The Doll Brokers (10 page)

“Yeah,” he said finally. “That's what scares the hell out of me.”

A
t 2:00 that afternoon, with mixed feelings of trepidation and hope, Ann marched out of the hotel and into her meeting with Twekesborough.

She recalled a time when the toy industry was different in Europe. A handshake could solidify a deal and the deal was rarely broken. Courtesy and respect for relationships and history took precedence over the almighty dollar. Not any longer, unfortunately. Today, some of the worst elements of doing business in the United States were gradually seeping through here, and few of the old values continued to thrive.

Still, Ann had come to London first because of England's potential. With a population of slightly over sixty-three million, she figured the volume on the doll could run anywhere from seventy-five to a hundred thousand pieces. She wanted to get off to a good start.

Twekesborough's second welcome in the last number of hours remained effusive. He ushered Ann into his office in the same manner as he had greeted her at the airport—with a big, sloppy hug. Ann glanced warily at Jonathan, who glared at them, pouted, stalked to a chair and sat. Ann couldn't believe her eyes. What the hell was wrong with him? Suddenly she felt grateful to be sitting across from Twekesborough. He would make everything easy.

“Tea?” Mark offered.

“No, thanks,” Ann said. “I had my fill at the hotel.”

“None for me,” Jonathan said, hooking an ankle over his knee. “Real men don't sip from china.”

Ann stared at him. He was at it again.

Twekesborough dragged up a smile, then looked at Jonathan and fought back a little. “You know, you used to be good company.”

“I still am. In my element.”

“As I remember, you were never enthralled with the business.”

“Let's just say it currently has my attention.”

“Well, then.” He turned back to Ann. “Show me what all the excitement is about.”

Ann placed the box she was carrying in her lap. She removed the doll and lifted her above her head. Baby Talk N Glow giggled.

“Clever.” Mark said, a grin on his face.

Ann moved around to the other side of Twekesborough's desk and stood next to him. As if cradling a real baby, she gingerly laid the doll down on the teak surface. When Baby Talk N Glow left her arms, she cried. Then Ann tickled her stomach and the doll laughed. She touched her cheek and Baby Talk N Glow blushed. Ann tried to contain the evident pleasure she felt at the doll's performance.

“Whoa,” Twekesborough said. “Impressive.”

“Put your hand on her chest, her heart beats. And there are no discernable wires. It's all controlled by a computer chip, powered by a miniature nickel cadmium battery that will last five years.” That, she thought, was the technology that set the doll apart.

Twekesborough reached for Baby Talk N Glow. He touched her nose.

“That's my nose,” the doll said, and Twekesborough jumped a little in surprise. He gripped her foot.

“That's my foot,” she said.

He tweaked one of her toes.

“That's my toe.”

“Kids will love this.” He was practically gushing.

“I know.” Ann sat down again, pleased. She didn't look at Jonathan but could feel him leaning forward in his own seat.

“Of course, the voice would have to be changed for us, to get a British accent,” Mark said. “We can do the digital master here and forward it to Hong Kong.” He paused. “And how much will this little baby cost me?”

Ann took a breath before forging ahead. “Ten dollars and fifty cents.” They both knew that the doll would ship directly from China to England, and that her company's profit was included in the price.

Twekesborough fumbled with the doll as though she had bitten him. “Lord, Annie. That's high.”

“
Annie?
” Jonathan repeated.

Ann ignored his comment and focused on Twekesborough. “Retail in the States is going to be ten dollars higher than what you would normally pay for this type of doll,” she said. “Twenty-nine ninety-nine.”

“Oh? And how are your American customers reacting to that?”

“I'm still about two weeks away from approaching them.”

“What if they won't go for the price?”

“Then I'll cancel the project, and you'll be the first to know.”

Jonathan made an odd sound in his throat. Ann's brow furrowed. Her tension was starting to go sub-dural now. Unconsciously, she rubbed her neck.

“How many pieces would you like me to commit to?” Twekesborough asked.

