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“Would the Bijou Gala at the Musée d’Orsay work as a suitable substitute?”
I stiffen, sharply snapping my eyes from my phone to Gavan.
“I’m sorry,what?”
His brow cocks, a smug grin curling the corners of his mouth.
“The Bijou Gala, at—”
“I heard what yousaid,” I arch my brows. “It’s also one of the most exclusive art fundraising galas in the world.”
“Indeed.”
“And it’stonight.”
“Correct.”
“InParis.”
“A-plus for geography.”
I grin as I playfully slap his arm.
“It also sells out a year in advance, and the tickets are a hundred thousand dollars each.”
He rakes his fingers down his jaw, looking at me impassively.
“You haven’t answered me. Would it suffice in lieu of a private tour this evening at the Met?”
I snort. “I mean,yeah. But it’s not a realistic—”
Gavan reaches for his phone and starts texting someone. “Numbers. You, your sister, Calliope I’m assuming, as well as Elsa and her sister.”
I stare at him. “Gavan, what are you—”
He barrels on ahead. “I’m going to assume there’s not a chance in hell Hades or Ares allows their wife to get on a plane with me without coming too, so they’re in.” He frowns at the ceiling. “Castle can come,ifhe fucking behaves himself.” He looks over at me. “Will your uncle and Una be joining us?”
“Uh, I don’t—”
“I’ll include them as maybes just in case. Then you and I, of course.”
He finishes sending his text and then rolls his neck. The phone dings in his hand, and he nods curtly at it.
“Excellent. We’re all set.”
My eyes go wide.
“I’m sorry, what just happened?”
“We’re in for the Bijou Gala.”
My jaw drops. “Allof us?”
His brow furrows. “Does Nora still pal around with Galina Kaminksi?”
“I…think so?”
“Ah. Then it’stenof us with two maybes.” He texts again, and nods curtly at the instant response before dropping the phone. “We’re set.”
