The departure of Adrian allowed me to carry on the rest of the evening with my normal professional demeanor. Polite but firm; curious but not easily swayed; and charming but not involved. I took my job seriously, I was good at it, and I wasn’t about to let a confusing incident throw me for a loop.
I even managed to get Lucas Vale on the record, though he said nothing of particular interest. He just talked about how good it was to be supporting the community and how he hoped that the auction raised a record-setting amount of money, but he had no comment on the Morrils or on rumors of the Vales themselves. I wasn’t surprised, nor should I have been; in all my snooping around the family through the years, it was well known that Lucas was the most levelheaded of the bunch.
But for all of that, there was one overlooked fact that I hoped came to fruition at some point.
I wanted to see Sarah, my friend.
Not for interviews; I would never have wanted to interview her, and if I had to, I would have passed the job off to a different journalist. But for advice, for guidance on why there seemed to be something about the Vales that captivated people.
As I made my rounds through the gallery, it seemed a near impossibility that I would see her. I guess she’d gotten her wish to not be on full display, which made sense for making sure her artwork stood out, but still. Maybe I needed to see a friend more than I thought.
Finally, I spotted her near the back of the gallery, standing by a painting that appeared to capture the Grand Canyon at night. I would never pretend to instantly understand art the second I saw it, but knowing how much Cassius had been a part of her life recently—for good reason—a part of me wondered if it somehow represented the gap between what people thought the darkness of the Vales had and what it actually had.
“Delilah!” she shouted, waving to me.
I’d planned on going up to her and starting small, quiet talk, but she seemed in such a chipper mood that there was no chance of keeping our conversation quiet. It was fine; I’d already gotten all my interviews for the night done. What it was, however, was telling for how the two of us felt compared to each other.
“Hello, Sarah,” I said, embracing her, happy to have a touch that didn’t send me off in a tizzy. “Enjoying the show?”
It was a dumb question, but honestly, I wasn’t mad. I was just happy to be able to talk about something lacking in consequence and something lacking in heavy emotion.
“Yes,” she said, “although it seems you’re enjoying it even more.”
“Oh?” I said, keeping my professional demeanor up just a bit too much. I wasn’t quite as cheerful and vividly emotional as Sarah, but my job’s stoicism was also a mask for how I felt at times. My friends were very good at knowing the difference between genuine relaxation and forced.
“I saw you with Adrian,” she said. “Let’s just say I understand the feeling very well. What happened?”
“You understand it very well?” I said coyly.
“Delilah, he all but cornered me inAllureon one of its first nights. It might have actually been its first night. I know the feeling of facing off against a Vale. It’s intense, it’s exciting, and it’s…”
She looked around, as if hesitant to raise her voice too much.
“It’s exciting in a way that, well, you know.”
I snorted.
“Not going to happen,” I said. “Not a chance. You two had your history. The only history we have is his reading my stories and me knowing of his place in the Vegas hierarchy.”
“I will remind you that in some ways, our history was a hindrance,” Sarah said. “Remember, he hated my guts. I’m pretty sure we started the whole thing with him wanting to ruin me. Hell, we broke apart because of his fling with the Black Reapers. You two are practically at the final stage.”
This time, the hard exterior dropped in favor of a laugh. The final stage? Even if you allowed that there was electricity between us that was impossible to describe, that was a bit ridiculous of a claim.
“The point being,” Sarah said, “I know. I can relate. So you can tell me the truth.”
The laugh gradually faded into a knowing sigh.
“He’s a lot. More than I expected.”
I knew that response could take on many meanings. Sarah just folded her arms and raised an eyebrow. It was a technique I had taught her—when you wanted to get someone to talk and they weren’t, just stay silent. Most people couldn’t stand to be across from the other person and sit in complete silence.
“Alright,” I said before launching into a full recounting of everything, from the way he shook my hand to the way he put his hand on my shoulder. I admitted that his touch had an effect on me that others’ did not, though I tried to undersell it. “But just because I felt that way doesn’t mean I’m obligated to do anythingwith him, and I won’t. He’s a journalistic source, Sarah. A handsome one and a charming one, but I’ve been around those. I have to put my primal instincts aside, and I will.”
“You think he’s done anything so far?” Sarah said, almost seeming utterly bemused. “Just wait until he’s really trying. Right now he’s just testing the waters. Once he sees an opening?—”
“OK, enough, Sarah,” I said. “I came over to you to unwind a bit, not to be reminded that I’m swimming with the sharks. I get that the Vales want to own their narrative, want to control things, and want to break those who get in their way. I get that he takes himself as the King of Diamonds very seriously. But I amnothis date, and I would appreciate if you understood that.”
But even as I said that last bit, I felt an odd tinge of disappointment, almost like a part of my mind didn’t like hearing that. I didn’t think my face showed it, but just because Sarah wouldn’t get to see it didn’t mean it wasn’t as real as our conversation.
