Chapter 24
twenty-four
AMANTHA
Iarrived at work early, my anticipation too intense to dawdle.
Stirling’s soirée.
Planning such a prestigious event was a dream come true. Opening my calendar, I began to draft a loose timeline of tasks I would need to finish before Stirling’s debut at the end of July.
High heeled footsteps clacked down the hallway before Kate’s fresh face turned the corner. Today, she wore a lemon-yellow sleeveless bodysuit tucked into wide-legged, black trousers. Her sleek, cascading ponytail swung as she set down her designer handbag and plopped into her seat across from me.
“Are you so excited for everyone to hear about your promotion?” She waggled her perfectly groomed brows with a grin. “Oh wait, everyone already knows, don’t they?”
Chuckling, I swatted at her. “Will you shush? Kendra knows Blythe knows, who doesn’t know Val knows, who’s probably guessed you already know.”
“Oh, what a tangled web you weave.”
I laughed even as excitement vibrated up my spine. “I’ve dreamed of planning an event like this for as long as I can remember! And Blythe said she’d even consider my thoughts on the placement and flow of his sculptures in the exhibition.”
“Amantha.” Kate’s coal-dark eyes glittered with pride. “I’m so proud of you. I’ll help out in any way I can. I mean, you’re the boss.”
“If that's the case, go fetch me a latte, you peasant!” I did my best British accent, acting all the regal queen I wasn’t.
Kate stood and lowered into a ridiculous curtsy with her wide-legged, black trousers. “Yes, my liege.”
Ignoring my giggling attempt at an explanation, Kate theatrically marched out of the office.
Val rounded the corner with a bewildered expression, peering back down the hallway where he had obviously passed a marching Kate.
My heart tripped over itself at the sight of him in a charcoal suit and a burgundy silk tie. G.Q. was definitely missing a cover model. He stopped short at the sight of me already seated at my desk. Couldn’t blame him. I usually ranged from an on-the-dot to a five-minutes-late kind of gal.
Thanks to the vacant curation wing, I dared to waggle my fingers at him with a sly smile. My words died on my lips as Val abruptly turned away with a stone-faced expression, swept into his darkened office, and flipped on the lights. The thud of the closing door made me flinch.
Kendra or Blythe must be walking in behind him.
So I brushed off his cold response, knowing that concealing our relationship was par for the course. The tingling memory of Val’s words brushed against my ear.
“I care about you very much.”
I smiled at the glowing reminder as a deep breath of calm filled my lungs. Feeling like the luckiest girl in the world, I resumed my task.
Not even a minute later, my eyebrows fell.
Neither Kendra nor Blythe had turned the corner. No footsteps. No voices.
A knot formed in the pit of my stomach, the sensation making it difficult to focus. Sliding my phone out of my purse, I opened Val’s text conversation.
AMANTHA: Good morning, my incredible boyfriend. I can’t wait to see you today!
A slight twinge of panic now edged the knot in my abdomen. In addition to the text I’d sent yesterday, Val hadn’t responded this morning, either. I hadn’t given it a second thought until now.
My gut insisted something was off, though I continued to ignore it. For heaven’s sake, my ex-husband had led a double life for almost a year without my gut getting involved once.
But then again, the last time a man stopped texting me back, he was sleeping with his paralegal. My stomach twisted.
Through the glass panes of his office, Val appeared normal, wearing his usual “work scowl.” I typed a quick message, asking how his evening had gone with his family. I watched Val’s phone vibrate beside his keyboard, but he barely even glanced at it before returning to his computer.
Maybe his family got in a fight? Did Camilla not like me or something?
I hated how insecure I felt. Regaining my confidence after Ryan had been a long and arduous process.
One that was still ongoing. Setting my jaw, I tried to reaffirm myself.
Gone was the woman who sat paralyzed in her car, witnessing her husband and his mistress.
I now felt more like the person I was before Ryan than I could have ever hoped.
Far too old to be playing passive, childish games, I boldly sent another text.
AMANTHA: Are you okay? Are WE okay?
No response.
The knot tightened.
