The Artist's Secret by Alexandra Joel

Author:Alexandra Joel
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2022-11-28T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Timothy King rose to greet Wren when she entered his wood-panelled office. He wore a beautifully cut suit and his black hair boasted distinguished silver streaks, but his most striking feature was his dark, hooded eyes. Wren had heard it whispered in the corridors of Archer’s that, such was the half-English, half-American man’s cunning, should he enter a revolving door after someone, he’d be sure to emerge ahead of them.

She adjusted the skirt of her square-shouldered, red Emporio Armani suit as she took a seat opposite him. Power dressing was essential if she were to have any chance of being taken seriously.

‘Well, well,’ he said, pouring tea into a bone-china cup and handing it to her. ‘You are certainly proving to be a singular intern.’ He smiled. ‘Milk? Sugar?’

Wren declined.

‘I’m very happy here,’ she said calmly, though her stomach squirmed as she wondered exactly why she’d been called in to see King and what Amelia had told him.

He steepled his fingers. ‘Let me see. You have already brought us a fascinating new client – I refer, of course, to Tony Mancini – and brokered a very nice deal regarding an existing client’s surplus painting. Now you have presented Archer’s with the tempting prospect of auctioning a significant Renoir, just at a time when collectors are craving Impressionist art.’

He poured a cup of tea for himself. ‘What an unusually resourceful young woman you are.’

‘Thank you,’ Wren murmured, pondering whether King’s personal tea ceremony was the way he attempted to lull all his visitors into a state of unsuspecting ease.

‘As you would imagine, our forthcoming Important European Art auction would be a perfect fit for the Renoir that Tony Mancini told you about – should it prove genuine, of course,’ he said. ‘I expect about seventy lots will go up for sale, ideally with Two Young Girls at the Piano as the evening’s star attraction.’

‘I’m sure the owner would be thrilled, Mr King.’ Wren sat forward. Maybe this meeting would turn out better than she’d hoped.

‘However,’ he began.

She knew what was coming.

‘Amelia’s opinion is that, even with intensive tutoring, you could not run an auction of this magnitude.’ King helped himself to more tea. ‘This also happens to be my view. It may not appear this way to the onlooker, no matter how many auctions you’ve seen, but the task is akin to performing a marathon, except you’re sprinting all the way.’

Wren stared into her half-empty cup.

‘There are a hundred things to keep track of while a sale is in progress,’ he said. ‘Bids flying around the room; deciding who to play off against whom; watching how the telephone bidders are responding; establishing who might miss out but could be tempted by another lot; determining whether the work has gone as high as it can or, with a little encouragement, the bidding might reach a new level.’ King clasped his hands together. ‘It’s relentless.’

‘I understand,’ Wren said, sitting up a little straighter. There was something in King’s tone that suggested he wasn’t finished.

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