Page 82

“I don’t know.”

“But you think it could be?” I asked.

“I think we need to find out.”

“It feels different now. At the time, it sounded friendly. Now it feels like she already knew who I was.”

Alexander was quiet for a few seconds. “She may have. I’ll ask Marcus to see what he can find.”

“Okay.”

About halfway home, Alexander reached across the center console and took my hand. I watched the afternoon sunlight catch the edge of his profile. I was becoming accustomed to these moments.

Alexander broke the comfortable silence. “Do you have plans tomorrow evening?”

“No.”

He nodded once, his attention still on the road. “There’s an annual dinner at Blackwood Hall. Trustees. Members of the Board. Donors. They’re important evenings. They also tend to be rather long.”

“I can imagine,” I said.

“I was hoping you’d join me.”

I looked at him, surprised by the quiet honesty in his voice. “I’d like that.”

He lifted my hand to his lips and gave it a gentle kiss.

* * *

By the time Alexander walked me to my door, the sun hung low, casting the last warm light of the day across Blackwood Hall.

“Tomorrow evening,” he said, his hand resting lightly on the doorknob.

“I’ll be ready.”

A smile touched his mouth. “I know you will.”

He leaned forward, pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead and stepped back. “Good night, Emilia.”

“Good night, Alexander.”

As I reached for the door, his voice stopped me. “I’ll leave after I hear the lock.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know.” His answer was so simple, so matter-of-fact, that I caught myself smiling as I stepped inside. I locked the deadbolt and heard his footsteps retreat down the corridor.

I slipped out of my shoes and let the evening slow around me. After a warm shower, I applied scented body lotion, completed my skin care, and changed into my softest pajamas.

I made a cup of chamomile tea and carried it to the reading nook beside the window. I reached for the novel that had been waiting patiently on the small table beside my chair. Outside, dusk settled over the gardens. Lamps blinked on one by one along the winding paths below, their light reflecting softly against the pavement.

I was three pages in when I received an email notification on my phone from Priya. She had submitted the Vienna abstract. I smiled as I read the confirmation. Before I had finished reading the email, my phone rang.

It was Charlotte. I answered on the second ring.

“Tell me everything.”

I laughed. “I thought you were spending the afternoon at the museum.”