He chuckled, always serving as a buffer between us, stepping in when things got too hot. “You’re both spitfires, honey. You learned it from her.”
I closed my eyes, refusing to think I’d learned anything from her other than how not to parent. “Am I okay to wear a cocktail dress? I’m not buying a gown.” Not only could I not afford it - I didn’t want to.
“You’re fine with that. The Lorelei isn’t as stuffy as you’d think.”
“Mom always talked them up to be the Illuminati of Boston’s social scene,” I laughed, reaching out to smooth the rumpled comforter beneath me.
“Probably because they’re the cool kids in town that wouldn’t let us at their table,” he sighed with a smile in his voice. “But don’t worry yourself over that or your mother. Go there and have a great time.”
I felt the tension run out of my body, all the answers I ever needed delivered in the deep voice that always made things right. “Dad?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“I love you.” I could never say it enough, my father’s support meaning more to me than anything.
“I love you too, Kee.”
Ethan
Bright lights beamed overhead while camera bulbs flashed, the park packed with hordes of celebrities, socialites, and paparazzi. The city’s finest were flanked by bodyguards, an ocean of eye candy on the arms of crusty, old men.
I was among them, though I was hardly crusty, inching towards old, and my arm was hopelessly empty because for the first time ever, Kira let me down.
More specifically, she ditched me.
I clutched my champagne flute as I scanned the crowd, wishing it was something stronger than the fizzy disappointment. A bottle of it likely cost more than a year of Ivy League tuition and proved to be an utter waste of grapes and time. I’d take a shot of cheap cinnamon whisky over it any day.
A string quartet played in the distance, a calming backdrop before the storm. All hell was about to unfold, the civility deteriorating into madness. Nothing compared to a big money art auction where millions would fly without care. Paintings would soon sell for obscene amounts, ones that could change the lives of thousands, only to hang forgotten in some fuckwit’s parlor.
It would be criminal not to take advantage of them.
I was tempted to call Kira, but I’d stand out more if I did, and I couldn’t afford to. I needed to blend in. Especially now that fuckers were sniffing around again, every release inspiring wannabe detectives to crawl out of the woodwork. One slip-up would be the death of the life I’d built, and I’d die before I let it happen.
“Sorry, I’m late!”
I flicked my head toward the rasp I assumed to be Kira, only to see Kee loping over in stilettos with the grace of a Clydesdale, a one-shouldered bronze dress and chandelier earrings shimmering under the lights. The color brought out the golden undertones of her skin as she seemed to glow with each stride. Her curls were slicked into a low chignon, cat eye makeup framing her hazel eyes.
She was the last person on Earth I needed coming toward me like Godzilla in a dress. A beautiful Godzilla, of course, but destructive as all hell.
What the fuck?
“Kee, what are you doing?”
I made a point to ask if she’d had plans that evening, worrying she might be there with her parents. The Doyles weren’t nobodies in our town, and as an art curator, Sean wasn’t someone I wanted in my orbit. Of course, I found it all out after I was whacked over the head with the sledgehammer of inspiration that was their daughter one rainy night. The same girl I’d hired soon after to do bullshit blog writing for me to keep her close. I was in too deep to run once we became good friends.
She was out of breath by the time she reached me, cheeks flushed a gorgeous rouge as her chest heaved. “I’m so sorry I’m late! I came in at Beacon and had to sprint! I didn’t realize it was down this way!”
Oh fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. No wonder Kira hadn’t shown up.
“Kee…” I began, but she cut me off, doubling over with her hands resting on her bare knees.
“I’m sorry! I’m such an idiot!”
People were beginning to take note of the breathless beauty, so I grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her to the side, handing her my champagne as I did. “I’m not mad,” I murmured. “There seems to have been a miscom-”
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining us for the annual Lorelei Celebration of the Arts!” the voice boomed overhead, a speaker behind Kee making her squeal in surprise, which earned glares from those around us. I subtly flipped a few off, linking my arm in hers as I did.
I’d sort everything out later. It was showtime, and the stakes were too high to falter.
We made our way into the event space arm in arm, a series of tents connecting in one massive web. Thousands of lights twinkled all around, their glow softening as we approached the moat of hungry bidders clamoring for elbow room and good seats.
I grabbed a bidding paddle as we stepped in, Kee’s brow arching as I did. I shrugged it off, and she seemed to accept it, all smiles while I tried to keep my cool. She easily filled the role as the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, and I wasn’t sure if I was nauseous over the fact that she was on my arm or that one wrong step would lead to my undoing.
I could kiss her goodbye. My life goodbye. My family goodbye.
Not an option.
I couldn’t lose her. She was the one behind it all, the spark who’d created an inferno that engulfed the art world.
I had to withstand two hours, and I’d be golden. I could explain it all away later.
The Ever painting
