A Gift to Remember (22 page)

Katherine was silent for a moment. ‘Perhaps. I will ask around for you. And I agree – someone who has the sort of aesthetic appreciation you describe may well be known amongst the
establishment. And if he’s wealthy then he almost certainly is a donor to some cause or another. You mentioned he owns a Rothko?’

‘Yes.’

‘Goodness. And it’s just sitting in the hallway? That, my dear, is what I call “stupid money”.’ Katherine paused again while the wheels seemed to be turning in her
head. ‘And you are
absolutely
sure he’s not single?’

Darcy let out an exasperated sigh. ‘Look, I’ve just told you about the fresh flowers and the pictures of various women in his apartment. And one of these women left a breathy message
on his answering machine concerned about his missing some significant date.’

But her aunt wasn’t giving up without a fight. ‘Which proves what, exactly? And you didn’t answer my question.’

Darcy flushed, despite herself. ‘Yes, he seems like a very nice guy but at the moment I am simply helping him piece together the details of his life, that’s all. And once he does
this and goes back to that life – which I may add is a world apart from my own – and the people close to him, then I’m sure we’ll have nothing more to do with one
another.’

‘Hmm,’ Katherine replied, a smile still in her voice, and no doubt some form of plot being hatched inside her head. ‘Well, let me ask around about collectors or donors in the
name of Aidan Harris. Eligible or not, I’m sure somebody must have heard.’

‘Oh, I forgot to mention – I know the name of his company too. It’s called Thrill Seeker Holdings.’

Her aunt was silent for a moment. ‘Thrill Seeker?’

‘Yes, why? Have you heard of it? I was Googling it earlier but I came up blank.’

‘It does ring a bell somehow. Let me think about it, and if I can find anything on this mystery man of yours I’ll be sure to let you know.’

‘Thank you. I appreciate that, Katherine.’ Darcy knew that if anyone could track down more information on Aidan it would be Katherine Armstrong. Never one to turn her back on a
challenge – nor indeed give up on any cause without a fight –it could only be a matter of time before she unearthed something useful.

‘In the meantime, darling, I’m sure it’ll do no harm to continue playing nursemaid to the man. Maybe by the time all of this is sorted out, he’ll have forgotten all about
his other woman and have fallen completely in love with you,’ Katherine added jokingly, but Darcy knew her well enough to recognise a note of seriousness in there too.

She couldn’t help but laugh. Trust her aunt to think that trying to hit on a hospitalised amnesiac millionaire was a good idea.

So far, I think it’s safe to say that I am striking out with my mission. To suggest that I was unmercifully screened on the first two calls I made to the names on George’s private
list would be an understatement.

First the Monroes – a family who had just recently come into money via some minor connection to the British Royal Family, and who very much liked to make everyone Stateside, where
something like that was sure to impress, aware of it – flat out refused to entertain me.

Then the Benningtons, a family name that I did not recognise until I was reading Page Six of the
Post
this morning and realised the connection between Arthur and Miriam Bennington, the
individuals I had been trying to get in touch with, and the LA socialite Tiffany Bennington, who was recently photographed falling out of a Bentley wearing no underwear.

Obviously, the screener didn’t understand how modern media worked and Arthur and Miriam were currently not in Cannes as I had been told but according to the
New York Post
were out
in LA reportedly bailing out their daughter.

It seems that falling out of a Bentley with no underwear on wouldn’t have been that big of a deal in the scheme of things, but the fact that Miss Bennington happened to do so on Sunset
Boulevard at 3 a.m. with a gram of cocaine on her . . . well, that was a different story altogether.

Ah, rich people’s problems.

At least I didn’t have to deal with too much of that. Probably because I had solid Irish roots, and growing up in such a family certainly had its advantages when it came to navigating
one’s way through Manhattan’s business circles.

Such an upbringing is probably why I am able to keep in perspective much of what I now experience on a daily basis. Though I can appreciate how, if a person has been born and raised with money,
they might find it easy to forget about the things that really count.

Like family, relationships, and being happy with yourself. I find comfort in the fact that even with everything that has happened to me and no matter what good fortunes I have been granted, I
can still close my eyes at the end of every day and sleep soundly.

