Vampires of London: Books 1-3

Chapter Ten

Chapter TenCat had been working at Sotheby's for about a week when Desmond called in with the flu, leaving Cat to fend for herself.

For most of the day, Cat had done exactly the same as on previous days: hidden herself away down in the basement and completed some tasks Desmond had taught her.

The catalog prep was done for the week, and since they had an auction coming up, it was time to compile all upcoming lots in a spreadsheet so that after the event, they could enter how they'd performed. This data would be filed and compared to previous records of similar items.

It was all rather technical and boring on the face of it. Luckily, the lots themselves were so interesting that Cat managed to keep herself entertained.

She was almost done for the day when the door to the cramped little basement office swung open, revealing the last person she wanted to see.

"Catherine. Good, you're still here," Ms. Pryce said in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Yes, Ms. Pryce?" Cat responded almost on autopilot, as she saved her spreadsheet for the final time.

"I need you to stay behind." It wasn't a request; at least, it didn't sound like one.

Cat pressed her lips together and wondered what, if anything, she'd done wrong.

"The auction tonight. Normally Desmond would do this, but since he's not here..." Ms. Pryce clarified. "I need someone to observe the buyers, take notes on what they showed interest in, that sort of thing."

Cat's heart started to beat faster as soon as Ms. Pryce had said the word auction. This was her chance! And only a week into this job!

"Yes, of course I can attend tonight's auction!" Cat couldn't contain her excitement.

Ms. Pryce nodded. "I would expect no less. You might want to..." She gestured down at Cat's outfit. "Change into something more appropriate."

Cat looked down at her black trouser suit. What’s wrong with this? It was very business-like, or so she thought.

"Yes, of course," Cat mumbled.

Ms. Pryce folded her arms and squinted at Cat. "A shift dress. Black. Heels." She nodded to make her point, then turned around and walked out again. "It begins at seven."

Cat exhaled sharply, having realized she'd been holding her breath for most of the time Ms. Pryce had been talking to her. A little black dress and heels. She could manage that. Hopefully.

A quick glance at the clock revealed she didn't have much time, certainly not enough for a round trip home. So Cat did the only thing she could think of; she called for help.

"Hey you!" Shelly answered the phone.

"You busy?" Cat asked, ignoring her greeting.

"Just tidying up and heading home, why?"

"I have a fashion emergency," Cat said. Those last two words would be irresistible to someone like Shelly, who lived to dress up.

"Tell me more!"

Cat smiled and explained the problem. She knew she could count on Shelly. The phone call was over in minutes with a promise that Shelly would be on the way as soon as possible with a suitable outfit from Cat's closet.

Cat sank back in her chair and breathed a sigh of relief. No way was she going to blow this opportunity.

In an effort to be well prepared for the auction—and to pass the time—Cat picked up a copy of tonight's catalog and started to read. She recognized the names of the lots from her earlier spreadsheet, but the images and descriptions were all new to her.

The selection of items was vast, from paintings to figurines and tea sets to large pieces of furniture. She had no way of knowing where exactly she would be during the auction itself, but Cat was determined to take a look at some of these items in person if she could manage it.

Half an hour must have passed, and Cat had read through most of the catalog, pausing on the final entry.

The picture showed some mounted pages which appeared to be from an old unnamed book as per the description. What a strange thing to be selling. Cat held up the catalog and looked at it more closely. She couldn't explain what it was, but something about this listing intrigued her more than any of the others.

For sure, this was one she would have to see up close.

Her phone rang, startling her. She put the catalog back down on the desk.

"Hey, Shelly!"

"I'm outside."

Cat hung up and made a beeline for the exit.

Cat made it into the main hall upstairs ten minutes early. Ms. Pryce was already there, coordinating with other staff Cat had not met before.

"There you are." Ms. Pryce greeted Cat by handing her a clipboard and a pen.

"Yes, Ms. Pryce."

Ms. Pryce glanced down at Cat's outfit, like she had done earlier that evening already. There was nothing in her expression that signaled whether she approved or not.

Either way, it was too late to change anything. Cat smoothed her dress down with her free hand and awkwardly waited for her instructions.

"Within minutes, buyers will start to arrive. Jeremy and his people over here will ensure they find their seat and are given a paddle to make their bids with. Phone bids will be handled from over there beside the auctioneer's podium."

Cat nodded. It was a lot of information to take in and Ms. Pryce's tone suggested that as usual, she expected Cat to learn quickly.

"What I want you to do is to observe any active bidders and take notes. You take down the number on their paddle, the lot number they bid on, and anything else that stands out to you. And I want you to take your own initiative on this; I'm not going to spell out what to look for."

"Understood." This was a test. Cat was determined to pass it.

"And you do it from behind the curtain, so you don't attract too much attention to yourself." Ms. Pryce emphasized her instruction by pointing at the exact spot Cat should position herself at.

Cat nodded and started to walk toward the curtain.

"If anyone approaches you, you refer them to Jeremy or myself, you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," Cat mumbled under her breath.

