Chapter 4
"Ma'am, Ms. Hayes said the auction's already over, and the buyer won't return it," Owen said.
Michael suddenly looked up.
"Which auction house?" he asked.
Owen gave the name.
Michael set the ivory pendent down.
"The owner of that auction house will be at the restoration fair tomorrow," he said.
I looked at him.
Michael went on, "If you want the bracelet, you'll have to come and get it yourself."
*****
The restoration fair was held at the Suthaven Club.
By the time I arrived, the entrance was already swarming with reporters.
Clara was there, too.
She wore a plain white dress, clinging to Julian's good arm. There was a faint layer of powder under her eyes, like she was desperately trying to hide how exhausted she looked after a sleepless night.
Peggy was right behind them, and the moment she saw me, her face turned cold.
"Who let you in here?" she snapped.
Michael stepped out from behind me.
"I invited her," he said.
Peggy managed to stay polite with Michael, at least on the surface.
"Mr. West, you have no idea how much drama she's caused lately. This is an important event. Don't let her spoil the atmosphere," she said.
Michael replied, "This is a restoration exhibition, not a Longston family gathering."
Peggy's lips twitched, clearly annoyed at being put in her place.
Clara said softly, "Evelyn, if you like antiques, it's fine to come and take a look. But with so many experts here today, maybe don't try to push yourself."
Lily muttered at my side, "She sure knows how to talk in circles."
Julian looked at me.
"So, what brings you here?" he asked.
"I'm here for my bracelet," I said, not backing down.
Clara's face instantly lost all color, her nerves showing. "Evelyn, I told you already—the buyer won't give it back."
"I wasn't asking you," I said coolly, cutting Clara off.
Julian frowned.
"Evelyn, don't stir things up today," he said.
Michael interjected, "She's the restorer I invited. She's here to work, not to cause drama."
People started glancing our way.
"She's really young for an antique restorer," someone whispered.
"Mr. West invited her himself—she must really know her stuff," another person chimed in.
"Wait, isn't that Mr. Longston's ex-wife?" someone else murmured.
Clara whispered, "Julian, do you think people will laugh at Evelyn?"
Julian's face grew even darker.
The live restoration session kicked off.
On stage, three antiques were up for restoration—a cracked porcelain bowl, a damaged oil painting, and Michael's ivory pendent.
The host called the restorer up to the stage.
Clara suddenly raised her hand.
"Mr. West, I'd like to give it a try, too," she said.
Peggy immediately smiled.
"Clara's been painting since she was a kid, and she's always had an eye for aesthetics. Let her give it a shot," she said.
Michael looked at Clara.
"Have you ever done any restoration before?" he asked.
Clara hesitated, lips pressed together.
"I've never worked on ivory pendents, but I can handle oil paintings. I studied antique painting reproduction overseas," she said.
The host looked a bit awkward.
Some people in the audience started egging her on.
"Ms. Hayes's art exhibition was a hit. Let her give it a shot," someone called out.
Clara turned to me, her voice just loud enough for the mic to catch.
"Evelyn, let's do it together. Let everyone see who really deserves to be up here," she said.
Lily let out a snort, half amused, half annoyed. "Does she think this is a beauty pageant or something?"
I walked up to the stage.
"Fine," I said.
Julian called out from the audience.
"Evelyn, don't do this just to prove a point," he said.
I didn't look back.
Clara picked up her brush and shot me a quick grin. "Hey Evelyn, don't blame me if you lose."
She chose the oil painting.
She stood under the spotlight—maybe her technique wasn't perfect, but she looked graceful and had a striking presence.
The media cameras swarmed around her.
I sat off to the side, working on the ivory pendent, barely getting any camera time.
Peggy muttered from the audience, "See the difference? Some people just aren't meant to be in the spotlight."
Lily shot back right away, "You earn your place up there by fixing things, not by crying."
Peggy shot her a glare back.
Julian just watched me on stage, saying nothing.
Half an hour later, Clara ran into trouble.
She overdid the paint, hoping to cover up the tear quickly, but when she pressed the brush down, the old paper soaked up the pigment and the color spread, blurring the edges.
People in the audience frowned.
"Oh no, she messed up," someone whispered.
Clara's hand froze.
The host jumped in to cover for her.
"Ms. Hayes might just need a little more time to get used to these materials," the host said.
Clara couldn't hide her embarrassment as she looked up at me.
"Evelyn, can you help me out?" she asked.
I didn't move.
"I'm working on my own piece," I said.
She bit her lip.
"If this painting gets ruined, the owner will be devastated. You, of all people, should understand what that's like," Clara said, her voice gentle but with a hint of accusation.
She knew exactly how to shift the blame.
Julian spoke up at that moment. "Evelyn, help her out first."
My hand holding the fine needle stilled for a moment.
Everyone in the audience was staring at me.
"Why should I?" I asked.
Julian's face darkened.
"If you can, why can't you just step in and fix this?" he demanded.
I looked straight at him.
"That's exactly what you thought the night you got hurt," I shot back.