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display that Armande painting I love so
much. Perhaps this is the perfect chance.”
    St.
Clair’s
smile vanishes. Crawford smirks. “Yes,
now that I think about it, the Foundation would love an artwork of
that caliber for their exhibit. It would really raise the tone of the
whole proceeding. Natalie!”
he
barks, without looking.
    She
appears at his side, clipboard at the ready.
“Yes,
sir?”
    “Contact
my art team, tell them we’ll
be transporting the Armande to Paris.”
He
turns back to St. Clair with a smug grin. “Let’s
see how much they care about your Graziano with a real masterpiece on display.”
    St.
Clair manages to look downcast, and he keeps up the act all the way
into the dining room. We take a seat in the corner, and only then,
out of sight, does he let his smile of triumph show.
    “He
took the bait, hook line and sinker!”
He
raises his glass in a toast, and I clink it.
    “But
wait,” I
say, still not following. “How
is moving the painting to the gallery going to help us? They’ll
have plenty of security, too.”
    St.
Clair nods. “True.
But nothing compared to those vaults. I’ll
have access to the gallery because of my own donation, and it’ll
be far easier to find a weakness in their system.”
    I’m
impressed. “You’re
kinda good at this.”
    He
chuckles. “I
do my best.”
    “Seriously
though, how do you do that? Take charge, make things happen instead
of just waiting, or hoping, for something to work out?”
    “I’m
no good at waiting,”
he
shrugs. “I
want things to happen my way.”
    “I
wish I could be more like that, in charge of my own destiny, not
afraid to go after things I want.”
I
sigh and think about how my life might have been different, how it
could be different now if I wasn’t
so cautious.
    “You
are,” he
reassures me, reaching to take my hand. “You’re
here, making your own decisions right now. Don’t
sell yourself short, Grace. Besides, there will be no time for
feeling sorry for yourself once we’re
in Paris.”
    “Paris?!”
    His
eyes are dancing. “Well
that’s
where the painting will be,”
he
laughs. “How
do you feel about a little trip?”
    “I’m
going to Paris!”
I
nearly shout with glee. Paris! I can’t
believe it.
     
    Two
days later, I’m
all packed for the trip
– well,
almost. I still need a gorgeous ball gown for the big exhibition
event, so I recruit Paige to come shopping with me in Soho.
    “What
do you think of this one?”
I
ask Paige, holding up a stunning red silk gown that falls to the
floor in lush drapes and body hugging curves.
    Paige
whistles. “Gorgeous.
I wish I had a reason to get that dressed up.”
    “I
wish you could come to the opening.”
I
say. Paris still feels like a dream come true. The most romantic city
in the world, with the hottest guy I’ve
ever met—who
just happens to be in love with me. Is there a better fantasy?
    “Me
too,”
Paige
sighs. “And
I wish I had a handsome rich boyfriend to whisk me off for romantic
weekends abroad, too,”
she
winks. “I’m
guessing you decided that the good outweighs the bad then?”
    “What?”
I
pull my gaze away from the midnight blue dress I’ve
been dreamily eyeing.
    “Our
not-so-hypothetical conversation, about people having a dark side?”
she
reminds me. “It
looks like whatever you learned about St. Clair isn’t
a problem anymore.”
    I
feel guilty for hiding everything from her, but I know I can’t
tell her the truth. “I
don’t
think it is, no. But, I do have another hypothetical for you…”
    “Ask
away!”
she perks, holding up a black floor-length halter dress with tons of
sparkles along the bodice. “Too
Vegas?”
she
asks, swishing it back and forth. I flash a thumbs-down.
    “So
the question is…have
you ever done the wrong thing, but for the right reason?”
I
ask, trying to make it sound light, but really wanting to hear her
opinion.
    She
looks up from another gown she’s
eyeing and raises an eyebrow. “Deep
thoughts