He thought of his mother.
The necklace was not for her.
She would have hated it.
Whenever Marcus bought her something expensive, she inspected the receipt as though it were evidence of financial irresponsibility.
The appointment had a different purpose.
His family investment office was considering an acquisition.
Not Ellison & Rowe itself.
A separate luxury-assets fund controlled by several families wanted to move a significant portion of its jewelry collection into a managed trust before a restructuring.
Marcus’s office had first option on several pieces.
The necklace was one.
Two bracelets.
A collection of colored diamonds.
One Art Deco emerald piece.
Total value close to eighteen million.
Possibly more.
The purchase was financially attractive.
But Marcus insisted on examining everything personally.
He had learned never to buy an object because a spreadsheet said it was valuable.
A spreadsheet cannot tell you whether something feels dead in person.
The associate returned with water.
“Mr. Cole will be right with you.”
“Thank you.”
Marcus took the glass.
Ten-eleven.
Adrian Cole was late.
Not important.
He drank.
Across the showroom, a man in a dark navy suit looked toward him.
Late thirties.
Carefully styled brown hair.
Expensive shoes.
Gold tie bar.
Marcus recognized him from the email packet.
Adrian Cole.
Senior private-client manager.
The man who had been assigned to host him.
Marcus almost lifted a hand.
Then Adrian turned toward another customer.
Older white couple.
He walked directly to them.
Smiled.
Handshakes.
Marcus watched.
Maybe they had an appointment too.
No problem.
He waited.
Ten-fourteen.
A second associate approached.
White man.
Early twenties.
“Sir, can I help you?”
“I’m waiting for Adrian Cole.”
The associate looked toward Adrian.
Then Marcus.
“Do you have an appointment?”
“Yes.”
“Name?”
Marcus gave it.
The associate walked toward the tablet.
Marcus thought:
Here we go again.
The system should have shown him immediately.
Instead, the young man looked at the screen.
Then back at Marcus.
His face changed.
“Oh.”
Same reaction.
Marcus wondered what notes Richard Ellison had placed in the appointment.
Probably excessive ones.
Richard had personally called him two days earlier.
“Marcus, one request.”
“What?”
“Please allow Adrian to give you the full presentation.”
“Why?”
“He prepared for it.”
Marcus laughed.
“You're afraid I'll walk in, look for ten minutes, and leave.”
“That is exactly what I'm afraid of.”
“I might.”
“Give him thirty.”
“Twenty.”
“Twenty-five.”
“Fine.”
Then Richard added:
“You're coming alone?”
“Yes.”
“No security?”
“No.”
“No adviser?”
“No.”
“You understand most people purchasing eighteen million dollars’ worth of jewelry bring somebody.”
“I’m bringing me.”
Richard sighed.
“Fine.”
“I’m putting a note on the appointment.”
“What note?”
“Do not expect an entourage.”
Marcus laughed.
“Richard.”
“I know my staff.”
At the time, Marcus assumed the owner meant employees would overprepare.
He would later realize Richard had been afraid of the opposite problem.
The young associate returned.