She needed a strong commitment from England; there was simply no getting around it. “A hundred thousand.”

“Bloody hell!” Mark exploded.

“Not that infatuated with her, are you?” Jonathan asked, inclining his head to let it be known he was talking about Ann,
not the doll. Ann gasped at his rudeness, but Twekesborough only laughed.

“Actually, I am,” he replied. “And I know what she's capable of.” He paused. “All right, Annie. I'm in.”

Ann gave him her warmest smile.

Twekesborough rose and reached for her hand. Ann stood as well and gave it to him. Rather than shake it, he took it and pressed it to his lips. “Please let me know how it goes.” He said. “I think she's a winner.”

“Mark, thank you for your confidence. It means the world to me. And of course, I'll keep you posted.”

“Do you have time for an early dinner?”

“Normally that would be lovely, but I think we'd better grab something at the airport.” She stopped his protest before he could voice it. “These trips are so grueling, Mark. I appreciate the offer, but I don't want to rush anymore than I have to.

He seemed genuinely disappointed. “I'll have my car drop you off, then.”

“Wonderful. Thanks.”

Ann turned from the desk and found Jonathan was already gone. By the time she got downstairs and outside, he was in the car. She slid onto the rear seat beside him.

“Let's go,
Annie
,” he said.

Ann's jaw was tight enough to hurt. “Your behavior was an outrage.”

“Yeah. Well, his fawning was pretty nauseating.”

“Fawning?”

He caught her hand and kissed it hard. “Fawning,” he defined.

Ann snatched her hand back. “Stop it.”

“What kind of personal relationship do the two of you have?” he asked.

Ann fumed. “Explain personal.”

“Did you sleep with him?”

She had to choke back her anger. This was something she always had to fight her way around. “No.”

“Well, you do
something
to him. He's all ga-ga over you.”

“And how is that any of your business?”

“I'm just curious.”

“Did you ever think I might not have gotten the commitment we needed if I'd looked more like you … and displayed your disposition?”

He shot her a wry look. “That doll is pretty impressive. I didn't realize she could do all that.”

“Felicia's no fool. The doll is amazing and Felicia is crazy about her. She sees her potential.”

“Will you really scrap the project if you meet with resistance on the price in the States?”

“Of course not.”

“Okay,” he said finally. “Then let's make sure this doll flies for my mother.”

Ann hesitated, then nodded. She felt some of the tension slide off her skin. A truce had been called. She hoped it could last for more than one afternoon.

O
ctober in Madrid dripped with sunshine, snug beneath a cloudless sky that was a quintessential blue. This time they were met at the airport by Seve Marques.

In direct contrast to Twekesborough, there was nothing endearing about Marques. Ann watched him approach, feeling herself stiffen. He was thin and sharp-edged, with a pencil-slash of a mustache. His hair was full and perfectly black despite the fact that Ann knew he had at least twenty-five years on her.

He stepped between her and Jonathan when they passed though the gate, shutting Jonathan out as insignificant to the equation. He might well be, Ann thought, but it was still disrespectful. “Welcome. Your trip was good?” Marques caught her hand and kept holding it. They took four, five, six steps into the concourse before Ann managed to slide her fingers free.

“Madrid is our third destination in as many days,” she answered. “You know how it is.”

“Ah, you should relax then before we talk business. Let me take you to lunch.”

Ann thought of wine at mid-day, of four courses and paella. Her stomach lurched at the thought. She was exhausted, but she knew Spain was going to be tough. There was no sense antagonizing
Marques by refusing his offer. “Wonderful,” she murmured.

They piled into a small black sedan with seats as soft as butter. Ann wanted to draw her feet up beneath her, snuggle in, but she and both men were cupped together like triplets in a womb, and there wasn't enough space. Marques sat between her and Jonathan. He shifted his weight until his hip slid closer to hers.

“Jonathan, how are you doing over there?” Ann asked to forestall any cute or caustic comment he might have. His behavior with Twekesborough was still fresh in her mind.

