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“I already told you I’m not a lady.”
He pointed a finger. “That won’t work with me. I won’t tolerate anyone denigrating you. Not even you. Now, let’s try this again. Angel, you look gorgeous this evening.”
Angeldisarmed me. “Thank you.”
He fished into a bag on the floor and produced a small box. “These are for you.”
I froze in place. It wasn’t just any box. It was a small blue box with the initials HW on it. It was a fucking Harry Winston jewelry box.
“Go ahead, open it.”
I took the box and after another nod from him, I opened it. Earrings with brilliant green emeralds and a pendant with a matching stone on a simple, white-gold chain sparkled in the late-day sunlight.
This was too much. “But I can’t.”
“What did I just finish telling you about arguments? These match your eyes perfectly.”
This was completely over the top. Naturally the man shopped at the same place as the Prince of Wales and Hollywood elites.
I looked at him again. “Are you sure?”
“Have you ever known me to say something I didn’t mean?”
I didn’t answer, but started to remove the simple gold dangles I’d chosen for tonight. I swapped them out for the gemstone earrings.
He helped me with the necklace clasp, and then gave an approving smile. “They look good on you.”
Paying attention to my training, I replied simply. “Thank you.”
Dennis explained what to expect at this party. It sounded boring—a silent auction, dinner, and a bunch of old stiffs gaining social credibility by donating to a worthy local institution.
I took a guess. “And how many of these people are trying to curry favor with your father?”
Dennis took in a breath. “That’s a crass way of putting it. But it’s the way things work. Between Dad, Bill Covington, and the other board members, the attendees have a lot of interrelated interests.”
I understood. “This is a rich people’s mutual-admiration-society meeting—normal people need not apply.”
His glare was cold. “It’s not like that. Do you think the city is better off with or without a fine art museum?”
I hadn’t meant to get into an argument, so I kept my mouth shut for a change.
“It’s a simple question.”
Art wasn’t my thing, but I’d been to the museum once on a school field trip, and I had enjoyed it.
“With a museum, of course,” I said.
“Dad insists on not charging admission, so he holds events like this to raise the money to keep it running. Normal people, as you call them, don’t have money to spare for a cause like this. The people he invites do. At the end of the night, they feel better after having donated to the museum and getting the side benefit of rubbing shoulders with the other guests. In exchange, the city gets to keep its museum. Everybody wins.”
Once again my smart mouth had gotten me into trouble. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it was a bad thing.”
“Sure you did. You let your prejudice show through. You think rich people should be punished for having money.”
“No, I don’t. I just…” I didn’t know how to finish the sentence without getting deeper into trouble. I couldn’t very well explain that I thought being rich let him get away with things normal people would go to jail for.
He reached over to take my hand. “Sorry for going off on you like that, Angel. I guess I’m a little sensitive.”
* * *
