A Fine Imitation Read Free Page A

more than just a passing detail.
    Bea turned, eyes shining. “Finally. What does Arthur look like? He must be handsome. Is he rich?”
    “He is terribly handsome,” Vera admitted. She ignored Bea’s last question, leaving a discussion of Arthur’s financial situation for a more private conversation. A maid appeared at her elbow, and Vera nodded. As the maid spooned green beans onto their plates, Vera tried to keep her voice low until the woman stepped away. “Tall, with dark hair. Not too slender. He’s about ten years older, and very sophisticated.”
    Bea wrinkled her nose. “You sound like you’re describing a building. What are his eyes like? His lips?” She drew out the last word with relish, and Vera’s cheeks warmed.
    “Goodness, does everyone in Atlanta talk like that in public?”
    “Just me, as far as I know. Aren’t you lucky I came your way?” Bea chewed thoughtfully on a green bean. “So, dark hair. Tall. Promising start.”
    Vera fixed a hard gaze on her food. “His eyes are lovely. They’re pale blue, like crystal.”
    “Like forget-me-nots?”
    “More silvery than that. I’ve never seen eyes like his.”
    “Now, that sounds like something a lover might say. Much better.” Bea offered a quiet clap.
    Vera glanced at the neighboring tables. “Do you have a beau?” she asked quickly.
    Bea laughed. “You’ve seen the reaction I get from girls. Can you imagine what men think of me?”
    “You’re pretty, outgoing, smart…I’d think your beaus would be tripping over each other.”
    “If I meet a man I like, I’ll have you write me a letter of reference. My own mother wouldn’t be so complimentary.”
    “I don’t know. It sounds like you get along well with her,” Vera said. Bea had described a soft-spoken, sweet woman with a wicked sense of humor that belied her poise.
    “I do. Most of the time.” Bea shrugged. “But never mind her. What do you and Arthur do together? Hopefully more than sit in the parlor.”
    “He took me to the soda fountain,” Vera said, with a hopeful lift in her voice.
    Bea sighed. “I was hoping for something more interesting than the soda fountain.”
    “Well…once we took a walk on the beach. He even took his shoes off.” Vera laughed at the memory, but the look on Bea’s face suggested the thought of a barefoot Arthur was not as funny to someone who didn’t know him personally. Her laugh died away.
    Bea placed a hand on Vera’s arm. “As long as you like him, that’s the important thing. He sounds…he sounds very nice.”
    “I do like him,” Vera said. She really did. There was something so solid about Arthur, like an anchor in rough waters. What better man to marry than one she could depend on? He might not be exciting, but Vera reassured herself there were qualities in a husband more important than being exciting. Anyway, as long as Vera stayed friends with Bea, she doubted she’d have to worry about a lack of excitement in her life.

The knots that gathered in Vera’s shoulders during every visit with her mother began to untangle as she headed home after lunch to the Angelus building. Her husband, Arthur, had built the Angelus in 1919, intending to make the other luxury properties springing up on Park Avenue look like tenement housing. He may not have shamed them to that extent, but there was no question that the building dominated the block, as he and Vera dominated the society within the building. Four golden angel statues topped the roof, their wings tucked, and they glared down at Vera as she left her car and went into the lobby.
    She nodded a greeting to the elevator operator as she stepped on, and he took her up to the twentieth floor. She let herself into the penthouse, her low heels clicking on the green marble floor of the foyer. A tall, silver-haired man in a dark suit came in at the sound. His long nose and pinched face always put Vera in mind of an eagle, fixed on some prey in the distance. She removed her gloves, and he