Icould have sliced the tension in the boardroom with a knife. The wooden table might as well have been an ocean with how distant he felt. Val stayed laser-focused on Blythe and Kendra as they informed the already-aware curation team about my promotion to lead Stirling’s account.
Kate’s genuine cheer tugged the corners of my lips, rendering a small smile. Forcing enthusiasm into my voice, I stood and thanked Blythe and Kendra for the opportunity. My smile slipped as I began to sit, noticing Val’s profile hadn’t shifted a millimeter.
I bit my lip, blinking furiously as we left the boardroom.
Sinking behind my computer, I struggled to keep my smarting tear ducts from spilling over.
Only two nights ago, Val had professed his feelings for me.
The soft blue glow from the TV still illuminated his shy smile in my mind. What could have changed since then?
Kendra’s black skirt and blazer materialized beside my desk, making me jump. I swept my face into a mask of indifference and said, “Good morning, Kendra. Can I help you?”
“Yes. I’d like to talk to you in my office. Privately.” She turned on her snappy heel and strode into her office.
I sighed and followed after her. At this rate, my acting skills would be ready for the big screen any day now.
We both sat down, and the museum director knit her fingers together on the desk. I waited for her to begin, anxiety now accompanying the worried knot in my stomach.
Her obsidian irises scrutinized mine, glimmering and unreadable, before she said, “I’m very pleased with your work lately, and I’m looking forward to seeing your plans for the opening soirée.” Kendra didn’t sound excited at all. If anything, a hint of suspicion laced her voice.
“Thank you.” My forced smile came easier now that Val wasn’t in sight. Kendra stood and took slow steps around her office, trailing her fingertips on the desk.
“I just wanted to ask if you found any”—her eyes scaled to mine again—“inspiration during the Felix Andreas gala?”
I felt the blood drain from my face. “Inspiration?” The innocent question slid from my lips, shockingly cool and collected.
“Yes. Inspiration. Anything come to light that evening? Anything memorable?”
It all garbled into a loose translation: I know about the forgery and need to make sure you don’t.
While I had assumed Kendra’s hands were dirty, the confirmation of my suspicion was almost frightening.
The woman in front of me was involved in criminal activity, for goodness sake. I decided it best to play dumb.
“The gala was inspirational. I think it was Blythe’s finishing touches that made it spectacular, like the chilled champagne glasses, for example. I’ll make it my muse for sure.”
After an agonizingly slow moment, Kendra nodded and said, “Good. Please let me know if I can assist you in any way.” Her glittering eyes followed me as I excused myself with a smile.
My wild thoughts picked up speed as I walked toward The Spiral. Cold sweat slicked my palms. Kendra, the museum director herself—the person responsible for the success of the museum—had stolen from it. Anger simmered amidst my panic.
I swung the employee door open to greet the skylight’s refracted light spotting the walls of The Spiral, though I barely noticed. Gripping the steel handrail, I forced oxygen into me.
Kendra knew. Of course she knew. Did she have the real painting, or had it disappeared into the black market by now? Had she worked alone, or did she have an accomplice?
I opened my phone to text Val, but through my panic, I had completely forgotten about the knot still lingering in my stomach. Gritting my teeth, I decided the dirt on Kendra took priority. It had to. We’d have plenty of time to talk later.
AMANTHA: Regardless of what’s going on with us, Kendra just implicated herself with the forged painting. Rick’s closet. NOW.
Thankfully, the closet door had been propped open, since my keycard only had clearance for the office wing.
As I waited for a reply, I slipped inside the closet.
The door sealed shut, darkness rising around my body.
I tapped the heel of my left foot in a rhythm of impatience.
Pressing an ear to the surface of the cool metal door, I listened for his footsteps.
My phone buzzed, the ghostly light of the screen illuminating my face.
VAL: I can’t do this anymore.
The knot exploded.
Each letter Val had strung together to make that sentence was unrecognizable. I reread the message through my blurring vision. My fingers quivered as I strung together foreign letters of my own.
AMANTHA: What does that mean, Val? The investigation? Or us?
An ellipsis appeared as the oxygen in the closet dissipated entirely.
VAL: Both.