It wasn't a glamorous job, but at least she was here in the midst of all the action. For that, Cat was immensely grateful. She found herself a chair and placed it just so that she could look out through a gap in the curtain without being seen by the crowd which had just started to pour in. The only other people back here with her were the warehouse staff responsible for moving high value lots on and off the stage.

The auction turnout was quite diverse; most of the people entering the room had dressed up for the occasion. Men wore suits and women wore dresses and ensembles that wouldn't look out of place on the Duchess of Cambridge. Then there were those who stood out a bit more; Cat spied ethnic clothes of all colors and descriptions, and also some people who seemingly didn't care at all what they wore. Apparently the latter seemed to think that jeans and t-shirts were an appropriate fashion choice for an event such as this.

Cat idly wondered what Ms. Pryce would have to say about those people.

Finally, as the seats in front of the podium began to fill up, someone walked in who made Cat's heart stop.

Alexander.

On his arm was a slender, elegantly dressed woman with strawberry blond hair. Her features and skin tone reminded Cat of a porcelain doll, similar to the type her grandmother used to collect when she was still alive. A pang of jealousy surged through Cat's chest. Fine, she'd left in a hurry that night, and ruined any chance she'd had with the man. But here he was with another woman by his side, and Cat could barely contain her rage.

This makes no sense!

Cat took a deep breath and tried to focus on the clipboard in her lap. With this unexpected arrival, Cat's job was going to become so much more difficult. How could she observe the entire crowd, when all her eyes seemed to want to do was stare at one particular person?

She looked up to see where he'd sat down, and found that he was looking right in her direction. Could he see her? That was impossible, surely! She was well hidden behind this curtain.

Cat blinked and saw that he'd looked away, making small talk with his female companion.

Ugh, what a player!

Just outside of Cat's range of view, someone—presumably the auctioneer—made a knocking sound.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to Sotheby's. You are here by invitation, since you are all valued clients of ours, so I think we can forego any explanations at this point. You all know how this works. We have an amazing selection of paintings, furniture, and numerous other objets d'art for you tonight. Without further ado, let's begin!"

Cat took a deep breath. This was it. She couldn't afford to miss a moment of it.

In a rush, she scribbled down the first lot number just as the auctioneer introduced it, and started scanning the crowd, pausing every time she hit the third row from the front, fourth person from the left. Alexander. Seeing him here brought back all sorts of memories she'd been trying to block.

He had a certain aura, a presence that was impossible to ignore. All the regret she'd done her best to swallow came rushing back. If she hadn't left in such a rush, and their encounter had come to a more logical end, would he have remembered her? Did he remember her now? Perhaps she ought to find him later and say hello.

Then again, he was here with somebody. If she approached him, that would just be sad on her part.

She rubbed the bridge of her nose with the back of her pen and did her best to focus on the crowd again. Bidders 54 and 87 seemed to have a bit of a competition going. She noted down everything she saw, including the remark "this is personal."

The next lots passed in much the same fashion. Cat did her best to control the urge to let her gaze linger on Alexander, who had stayed out of the bidding so far, even if the shock of seeing him again refused to subside. And she wrote down whatever she could about the active bidders, just like Ms. Pryce had told her to. Before she knew it, she'd filled sheet after sheet in scribbles.

Her hand started to cramp—it had been an age since she'd written this much by hand—but she didn't miss a beat. Every lot, every bidder was carefully documented.

An hour had passed, and the auction was coming to an end. From her earlier study of the catalog, she knew that there was only one lot left.

And Alexander hadn't bid on a single item yet.

"Next up, lot 66, mounted prints from an unknown book, circa 1500, let's start with the reserve—" Cat heard the auctioneer say.

In the crowd, Alexander seemed to perk up in his chair. That was when Cat noticed the chair next to him was empty.

Cat held her breath and gripped the pen so tightly her knuckles turned white. The ache in her wrist that had started to develop soon after the auction had begun had now turned to shooting pains going all the way up through her arm and shoulder. For but a moment, Alexander seemed to look in her direction again and she thought she could see it. The passion, the care with which he'd looked at her that night. It was like a stab in the heart, forcing her to avert her gaze and focus on his hands instead.

Within moments, the bidding was underway. No matter who else lifted their paddle, almost a split second later, Alexander had his in the air. He was determined.

Cat wondered what made this lot so special. Sure, she'd been fascinated by its description herself, but Alexander seemed willing to spend a fortune on it. The higher the bids went, the more intrigued she became.

At the same time, a sense of great urgency filled her; this was the last lot. Once the auction ended, he would leave. The prospect hurt more than she expected it to.

By the end, a few framed bits of old paper had gone for five times their reserve. With her heart still hammering away and a lump developing in her throat, Cat looked down to find that she had unknowingly filled an entire page with just observations about Alexander. Most had nothing to do with the auction. Damn. No way could she show all this to Ms. Pryce; she would think Cat had lost her mind.

The auctioneer ended with some sort of announcement about payments. Cat didn't waste any more time and sprang into action. She had to see what was so special about that lot Alexander had bought. If only to feel some sort of closeness to him, to understand what made him tick.

After catching a final glimpse of him, she headed deeper backstage to intercept that final lot on its way back into storage.