Page 56 of Don't Tell

“Your aunt.” I look at the page for a beat longer than I meant to.

“Yeah. My inspiration.”

I close the book. I set it on the roof of the car.

I pull her to me.

I kiss her.

Her hand comes up to my chest, and she kisses me back.

When I pull away, her forehead rests against mine for the length of one breath.

"Try not to worry, okay? I'll see you tonight."

"Okay."

"Suzanne…I…" The words burn the back of my throat. “I need you.”

"I know."

She gives me a smile and turns. She walks to the service elevator, gets on, and does not look back.

I put the sketchbook on the passenger seat and drive to the city.

The lobby of the Nightingale building feels half-awake, like the building itself is still groggy. The atmosphere is muted and unhurried. Rush hour doesn't start till 8:00 a.m. The receptionist stands. The doorman straightens. Neil Sutton is by the elevators with a thermos.

He sees me and sticks his nose up.

Charming.

I don't greet him. I get in the elevator without him.

I go straight to my assistant's desk. Marisol is not in yet. Neither is Tomas. James is already at his desk.

"Mr. Nightingale." He stands when he sees me.

I put the sketchbook on his desk. He looks at it, but doesn’t open it yet. "I want you to make scans of this by noon — everypage. When the scans are done, courier the physical book back to my suite at the Cresswell. I want it on my counter. The book itself does not leave my possession."

"Absolutely, Mr. Nightingale."

"Once the scans are ready, send them to three contacts. The small-gallery owner, Eli Brandt. The independent advisor, Naomi Ortiz. The mentor at the Bay Area program, Marcus Lin. You have all three in my contacts?"

"Yes."

"Good. The communication is personal. Discreet. The artist is working independently and is not affiliated with Nightingale in any way. The introduction is from me as a courtesy. There is no commission. There is no expectation. If they're interested, they reach out to me, and we set up a meeting through me, not through the company. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mr. Nightingale."

"And, James…ensure this is not in the system or in anyone’s inbox, except yours. I trust that's clear."

"Crystal."

"Thank you."

He nods once and slides the book under his elbow as though he has already decided to keep it close and goes back to his screen.

I walk to my office and close the door. I sit down at the desk and look at the chair across from it where Adrian Maddox sat three days ago. I'll deal with him when I have to. He came to my office to show off. He came to the sidewalk at Mission to prove a point. After all these years, he's finally got the tools to bring me down, and he's using them.