“Real peachy,
cara mia
.”

“Any particular reason you're speaking Italian in Spain?” she asked.

“We're in Spain? When did we get here?” he responded.

Ann smiled. She knew what he was feeling. The three days they'd spent in Europe felt like twice that amount. She eased her weight against the door, trying to escape the press of Marques's body. The car inched up in front of a restaurant that offered
al fresco
dining. Wrought iron tables under a red canopy. Flower boxes spilled leaves and petals over a barrier rail.

“I'm sorry—what?” Ann glanced at Marques. He had said something to her while they were being seated.

“May I see the doll?” he repeated. “Perhaps I am being premature. We should wait until after we dine. But you've piqued my curiosity.” His hand moved to her thigh to coax her.

Ann crossed her legs the other way to avoid his touch. She reached for the box she'd placed under her chair.

“You're a skittish American lady.” His voice was an undertone, meant only for her ears.

She wanted his business. Desperately. But her thigh wasn't part of the deal. Ann crossed her legs again when his hand came back.

She was shaking a little. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. She was too tired to deal with this sort of thing right now.

Jonathan reached across and took the doll off her hands. “She's a barracuda,” he said.

Marques shifted in his chair, more or less acknowledging him for the first time. “Your baby doll?”

“No. The American lady.”

“Ah.” Marques's grin showed teeth. “She is
your
lady?”

“Do I look suicidal? But you're not buying her, right? You want
this
little girl.” Jonathan held up the doll.

“Yes, of course.”

He went through Baby Talk N Glow's routine, going so far as to add a few of his own improvisations.

He'd picked it up well, Ann thought. In spite of herself, she was almost grateful to Jonathan for taking over, and she smiled slightly at the sight of him, the macho artist, with a doll in his hands.

When Marques asked about the doll's battery and location, Ann found Jonathan's foot under the table and pressed down hard to warn him not to answer. To her astonishment, she felt him kick her. She winced with pain, but before she could field the question herself, he answered.

“It's a secret.” Jonathan reached and took the doll back from Marques' hands. “It's tucked up so neat and tidy, even I don't know where it is.”

“And who are you?” It finally occurred to Marques to ask.

“A genuine, bona fide Morhardt.”

Marques looked to Ann doubtfully. “So who knows where the battery is?”

She suddenly felt playful. “I do,” she said, “and if you commit to a hundred thousand pieces, I promise to tell you.” Ann knew where Marques was going with this.

“One hundred thousand pieces? For that amount, I would need a sample. I have associates. I cannot make such a decision myself.”

“Sorry. No sample,” she said, knocking his hand off her knee again. He looked startled, then frowned.

The waiter came for their order. For the next thirty minutes, Ann sipped wine and picked at the rich paella which, under different circumstances, she would have enjoyed immensely. She declined desert and when the meal was over, she stood to stretch and found she was suddenly woozy. She started towards the ladies' room when she felt a hand on her elbow and tried to jerk it away. The hand held fast.

It was Jonathan next to her, steadying her. “You okay?” he whispered.

“Just peachy,
cara mia
.”

He noted the look in her eyes. “You're buzzed,” he said. Then he added, “Let's get out of here. We're wasting our time.”

Ann shook her head. “We've got Lothario's car—which, I might add, contains our luggage. And we have to preserve appearances with him for the next time around. There's a future beyond this doll, Jonathan.”

“Is there?”

She thought about it for a fraction of a second. “Well, actually, maybe not.”

“Okay then. Lothario can kiss my ass.”

He kept her elbow and steered her toward the street. He found a cab and pushed her inside, then he went back to get their luggage from Marques's driver. Marques was still in the restaurant, taking care of the bill.

“Where are we going?” he asked Ann when he got in the cab.

“Damned if I know,” she muttered. “Old Seve made our hotel arrangements.”

She leaned into him a little when the cab turned a corner. Jonathan caught her shoulder and shoved her upright. “Okay. I know Madrid pretty well.”