Can I confess something? Be aware, this confession does not fall into the realm of cooling things down.
Penelope stared at the text, once again torn between what she wanted and what she knew was smart. The additional problem? How to resist learning a confession from the person who… Someone she wanted to know inside and out?
Yes.
She closed her eyes, kept them closed when her phone vibrated a moment later. Penelope took a deep breath, only for all air to leave her body when she read Lucia’s reply.
I dreamed about you, and in my dream, we kissed at my studio, and when we went into the bedroom, it wasn’t to talk.
Penelope read the message again. Her mind offered no rational defense, only heat.
Damn it. Just…damn it.
The room felt ten degrees hotter, the afternoon sun now cutting harsh slants across the hardwood floor.
She resisted the urge to fling open the fridge and bury her face inside.
Instead, she got up, refilled her mug, and took a measured sip. If she didn’t do something useful soon, she’d combust.
Chapter 19
Impulses
Lucia raced up the stairs to Francesca’s home, ringing the doorbell while catching her breath. She’d overslept after inspiration had her holed up in her art studio through the night, the smell of oil and turpentine still faintly clinging to her. Sleep had been impossible with Penelope looping in her head.
“About time,” Francesca drawled in lieu of a greeting and ushered Lucia inside.
“Sorry. Things got away from me.” She followed Francesca into her office where Jules and Skye were already working.
“Look who the cat dragged in!” Skye said.
Lucia ignored her and fell into her chair.
“And I’m the cat in this equation, Skylar?”
Skye straightened. “No. Of course not. It’s just a saying.”
“You could be a cat,” Lucia said.
Francesca raised her eyebrows. “Oh?”
“Yeah. You’re aloof, independent, and you’ll slice and dice someone for doing you wrong.”
Francesca appeared to suppress a smile as she settled in her chair. “All right. Let’s hear where things stand.”
“I ran a short live test, barely a minute. Facilities called it a glitch, but Conservation still logged it, which is what we want,” Jules said. “The second spike won’t look random, it’ll look like escalation. That makes it less likely Montgomery will ignore Blackwell’s suggestion to move theMadonnaout of caution.”
“Excellent work,” Francesca said.
“I also looked further into the Meridian’s schedule, and Wednesday before the ball looks like the best day for Skye tobring in Lucia’sMadonna. There’s a lot going on that day, so one more delivery girl won’t stand out,” Jules said.
“Good. Now, about the supply closet.” Francesca’s tone sharpened. “It’s close to the Conservation Lab. That means every technician walking past is a risk. Jules, check their staff logs—who’s assigned to that wing on Wednesday. If traffic is heavy, we’ll need a second window.” She turned to Skye. “And you, no improvising. You drop it, you walk out. No heroics.”
“Of course. I don’t want to get in trouble. Not everyone has a walking key card wrapped around their finger.”
“None of that,” Francesca said before Lucia could open her mouth. “On the note of Penelope, though, any updates? Any news on Varnelli and her attempts to change the loan terms?”
“Not really. Everything seems to go like it always does during the prep. Though Montgomery is making a big deal about the importance of impressing donors. So, having to take theMadonnadown will sting a lot, but Jules’s live run there will undoubtedly help,” Lucia said. “As for the loan, Penelope said that Montgomery isn’t budging.”
