Page 11 of The Hampton Beach Café 3
SIX
The Red, White and Blue milkshakes were disturbingly popular, even after patrons discovered that the blue syrup turned their teeth a rather alarming shade of teal. It was too much for Lucinda, who burst into fits of giggles every time someone spoke to her and flashed their bright blue smile.
Luckily, everyone was in a jovial mood and assumed that she was too. Frances leaned her hip against the stunning carved bar that Vincent had made for them. She still couldn't get over how ornate the piece was. For the first time, she felt like the art they had on the walls was too Avant Garde and maybe he should focus on something more traditional like sculpture...
"Excuse me?" a nasal voice broke her train of thought and Frances remembered that she was actually at work, not a guest.
"Hello, hi, how can I help?" she said.
"You can sell me that stunning thing in the window," the woman said, gesturing at the driftwood sculpture that had first drawn Frances into Vincent's old gallery space.
"Well, I'd be thrilled to!" Frances said.
They moved through the small crowd towards it, and Frances scanned the room for Vince––he normally liked to be present for the sales.
"Can you confirm the price for me? And the delivery costs," the tall woman said, a note of hesitancy in her voice that made Frances wince.
"Sure thing," she said, reaching for the guide that hung on the wall.
As she read through the details, Frances caught sight of Vincent and waved him over. The woman was nodding as she came to the conclusion of the price guide.
"...all quoted prices are final, and full payment must be made before taking the piece or pieces." Frances finished as Vincent stepped closer and smiled wide, extending a hand to the woman for her to shake.
"These pieces are all dreadfully underpriced," she said as she shook Vincent's hand. "I can say that now you've confirmed that little line in your price guide."
Frances blinked twice. What?
Vincent laughed. "Oh, you're too kind. I'm glad you like my work, though."
Her gaze flicking between the two of them, Frances wondered about what the woman had said––no one ever told people art was underpriced.
"Are you a regular investor in artworks, then?" Frances asked, wanting to stay in the conversation.
They turned back to her, and the woman nodded. "Lauren Daniels, I am. Both for my personal collection and for a select group of clients. How long have you been in the gallery business?"
Ten minutes,Frances thought. Managing not to say that out loud, she cleared her throat.
"Actually, on the vendor side of things, this is my first venture…" she said, "…but I've always loved art."
Lauren Daniels was nodding. "Interesting, well, I'd like to discuss commissioning a piece from your stay here––"
"Vincent Stone," Vin supplied as she paused.
"––yes, Vincent. I have several clients who would love to add something like this to their collection. Of course, there would also be a...finders' fee. I suppose you'd call it."
Trying to keep an appropriately sized smile on her face, Frances looked over at Vincent to gauge his response. The way he was grinning uncontrollably told her all she needed to know––and that he really needed to work on his negotiating face.
"That sounds like something we'd be interested in discussing," Lucinda said, surprising Frances.
"We?" Lauren asked, her eyebrows raised.
Vincent's cheeks turned a deep red but Lucinda remained calm and smiling.
"Yes, I'm a consultant for Mr. Stone and any commissions or long-term arrangements will need to be overseen by my network––to provide protection to both parties."
This was not how Frances liked to do business, but Lucinda's warm smile, coupled with her cold words, seemed to do the trick on Lauren.
"It's fabulous to see creatives’ with a proper network of support and advice," she said, extending her hand to Lucinda. "In my line of work, you see far too many people taken advantage of."
