Surely I've misinterpreted things.
She blinks rapidly, like she's pulling herself out of a daydream.
Colour rises in her cheeks and then she turns her head and the moment, which feels earth-shakingly momentous, because she has never ever looked remotely at me like that before, is lost.
It was so fleeting, I almost worry I imagined it. But...
I don't think I did.
Before I have time to dwell on what the significance of whatever just happened, a new, pervasive energy enters the space, matched by the overpowering aroma of expensive aftershave, which is so cloying, I can taste it.
Theodore Pinkerton has arrived.
His voice is the kind of deep rumble that can penetrate higher frequencies. It rushes through the hubbub, sweeping out the legs of any other conversation. "Where is she? La dame de l'heure?"
I move to head him off at the pass, knowing very well that Bess can handle him, but I can't help myself. I want her to enjoy this evening as much as she can. It might be the last genuinely good thing I can do for her if the house of cards comes tumbling down.
As Theodore's eyes land on her, I step in front of him, blocking his path.
Forcing a smile, I say, "Evening."
He looks at me quizzically, then his face clears in recognition. "Ah, Bess' buddy. Ted."
"Ed."
He holds out a hand for me to shake.
"I'm happy to talk to you, but I'm not shaking your hand."
His mouth quirks upwards in one corner in acknowledgement. "Okay, my brother. But know I'm not all bad guy."
"No, you're probably not. But when greed gets the better of you, it has a habit of pulling others down with you. You're not the only desperate person here, Theo. Though they are a hundred times more deserving than you."
He huffs out of laugh and looks down his nose at me? "Who says I'm desperate?"
"There can't be too many reasons why you changed your tune on a buyout and then insisted on an overinflated asking price."
The smile slips from his face.
"Let's just hope the evening goes to plan andA Lettered Mansells without any problems."
Theo's right eyelid twitches. "Why would there be any problems with the sale?"
I know I shouldn't say anything that even hints not all is as it appears, but fuck it. He deserves to sweat a bit. "Because you've backed people into a corner, Theo, and desperate people take drastic measures."
"What on earth does that mean?"
I look him in the eyes and will my own to remain sufficiently moistened to maintain a sufficiently knowing stare.
He glances over one shoulder and steps in close to me. "I need that money from Bess. There better not be anything that would prevent a sale, hombre."
"Yes, let's hope not. Every single artist here will be happy to see you scuttling off back to the land of the extremely privileged and taking your brand of plastic charity with you."
Stepping backwards, Theo looks me up and down. "Nice metaphor. You know, I respect your strut. You're a librarian, aren't you?"
I don't bother replying. I don't think I'll like what's about to come.
"Must be savage being surrounded by all those women. You'd be very popular."
