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“That’s okay,” I told him. “I’m just here to meet someone.”
“Very good, miss,” he said with a polite nod. “But I do hope you return and enjoy a meal with us.”
Since he was neither sobbing nor fighting, I suspected that there was another magical immune and I was tempted to give him my card and tell him to call me, but I’d never seen a waiter that dedicated, and I’d hate to interfere with a true calling like that. Besides, working at a place like this, he probably earned more than he’d make at MSI in the verification department.
I picked my way across the room, stepping around shards of glass and china. When I glanced over my shoulder to see how Owen was doing, I barely stopped myself from crying out a warning as the airplane dove at him. I remembered just in time that he was the diversion, and me shouting would defeat the purpose. He heard the sound and ducked, much to my relief. I forced myself to turn away and focus on my own mission.
When I got closer to Jonathan Martin, I saw that he had deep cuts down his face. He looked like a tigress had clawed him. No wonder the receptionist was afraid of the fiancée, I thought. “Mr. Martin?” I asked tentatively.
He turned to me with an expression that made me want to go read Russian literature to cheer myself up. “She took it. I bought it as a gift, but then it was too beautiful to give, and she took it away from me.”
“Is she gone?” I asked. “Where did she go?”
“I don’t know. She left. She said she didn’t have to put up with this nonsense.” He started sobbing then and barely choked out, “We hadn’t even had dessert, and I’d arranged for something special.”
I took a tissue out of my purse and handed it to him, then patted him on the shoulder. “It’s okay,” I told him. “Everything will be okay. Maybe it’ll make you feel better to tell me about her.”
He blew his nose into the tissue. “I don’t know what I’ll do without her.”
“Surely she hasn’t gone forever. You’ll see her soon.”
“She won’t need me now. She has it. She can have anything she wants.”
“I doubt that’s true. Look at you, what woman wouldn’t want someone like you?” Well, what gold digger wouldn’t, but I was too nice to say that.
A tiny glimmer of hope shone in his eyes. “You think so?”
“Of course. I could even talk to her for you. Just tell me how I can find her.” Really, all I needed was her name, but since I was acting like I knew her to get him to talk to me, I could hardly come right out and ask it.
“She has some thing tonight—one of her projects. That’s why we had to celebrate her birthday at lunch.”
Now we were getting somewhere. “What thing? She has so many projects, you know.” I gave a little laugh, like I was well aware of the mystery woman’s foibles.
“A gala. I’m not going. She said it was far too late for me to be out. Past my bedtime. My Sweetie-pie looks after my health, you know.”
I tried not to wince. It sounded like the poor man needed an intervention. The woman must have been using his money to gain a social position for herself while cutting him out of society. “That’s very considerate of her,” I said halfheartedly. “You don’t know where the gala will be or what it’s about?”
“Sweetie-pie said I shouldn’t worry myself.”
But what is Sweetie-pie’s name? I wanted to shout, but I suspected that yelling at him would only make him cry. Surely it wouldn’t be too hard to track down a billionaire’s fiancée who was involved in a gala happening that night. I thought I’d try one last line of questioning where he might be more helpful. “When she took it away, was it in a box?”
“It was in a jewelry case lined with dark velvet.” His eyes went unfocused as he added, “It was so beautiful nestled in that little box, the gold and the sapphire against the velvet. I never should have given it to her. It should have been mine.” He broke down in sobs again.
There was a surge of magic from across the room, followed by a series of thuds, and I looked up to see the people I assumed were wizards slumping to the floor. The elves had just lost their distraction, which meant it was time to get away from Martin before the elves noticed me with him.
I gave Mr. Martin one more pat on the shoulder before standing up. He tried to hand me the tissue I’d given him, but I smiled and said, “You can keep it.”
“Thank you so much,” he sobbed.
“And you should probably see a doctor about those scratches on your face. You don’t want those getting infected.”
He clutched my hand. “You’re so kind to care.”
Feeling guilty about leaving him, I hurried back across the room to stand at Owen’s side as Lyle Redvers, the elf from the jewelry store, said, “Palmer, I’m sure you didn’t come here just to interrupt our search.”
“Actually, I heard they serve a good lunch here.”
“I know what you’re after, Palmer.”
