we meet tonight?
“Everything okay?” Crystal asks, real concern in her voice.
“Sorry,” I say, sighing. “It’s Alexander. Apparently, he and my client know each other. It’s gotten complicated. He wants to meet tonight.”
“Tell him to come here. He knows where it’s at. The Red Bar.”
I hesitate. “Are you sure?”
“Of course. You have to take care of business.”
The waitress delivers our drinks, which look more like dessert, with chocolate drizzles and fancy glasses. I text Alexander the location and scoop chocolate from the rim of the glass onto my finger. “This looks like a perfect formula for drinking too much for my own good because it tastes too good.”
“Well, there is that, but never fear. I’m here. I’ll protect you.”
It’s something a true friend would say. Something it feels like we might become if I let us, but is that selfish? Do I put her at risk because of who I am? My phone buzzes again and I glance down and back up. “He’s on his way. Thank you, Crystal.”
She waves that off. “What are friends for if not to help you maneuver the Alexanders of the world? And I feel like we’re going to be fast friends.” She motions to my drink. “Now. Try the martini. I’m dying to see what you think.”
I pick up the glass and smile. “I don’t even have to taste it to know it’s good.” But I do. I sip and the sweet perfect liquid teases my tongue and hides the alcohol. “It’s dangerously good,” I say. “I’ll be drunk and not even know it.”
“That’s the joy of New York City.” She grins. “We are never behind the wheel. We hire a car or hop on the subway.”
I laugh and take another sip and good grief I can already feel the alcohol, a wave of loopiness threatening to take hold. As if she reads that moment, Crystal says, “So, what’s the story with you and Kace?”
“Right to the point,” I laugh.
She sips from her glass. “Is there any other way?”
“No, actually, I love your directness but there is no story. We just keep running into each other.”
He arches a brow. “And?”
“And nothing.” Now I sip from my glass, a generous sip, at that. I’m clearly going to need all the help I can get to continue this conversation.
Crystal sets her glass aside. “That, whatever that was I just witnessed between you two, was not nothing. I’ve known that man for years. I told you. He’s reserved. That was not Kace August being reserved.”
“I don’t think he’s as reserved as you might think he is with fans.”
“If that’s the route we’re taking, I’m a vocal fan as well, but he doesn’t look at me like he was just looking at you.”
“I don’t even know what you mean.”
“He gave you bedroom eyes. I mean, I was melting right there in the same room with you two.”
I open my mouth and shut it again. I don’t even know what to say. He’s hot and then cold. He’s touching me and then he’s just gone. “I think you’re reading more into whatever you think you saw, than is real.”
“I’m not, I’m absolutely not, but I’ll let it go.” She grabs a file and sets it on the table. “This is your VIP package. You have expanded details on each item, including the violin.”
“Who did the validation?”
“Ruth Othman. Do you know her?”
“I do,” I say and my lips thin with good reason. I’ve spent years of my life secretly learning from my father’s diaries and drawing. I know a true Stradivarius violin. I’ve studied Othman’s work and while she, and many others, believe in her accuracy, I, as a member of the Stradivari family, know better. She’s often wrong.
“Is it possible for me to get a look at the violin before the auction?” I ask.
“There’s quite a collection of photos in the folder and we’ll allow everyone bidding a closer look on the evening of the auction.”
“Not until the night of the auction?”
“It’s a long-standing rule when we’re dealing with high-value items at risk for damage or theft. And this seller has specific rules he expects us to follow.”
“Who’s the seller?”
“He wishes to remain anonymous to protect the remainder of his collection.”
Sofia, I think. Could it be Sofia? No. That makes no sense but this whole situation feels off in some obvious way I’m missing, but not as it relates to Crystal herself, which is why I let it go. For now. “Do I need to fill out anything else?”
“You’re