of you.”
His words spark a warm glow. If my feet didn’t hurt so much in these heels I would feel like I’m floating on air. I didn’t let him down at my first task – and I might make a difference to the people who will be using this hospital wing. It feels great, and I know my mom would be proud of me, too.
“Grace!”
I freeze, recognizing that voice. In an instant, my warm glow fades. Lydia Forbes, my former boss from hell, strides up, tailed by the snooty intern at Carringer’s, Chelsea.
“Hello, Lydia,” I say politely. “How are you?”
Lydia gushes. “I’m good, but you two look amazing! I just love the pieces you chose, Grace.”
What?
I’m too stunned to speak. St. Clair says, “Yes, she has quite the eye. I’m thrilled she agreed to work for me.”
“Congratulations,” Lydia says to me. Then to St. Clair, “You know, with all the hullabaloo at Carringer’s, I may be in the market for other opportunities myself. If you know of any openings…”
I forcibly clench my jaw to keep it from dropping to the floor. St. Clair’s multi-million dollar painting gets stolen from Carringer’s on Lydia’s watch, and now she’s turning around and asking him for a job? But St. Clair is smooth, as usual. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he says, moving out of her reach. “But I believe Grace has filled the last spot on my team of experts.”
Chelsea starts to roll her eyes but stops herself when she sees me looking. “I’m so happy for you!” she says instead, clearly lying out of her ass. “It’s just so hard to believe how far you’ve come so fast! It seems like only yesterday you were scrubbing floors.”
I gulp the last of my champagne. “That’s because you’ve never seen what hard work will get you.”
St. Clair stifles a laugh. “Shall we take a look at the other donations?” he says to me, holding out his arm. I take it.
“Let’s.”
“It was nice to see you, ladies,” he tosses back over his shoulder as we go.
We move off. A waiter passes with a tray of canapes and I remember that the last time I was at an event like this, it was me carrying the tray of appetizers, sweating over orders handed down to me by Lydia. Chelsea’s right, I’ve come a long way. I can’t keep the smile off my face.
“What’s so funny?” a male voice asks out of nowhere. We turn.
It’s Nick Lennox, the Interpol agent who was investigating the Carringer’s theft.
St .Clair extends a hand politely. “Lennox. I wouldn’t have expected to see you here. Nobody making off with any paintings, I hope.”
“Not yet, at least. But I’m keeping my eyes open.” Nick shakes his hand. He’s tall and broad-shouldered, and looks like he’d rather be in jeans than a tux. “Miss Bennett,” he nods to me. “I heard about your change in employment.”
“Thanks,” I say, even though I’m not sure it’s a compliment.
St. Clair nabs a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and hands it to Lennox. “Any leads in the search for my painting?” he asks. The thief made off with a priceless piece that St. Clair had just purchased at auction, but there hasn’t been any word yet about catching the thief.
“No leads just yet. Whoever he is, our man is thorough.” Lennox gives St. Clair a measured look. He’s probably hoping St. Clair won’t be angry or impatient they haven’t caught the perpetrator yet.
“Or woman,” I pipe up. They both turn, surprised. “We don’t know that it’s a man,” I shrug. “You said so yourself, there aren’t any leads.”
St. Clair chuckles. “She’s got you there.”
Lennox pauses. “No, this is a man. Someone with too much time on their hands, with an incredible ego, who’s used to getting his own way.”
“So he’s a pro,” St. Clair says. “That doesn’t bode well for me or my painting.”
“No,” Lennox says slowly. “It doesn’t bode well for you at all.”
There’s a weird tension in the air, and I wonder if the two of them have any history. Maybe Lennox isn’t too pleased about chasing down all these works of art for their rich owners. Either way, I don’t want to be stuck in the middle of something.
“If you’ll excuse me,” I say, “I’m going to head to the ladies’ room.”
I slip through the crowd and find the bathrooms. Of course, they’re brand new and full of polished marble. I’ve just entered a stall when a group of girls comes into the