Just then, Bailey decided to grace me with his presence. The big dog entered the room, took note of the fact that I was sitting at my desk, then settled into his usual place under the desk and
on top of my feet.

I took a sip of coffee and pulled my laptop closer, along with the list that George from Christie’s had so kindly provided.

Who was next?

‘The Cleaver-Parks,’ I muttered to myself. It always made me laugh, the way the ultra-rich never had everyday names like Smith, Jones, or O’Brien.

I pulled up Google on my browser and typed in
Nathaniel Cleaver-Parks, Sr
. A moment later, I was given the full lowdown on the gentleman’s background and very quickly decided to
make it easy on myself by forgoing the litany of newspaper write-ups and other supporting information, choosing instead to consult Mr Cleaver-Parks’s Wikipedia page.

Call me lazy, but at the end of the day I’m not writing this guy’s biography; I simply need enough basic information with which to arm myself before I call.

I skimmed Wikipedia and learned that Mr Cleaver-Parks was in his late fifties. He inherited the majority of his fortune from his mother’s side of the family and had generated the rest of
his wealth through a successful career on Wall Street. He regularly gave to charity, and had been a big supporter of the Republican Party until his twenty-year-old son came out of the closet three
years ago. Following that incident, Nathan, being the good father that he was, decided to side with the political party that was most likely not to judge his son based on sexual orientation or deny
him rights.

I smiled. I had to give respect to a guy who put the love of his family above politics and his wallet. His son should be accepted for the person he is and I knew I would do the same thing if
ever faced with such a situation.

Feeling confident about contacting the man, and praying that he was in reality the kind of stand-up guy he sounded like online, I picked up the phone on the desk and started to dial. The list
detailed a home number and a cell number and out of courtesy, I decided to try the home phone first.

Moments later, a man with a distinctive clipped New York accent picked up. ‘Cleaver-Parks residence,’ he said.

‘Hello,’ I began warmly, ‘I’m looking for Nathaniel Cleaver-Parks.’

‘Speaking,’ the man replied and I frowned. He sounded too young. Then all too quickly, I realised my mistake.

‘Er, actually I think I might be looking for Nathaniel Senior.’

‘Oh right, sure,’ said the man I guessed to be the son for whom Nate Sr had switched political parties. He must be home on Christmas break. According to the Wikipedia page, Nate Jr
was in his senior year at Harvard. ‘I’m sorry, but Dad is actually travelling right now.’

My heart sank, but then I asked, ‘Do you think he would be taking calls on his cell?’

The son paused for a moment. ‘Do you mind telling me who this is and what it is about?’

‘Sure. My name is Aidan Harris,’ I introduced myself before getting to the purpose of my query. ‘I believe that he has an item in his collection that I am interested in and was
wondering if he might be inclined to sell.’

‘Which one are you looking for?’

I felt my heart soar just a little. Maybe there was hope here. When I outlined the details of my request, as well as my ideal timeline, he sucked in his breath a little.

‘As in one week from today?’

‘Yes,’ I said, all at once feeling completely hopeless. ‘Let’s just say the eighteenth is significant and if I don’t get it by then, well . . . it just
wouldn’t be the same.’

Nate was quiet on the other end of the line. ‘OK, so I’m guessing this isn’t an early Christmas gift to yourself then.’

‘Correct.’

‘Look, Aidan. You seem like a decent guy. And judging by the sounds of it, you are trying to do something really nice for someone whom you care about. So here is what I am going to
do.’ At this my ears perked up and my spirit lifted. ‘If it were up to my dad, who is also a good guy by the way, and if he had answered the phone just now there’s probably no way
that you would be able to get your hands on one of his precious babies in just a couple of days. I also know that my dad isn’t going to sell the one you want because it’s one of his
favourites. I might as well tell you that straight, OK?’ At this my heart sank again. ‘But I might be able to help you out. Frankly, I’m kind of bored at the moment; I had an
invite to St Barts, but decided not to take it because I don’t want to be around a bunch of fake, annoying people I don’t like to begin with. So I’m going to make your little
project my project too, if you don’t mind.’

