Honeymoon

Chapter 13

IT WAS A BUSY MORNING for Nora. First, she shopped for a very delicious hour at Sentiments on East Sixty-first, and now she had work to do for a client at ABC Carpet & Home near Union Square. After that it was off to the D&D Building showroom and, finally, Devonshire, an English garden shop.

She was shopping for Constance McGrath, one of her first clients. Constance—who was definitely not a “Connie, for short”—had just moved from her posh East Side two-bedroom to an even more posh two-bedroom on Central Park West. The Dakota, to be exact, where they had filmed Rosemary’s Baby and John Lennon was murdered. A former stage actress back in her day, Constance still possessed a flair for the dramatic. She explained to Nora her move across Central Park as follows: “The sun sets in the west, and in this, my last apartment, so will I.”

Nora liked Constance. The woman was feisty, forthright, and fond of invoking a decorator’s favorite expression: Money is no object. She had also outlived two husbands.

“As I live and breathe!” came a man’s voice.

Nora turned to see Evan Frazer with his arms outstretched wide in full-hug mode. Evan represented Ballister Grove Antiques, which occupied a large portion of the fifth floor.

“Evan!” said Nora. “It’s so good to see you.”

“Even better to see you,” he replied. He kissed Nora on both cheeks. “So, what fabulously wealthy client are you shopping for today?”

Nora could almost see the dollar signs flashing in his eyes. “She’ll go nameless, of course, but lucky for you she’s ditching some of her ornate French for a more traditional English look.”

“Then you’ve come to the right place,” he said with a toothy grin. “But then again, you always do.”

For the next hour or so, Evan walked Nora through his entire inventory of English furniture. He knew the drill: what to say and what not to say. Especially what not to say to Nora Sinclair.

Nora hated to be told by a salesperson that something was beautiful. As if that would influence her opinion. She had her own aesthetic. Her own taste. Part innate, the rest developed and honed by experience. She trusted it implicitly.

“Does this come with one leaf or two?” she asked Evan while hovering over a mahogany dining-room table with satinwood banding.

“It comes with one,” he said. “But it can accommodate two, and we can easily have the second one made.”

“The one should be fine.” She glanced at the price. Again, it was a perfunctory move when shopping for Constance McGrath. With a step back and a final peruse, Nora delivered her signature variation on “I’ll take it.” Why say three words when she could be far more emphatic with one?

“Done!” she declared.

Evan immediately pulled a sold card from his clipboard and slapped it on the table. It was the fourth and final slap of the morning. Combined with the breakfront, highboy, and settee that were also “done” deals, Nora was satisfied.

The two took a seat on a large sofa as Evan wrote up the invoice. Not a word was spoken regarding Nora’s 10 percent kickback. It was understood.

After saying good-bye to Evan, Nora stopped for a quick bite at one of the in-store restaurants, La Mercado. She realized she didn’t need to visit D&D or Devonshire after all. She’d accomplished everything she had to at Sentiments and Ballister Grove. Over a Cobb salad and a dulce de leche crepe for dessert, she worked her cell phone.

She placed a call to Constance to rave about the morning’s purchases. She also returned calls from both Jeffrey and Connor to fulfill her Man Maintenance for the day.