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He seemed to be implying that Patrick was behind the investigations into the provenance of Aleksander’s paintings. Although LWC Capital hadn’t hired Emma, she hoped that Patrick was investigating Aleksander. Even if she couldn’t get out of the task Aleksander had given her, with any luck, someone would discover something illegal and he’d be taken down a few notches.
“Indeed, they do. I distinctly remember you throwing quite a fit when your team lost to mine in the intramural competition in freshman year. Didn’t you break a vase or two?”
“Perhaps, but that’s just because I care about sports. I also remember you throwing a bit of a tantrum when you lost out to me for valedictorian in senior year.”
“I did.” Patrick nodded and took a sip of his champagne glass. “Although I wouldn’t exactly call it a tantrum. Reporting you to the dean was the right thing to do, what with all the cheating.”
“Allegations, allegations.” Aleksander swept a patriarchal smile over the assembled men. “Patrick here always liked to blow the whistle on me when I was better than him, but it’s not exactly my fault that I’m just a hair smarter here and there.”
Emma watched the men lob thinly veiled jabs back and forth, all under the guise of teasing each other about their school days. The reason why Aleksander wanted Aurora was slowly becoming clearer. It was probably less about the painting than about getting back at Patrick for some slight, either real or imagined. The two men were extremely competitive, more so than Emma had seen between any two people who weren’t Olympic-level athletes or courtroom lawyers. And their competitiveness seemed to go all the way back to their college days.
She had to imagine that the feud stemmed more from Aleksander than Patrick. From what she knew about the two men, she knew it was much more likely that Aleksander did cheat and that Patrick was simply doing all he could to keep things fair. She herself knew, for instance, that Patrick was right when he mentioned the dubious provenance of some of Aleksander’s paintings. Still, from the way the two spoke, it seemed that they were both very invested in whatever feud they had going on — and from the amused expressions of the other men, she assumed it wasn’t the first time they’d had this kind of interaction.
“—and I never did find that trophy,” Patrick finished, shaking his head with a dramatized expression of cluelessness.
“Well, you wouldn’t have won it in the first place if I hadn’t been sick the day of the race.”
“Sick? More like hungover.”
“What can I say?” Aleksander shrugged. “I’ve always lived it up. Not like some people here.” He raised his eyebrows at Patrick.
That jab might have been a little more deserved than the others. From what Emma had seen of Patrick, he was a next-level workaholic who rarely took time away from the office for pleasure.
“Perhaps my dedication to my work is my secret to success,” Patrick suggested.
“Sure, but what kind of success? One of us is definitely more popular with the ladies.” Aleksander shot Emma a flirtatious smile that made her stomach turn. Oh, no. She’d been content to stand here while Aleksander and Patrick bickered, but if she was being brought back into the conversation, she’d rather leave.
Not that she could.
“Well, Emma is here with me tonight, not you. If that’s what you’re referring to.” Patrick held out his arm to Emma. “Speaking of which, I wanted to ask her opinion on a certain piece of art. If you’d excuse us.”
Or perhaps she could leave. Feeling more grateful than she’d expected, Emma took Patrick’s arm and let herself be led away from the group of men. Patrick’s muscles rippled under her finger tips as they stepped around a table of hors d’oeuvres.
“What painting did you want to discuss?” Emma asked politely. She wanted to thank Patrick for whisking her away or perhaps point out how incredibly entitled Aleksander was, but this was supposed to be a professional occasion.
“There isn’t a specific painting I had in mind,” Patrick told her. “Although I would like to get your opinion on the art in general and hear any suggestions you might have on what I should bid on, what I really wanted was to get a moment alone with you.” His eyes seemed to darken as he said the last bit, going from the light blue of a summer sky to the deep blue of a stormy ocean.
Emma’s heart fluttered at the suggestion that he wanted to spend time with her and at his expression. She’d noticed how attractive he was, but until now she’d never had any indication that he might feel the same way.
“You did?” Her voice was a little lower than she’d intended.
“And, of course, I wanted to get you away from those jerks,” Patrick added, his tone now much more casual. Maybe Emma had imagined the change in his eyes. It was better this way, anyway. As she kept reminding herself, he was a mark. Even if he was attracted to her, it wouldn’t change anything. Except perhaps getting her easier access to the painting.
“Aren’t they your friends?” Emma asked teasingly.
“Well, Kareem and Ruben are something close to friends, but Aleksander is definitely not. We’ve known each other a long time, and I doubt we’ve had even one pleasant conversation since we met.”
“What happened?” Emma asked. “I mean, you can’t have just looked at each other for the first time and decided to be rivals.”
“I think he started to hate me a little when I beat him out for class president in our freshman year. That was the first time we went head-to-head on anything. Since then, we’ve continually found ourselves in competition. At first it was mainly by chance, but since then we’ve both tried to beat the other out at something.”
“I can see that. Is your rivalry mostly historical or are you still trying to win?”
“Oh, it’s definitely still going on. Just a few weeks ago, I purchased a painting at auction that I knew Aleksander wanted and he was very upset. If there had been some way for him to cheat and get it from me anyway, he would have. I’m sure of it.”
Emma’s heart clenched. She was certain that Patrick was talking about Aurora. And she was the one helping Aleksander cheat. For a moment, she wanted to confess everything to Patrick and hope he could help, but there was no way he’d trust her after that. He’d probably turn her in to the authorities himself.
“I see,” she said delicately.