I admitted that I didn’t mind at all. While I knew that I might have some ties to this particular world, at the same time, those ties were few and far between. Whereas this kid had been
born into the environment I was navigating and might be able to throw some more names my way.

I told him that any help he could give me would be great.

‘OK, so tell me, who else is on your hit list?’

I read off the names and Nate made little comments after almost every single one. Clearly, he was familiar with these other collectors and the reactions I might expect to face.

‘So what I think you should do is first off tell the others that I referred you to them,’ he told me. ‘Someone is going to dig deeper about where you are getting your info and
will not be as forgiving as I am. Trust me when I say that one of these days our boy George is going to get his ass handed to him.’

I breathed a sigh of relief. ‘You’re sure you don’t mind if I say that you are the one referring me?’ I enquired.

‘Absolutely. All of those people know me. But still, there are some others not on the list who I think you should call as well. I need a day or two to think about it though.’

‘Thank you, you don’t know how grateful I am,’ I said, relieved that another potential avenue had opened itself to me.

‘Final question, Aidan, and this is just for my own reference. If I do come by anyone who has what you’re looking for, I’m going to need to know who you are.’

I felt momentarily confused.

‘Um, what exactly do you need to know?’

‘Well, in order to arrange the trade. My father won’t do business with just anyone out of the blue so I need some background.’

I felt a light go on. ‘Oh, yes, of course. The transaction is on behalf of my company, Thrill Seeker Holdings.’

‘OK.’ He paused and I waited for some form of recognition but there was nothing. ‘OK, so you’re not just some hotshot enthusiast shouting his mouth off about something he
probably can’t afford?’

‘Absolutely not,’ I confirmed briskly. ‘Affordability is not a problem here. And I’m also more than happy to compensate you for any help you—’

‘OK, OK, I get it. New money, huh? I love you guys.’ Nate laughed but it wasn’t scornful or dismissive, the way some of his elders tended to be about people like me. Nate began
to wrap up the conversation. ‘All right, Aidan. Good talking to you. You get working on that list, and I will be in touch if I find out anything, I have your number from my caller
ID.’

‘Great.’ I gave him my cell-phone number too, seeing as I would be doing so much running around over the next few days.

‘Actually I’ve just thought of someone else you should definitely talk to because she’s in the know about pretty much anything and everything when it comes to stuff like
this.’

‘She?’ I repeated, surprised.

‘Oh yeah, you have no idea. She may not be an enthusiast herself, but boy does she have connections – a bigger network than AT&T. But I also have to make sure she’s in
town. She’s kind of like the mayor, if you know what I mean.’

‘Whatever you think is best, Nate. I’m at your mercy, just so you know.’

‘I know you are, Aidan. And it’s cool. This is just the distraction I needed. We’ll track down your perfect gift before the eighteenth if I have anything to do with
it.’

After I got off the phone with Nate Jr I took his advice and started going through the rest of the list, calling one person after the next, assuring them that I was contacting
them with Nate Cleaver-Park’s blessing.

Although I made notes along the way, keeping a record of whether I’d left a voicemail, talked to a real person, was forwarded to another phone number, or whatever else, when I eventually
got to the bottom of the names, I still hadn’t made any definite progress.

Feeling perplexed about what to do next, and antsy over the idea of just sitting around waiting for Nate to call me back, I took to the internet, my best friend in so many other less challenging
situations but perhaps not so much with this one.

After about half an hour I felt stiff from sitting in the same position for so long, essentially repeating the same information over and over. I had no idea how telemarketers did it and knew for
sanity’s sake, I needed to take a break. So, I pulled up Facebook and logged into the account that Mel had convinced me to register about a year ago. It still freaked me out a little, the
sheer amount of information that people put out into the ether about themselves, what they were doing, where they were, what they were thinking about, what they desired.

I momentarily considered posting a status update outlining my own query, but quickly reconsidered, knowing that there were certain things that firstly, didn’t need to be broadcast to all
and sundry and secondly, were unlikely to garner any type of response except useless ‘likes’. After all, the small group of people I was ‘friends’ with on the social network
weren’t exactly specialists in this area.