. She smiled, satisfied, as her bid was about to be accepted.
“Six thousand dollars.”
She flipped in her chair and glared at Alonzo. “Six thousand dollars? Are you crazy?”
“Too rich for you, Mitz?” He smiled, his eyes laughing at her.
“Too stupid for me,” she hissed at him.
“Oh, Alonzo, what a lovely piece,” said Adele looked fondly at her nephew. “Do you have someone special in mind for it?” She turned and smiled at Mitzy.
“You are a special lady, Aunt Adele, but I think this time my mother is the most special.” The men at the table guffawed at him. “Well played, Miramontes. Don’t let anyone pin you down before you are ready,” Mr. Mitchell said, his white mustache twitching as he laughed.