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“Not at all. I’m fascinated.”
“This your husband, lass?” said Mike.
Eliza laughed. “We actually met yesterday.”
“You’re pullin’ my leg, now, aren’t ya? Come on. How long have you been married?”
I put my arm around El’s shoulders. “I’ve been trying to talk her into it. Maybe you could put in a good word for me if she buys your building.”
The man studied me. There was something about his eyes that reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t place who it might be.
“I’m Eliza Fox, by the way.”
“You can call me Mike,” the man told her.
She studied him. “You’re Michael Beaumont.”
He looked from her to me, then back again.
“I was. Now, I’m just Mike.”
Eliza held out her hand, and the two shook. “It’s an honor to meet you, sir,” I heard her say quietly.
He motioned with his head at me. “That one trustworthy?”
“Very much so. Neither of us will say a word. Oh, Mike, this is Leviticus Marras.”
“Marras, you say?”
“Yes, sir,” I responded, also shaking his hand.
“Your father is Marcello.”
“He is.” I immediately realized why he looked vaguely familiar, at least his eyes. Before I was born, my father had commissioned a sculpture from Michael Beaumont that sat in the garden of their home in the Cotswolds. The reason he looked familiar was my dad had a book about his work.
“How are your parents?”
“Quite well, thank you.”
He looked over at Eliza. “Ready for the tour?”
“Please.” Her look of excited anticipation reminded me of a kid going on their first roller coaster.
As I followed along, Mike pointed out the ventilation system for not just one but two kilns. There were occasional words I understood mixed in with many I didn’t, but watching El, they both could’ve been speaking a foreign language and I still would’ve been enraptured.
“Will you excuse us, Mr. Marras?” Mike asked about an hour into the tour.
“Of course, but please call me Levi.” I winked at Eliza, and she winked back.
15
ELIZA
I’d never been the impetuous sort, but owning Michael Beaumont’s building, complete with his equipment, was too good a deal to pass up. Yes, it would mean spending a lot of time in Brighton rather than London, but I’d always liked it here.
While I didn’t know much about the value of commercial property, that it sat adjacent to the beach would mean it would fetch a premium price. There was always a chance that, if someone else bought it, they would tear it down and build either a house or an apartment building in its stead, not realizing its historical significance.
“I’ll take it,” I said, turning around to look at Mike.