Chapter 18: The Paperwork
Marcus had gathered his audience, and like all men who mistake attention for agreement, he took it as permission to go further.
"Sofia, darling," he said, loud enough for the nearest guests to hear, "shall we make this official? The car is right here. The moment is right here. Let us buy it."
Sofia looked at him, then at the Solstice, then at the faces turning toward them.
"Marcus," she said, "we discussed a viewing. Not a purchase."
"A viewing is for people who are unsure," Marcus said, smiling broadly. "We are not unsure. We are serious buyers, and serious buyers do not waste a room's time."
He turned to Rosa, who stood nearby with her clipboard held like a shield.
"Rosa," he said, "we will take the car. Cash. Today. Have your little manager run the paperwork."
Rosa did not move. "Mr. Reid, as I explained, the Solstice is not for sale. It is a design study, and it is part of Mr. Alcott's farewell display."
"Everything is for sale at the right price," Marcus said, waving a hand. "That is the first rule of business. Name it. We will meet it."
"There is no price," Rosa said firmly. "There is no file. There is no paperwork to run."
Marcus laughed, but the laugh was thinner now. "Come now, Rosa. Do not be difficult in front of your guests. Get the little manager. Let us be adults about this."
He looked around the room, searching for someone junior enough to obey him, and his gaze landed on Mara, standing quietly near the podium in her simple dark dress.
"You," he said, pointing. "You helped with the flowers this morning. You can run the paperwork. It is simple. Buyer, seller, price, signature."
Mara set down her glass of water with care.
"Mr. Reid," she said, her voice calm and clear, "before anyone runs paperwork, I have a few questions."
Marcus blinked. "Questions? From event help?"
"From someone who wants the file to be correct," Mara said. "First, whose name goes on the purchase?"
"Mine, of course," Marcus said. "Marcus Reid. Managing director, Northgate Capital."
"And the funds?" Mara asked. "Cash, you said. From which account?"
Marcus hesitated, just a beat too long. "From our accounts. Jointly held. Sofia and I are partners in this."
Sofia's head turned sharply toward him. "Partners?" she said. "Marcus, we have never held an account jointly."
"A figure of speech, darling," Marcus said quickly. "I mean we are partners in life. The funds are there. That is what matters."
"Whose signature goes on the purchase?" Mara asked, still calm. "Yours, Mr. Reid? Or Ms. Lindqvist's?"
"Both, if needed," Marcus said. "Whatever the form requires. This is standard."
"Standard forms require a real buyer," Mara said. "And a real price. And a seller willing to sell. Which of those do we have here?"
A murmur ran through the nearest guests. Henry stepped closer, his sketchbook under his arm, watching Mara with quiet attention.
"Listen," Marcus said, his smile hardening, "I do not answer to event staff. Rosa, control your people. This woman is embarrassing your flagship."
"She is not embarrassing anyone," Rosa said, her voice like steel wrapped in velvet. "She is asking the questions any careful seller would ask."
"Careful?" Marcus said. "This is a party, not an audit."
"Then let us keep it a party," Mara said. "A party where no one signs anything they have not read, and no one buys a car that is not for sale."
Sofia looked at Mara then, really looked at her, and something shifted in her expression, as if a door had opened a crack in a room she thought she knew.
"Marcus," Sofia said slowly, "why did you tell me the viewing was private?"
"It is private enough," Marcus said. "Sofia, do not make a scene. These people are watching."
"They are watching," Sofia agreed. "That is rather the point."
Mara glanced at Henry, who gave her the smallest nod, the kind of nod a man gives when he trusts the person beside him to hold the line. She felt the compass in her pocket, steady and cool, and she thought of her mother saying that character counts most when no one is watching.
Mara held Sofia's gaze for a moment, steady and kind, and then turned back to Marcus.
"Mr. Reid," she said, "I suggest you enjoy the party. The Solstice will be here all evening. The paperwork, however, will not be happening today."
Marcus stared at her, his face reddening, his practiced smile finally slipping.
"We will see about that," he said.
"Yes," Mara said. "We will."
She picked up her glass again, her hand perfectly steady, and waited for the next move in a game she had not started but fully intended to finish.