he thinks a documentary is worth the drive from San Diego.”
“Maybe he likes architecture.” In truth, I don’t really care. I like Damien. I don’t like Jeremiah. And I don’t want to waste more thoughts on the man.
“Actually, you’re right. He’s on the board with Michael. I’d forgotten.” She waves the words away as if they’re just a bother. “But speaking of architecture, where is the man of the hour?”
“I haven’t seen him since just after the film ended.”
“Do you know him personally?”
“A bit,” I say. “You?”
“Only by reputation,” she says.
“What reputation?”
Evelyn’s smile borders on wicked. “Just that he has one. And speak of the devil.” She gestures to the far corner of the room where Jackson stands in the red light from the balcony. The light meshes with the gold and the blue, giving that part of the room an even more surreal quality.
Apropos, I think, considering the entire night seems rather surreal.
Evelyn hooks her arm through mine. “Come on, kiddo. Let’s go land you an architect.”
He’s alone when we start out, holding a highball glass and sipping leisurely as he looks around the room, as if taking stock of an empire. He looks in my direction, then stands a bit straighter. For a moment, I think that he has seen me.
But it’s not me that he’s seen.
He holds his hand out, gesturing for someone to come closer, and as I watch, a redhead glides up to him, her hair crackling like fire in the golden light. He kisses her lightly on the cheek, and I am overcome with two equally powerful urges. The first, to run away. The second, to slap the look of unabashed delight right off her face.
“Do you know who that is?” I tug Evelyn to a stop beside me.
“Not a clue, which means she’s probably not in the business. Or if she is, she’s fresh off the turnip truck.”
“We should wait,” I say.
“We should go,” she counters. “You want the man to talk to you about business, don’t you?”
I nod.
“And you told me he’s already turned down your request for a meeting?”
I nod again.
“Then take a tip from Auntie Evelyn and talk to him while someone’s with him. He’ll either have to say yes, or risk looking like an asshole in front of his lovely young friend.”
Considering she has a point, we continue on, only to stop again when their discussion shifts from casual to contentious.
“The one corollary to my rule?” Evelyn says as we pause several yards away. “Don’t walk into a minefield.”
To be honest, I’m curious enough to do just that. I want to know who this woman is, why he kissed her, and what they are now arguing about. I’m imagining a lovers’ quarrel, and the thought is not a happy one. Not because I’m concerned about the quarrel, but about the lover.
I’m distracted from my thoughts by Wyatt’s approach. “Now there’s a great picture,” he says, lifting his camera. “Smile, ladies.”
Evelyn hooks an arm around my shoulder and we both smile for the camera.
“Want to make the rounds with me?” he asks. “You can take a few shots, I can give you a few tips.”
The offer is tempting, but I regretfully shake my head. “Mission not yet accomplished,” I say, hooking my thumb to indicate Jackson.
His mouth quirks up. “I knew you weren’t just looking to party with me when you asked for those extra tickets.”
“Funny.”
He chuckles. “I’ll wish you luck, then.” He turns to Evelyn. “How about you? Want some company?”
“With you? Always. Especially if you’ll get a shot of me with that woman.” She points to a trim blonde flirting with the bartender. “That young lady is on the rise, and she’s represented by Jake Osprey, a rat bastard of a competitor. He’ll blow a gasket if he sees me in the trades with his nubile young client.”
“You have a devious streak,” I say.
“It’s why I’m so damn good at what I do. Now go,” she says, pointing to where Jackson was standing
“Maybe he likes architecture.” In truth, I don’t really care. I like Damien. I don’t like Jeremiah. And I don’t want to waste more thoughts on the man.
“Actually, you’re right. He’s on the board with Michael. I’d forgotten.” She waves the words away as if they’re just a bother. “But speaking of architecture, where is the man of the hour?”
“I haven’t seen him since just after the film ended.”
“Do you know him personally?”
“A bit,” I say. “You?”
“Only by reputation,” she says.
“What reputation?”
Evelyn’s smile borders on wicked. “Just that he has one. And speak of the devil.” She gestures to the far corner of the room where Jackson stands in the red light from the balcony. The light meshes with the gold and the blue, giving that part of the room an even more surreal quality.
Apropos, I think, considering the entire night seems rather surreal.
Evelyn hooks her arm through mine. “Come on, kiddo. Let’s go land you an architect.”
He’s alone when we start out, holding a highball glass and sipping leisurely as he looks around the room, as if taking stock of an empire. He looks in my direction, then stands a bit straighter. For a moment, I think that he has seen me.
But it’s not me that he’s seen.
He holds his hand out, gesturing for someone to come closer, and as I watch, a redhead glides up to him, her hair crackling like fire in the golden light. He kisses her lightly on the cheek, and I am overcome with two equally powerful urges. The first, to run away. The second, to slap the look of unabashed delight right off her face.
“Do you know who that is?” I tug Evelyn to a stop beside me.
“Not a clue, which means she’s probably not in the business. Or if she is, she’s fresh off the turnip truck.”
“We should wait,” I say.
“We should go,” she counters. “You want the man to talk to you about business, don’t you?”
I nod.
“And you told me he’s already turned down your request for a meeting?”
I nod again.
“Then take a tip from Auntie Evelyn and talk to him while someone’s with him. He’ll either have to say yes, or risk looking like an asshole in front of his lovely young friend.”
Considering she has a point, we continue on, only to stop again when their discussion shifts from casual to contentious.
“The one corollary to my rule?” Evelyn says as we pause several yards away. “Don’t walk into a minefield.”
To be honest, I’m curious enough to do just that. I want to know who this woman is, why he kissed her, and what they are now arguing about. I’m imagining a lovers’ quarrel, and the thought is not a happy one. Not because I’m concerned about the quarrel, but about the lover.
I’m distracted from my thoughts by Wyatt’s approach. “Now there’s a great picture,” he says, lifting his camera. “Smile, ladies.”
Evelyn hooks an arm around my shoulder and we both smile for the camera.
“Want to make the rounds with me?” he asks. “You can take a few shots, I can give you a few tips.”
The offer is tempting, but I regretfully shake my head. “Mission not yet accomplished,” I say, hooking my thumb to indicate Jackson.
His mouth quirks up. “I knew you weren’t just looking to party with me when you asked for those extra tickets.”
“Funny.”
He chuckles. “I’ll wish you luck, then.” He turns to Evelyn. “How about you? Want some company?”
“With you? Always. Especially if you’ll get a shot of me with that woman.” She points to a trim blonde flirting with the bartender. “That young lady is on the rise, and she’s represented by Jake Osprey, a rat bastard of a competitor. He’ll blow a gasket if he sees me in the trades with his nubile young client.”
“You have a devious streak,” I say.
“It’s why I’m so damn good at what I do. Now go,” she says, pointing to where Jackson was standing
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