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“All I know is that they both go way back. Actually, they all do, Mark included, and long before I was around. How did it go with Alexander?”
“He has some personal vendetta with my client. He wants to outbid him on any bottle I find worth buying, which isn’t ethical. I have to choose one or the other.”
“And clearly the highest bidder isn’t what matters to you.”
“I won’t deny that I’m motivated by money, because that’s business, but I’m not inclined to get in the middle of a war. I don’t know who did who wrong, but ethically, Ed was my client first.”
“If you’re not in the middle of the war, then business is business. I’d take the higher offer, but then, I do run an auction house. That’s the nature of our business. I can vouch for Alexander, by the way. I don’t know what’s between him and Ed besides you, but he’s good for any promise he makes.”
Besides me, I repeat in my mind. Am I in between Kace and Alexander?
“That reminds me,” Crystal says before I get too far down that rabbit hole. “I have that list of bottles I told you I’d have soon. Unfortunately, they won’t arrive until next month, but they’re prizes.” She sets her coffee down and rushes to her desk and hands me a small envelope. “That’s a top-secret sneak peek.” She sits down.
“Thank you.” I stick the envelope in my bag. “Also, unfortunately, Alexander will likely be bidding and he’s not going to let me win for Ed.”
“You do have a dilemma on your hands.” Her cellphone buzzes with a text and she hurries back to her desk to grab it, groaning. “Duty calls. I need to deal with some new product arriving.”
And just like that my chance to talk to her about the violin is lost. I stand up and grab my bag. I’m about to ask about getting together again, and away from here when she beats me to the punch. “Lunch later this week?”
“I’d love that,” I say, and I would.
She heads for the door and calls over her shoulder, “I’ll call you.”
And then she’s gone, leaving me in her office alone, showing me trust. Because that’s what friends do, I remind myself. They trust each other. And that’s where Gio and I differ. He doesn’t feel like a secret is a lie, but I do. A secret is a lie, the kind that destroys anything real in our lives.
I exit the office and immediately come face to face with the ever stoic and intimidating Mark Compton. “Ms. Alard,” he greets. “I see you’re becoming a regular fixture around here.”
“Crystal and I had coffee,” I say and I swallow all reservations. “Actually,” I add, preparing to make my case the way I’d practiced in bed last night. “I’m glad I ran into you. Crystal had to take off before I could talk to her about something important. My client, the one bidding on the violin, has actually spent time in Italy with one of the Stradivari family members.”
“They’re all dead, Ms. Alard.”
“Actually, just missing since the early 2000s, but fortunately for my client, he was there before that tragedy. He knows how to spot a fake Stradivarius and he’s taught me as well. If I could just—”
“Look at the photos.”
“They’re incomplete,” I argue.
“They’re quite detailed.” He does not sound pleased.
I’m not backing down. I can’t back down. “Not detailed enough.”
“We’ve included an expert validation included in your VIP package.”
“She’s not the expert I’d choose.”
He arches a brow. “Let me guess. You believe you know better than her, an expert.”
“My client is the expert, as am I, through him.”
“You are quite the pushy one, but you won’t win with me, Ms. Alard. You can see the violin when everyone else sees it.” And with that, he steps around me and enters his wife’s office.
I want to follow him, but I leave it alone. I need to talk to Crystal. Decision made, I hurry forward, and just as I’m walking past the front desk, Amber calls my name. “This was left for you.”
Hurrying to the desk, I accept the envelope in her hand, assuming that it’s something Crystal forgot to add to my package. “Thank you.” I shove it in my bag.
Once I’m bundled up and outside, hoping that there might be more photos inside, I step to the side of the door. Grabbing the envelope, I stare at the masculine writing and my belly flutters. I open the flap and pull out a sheet of music, titled, “Aria” and it’s not just music. It’s lyrics: She’s a mystery and a song, a shadow in the light—
My gaze jerks to the bottom of the page, where there’s a note: Just in case you’re wondering, you’re on my mind.
I gasp. My God.
