“Move to the main room?” Graeme suggested.
“Definitely,” Nick said as he came to his feet.
When they entered the main room, Graeme immediately saw Max Barrett, Fielding Grey, and the newest Solomon’s member, Justin Salinger, seated at a table. He and Nick made their way over. Nick turned his chair around to straddle it.
Graeme watched his friend. “It’s a compulsion with you to be different.”
Nick cursed Graeme in response, then gave him a toothy grin.
“Children,” Max said with feigned annoyance.
It was much quieter in the main room, despite the number of people. Once Rigby realized the larger crowd was in this room, he’d move in here. If they wanted to have a conversation, they’d have to do it fast.
“How goes the Atlantis search?” Graeme asked Max.
Max shrugged. “New research of late, but I’m not certain it will lead to anything.”
“He got shot,” Justin added from behind his hand.
“Not the first time,” Fielding said.
Max laughed. “I forgot I told you that story.”
“It was a woman that shot him,” Justin said with a smirk.
Max had a way of getting himself into trouble. The fact that it had been with a woman didn’t surprise Graeme in the least.
“Who was it this time?” Fielding asked.
“What the devil, Salinger, if you tell all my bloody secrets, I’ll tell yours,” Max said.
“Hello, darling,” Esme Grey said as she swooped down to kiss Fielding’s cheek.
Graeme had been of assistance to both of them when they’d gotten into some trouble with Pandora’s box, not to mention a well-known criminal who happened to be Fielding’s uncle. There were those who didn’t believe either one of the Greys should have been granted admittance into the club, but Graeme hadn’t been one of them. Fielding had almost single-handedly saved the crown, and though Esme was the only female member of Solomon’s, she was smart and as much an authority on their subject as he was on his.
Nick swiped a chair for her from an adjoining table.
“Thank you,” she said as she sat next to her husband.
“Did you spend all of our money?” Fielding asked.
“Perhaps,” she said sweetly. Then she began poking through her shopping bag. “I know you will all be delighted to know I have purchased a new pair of gloves,” she placed them on the table, “a new hat,”—again, it went onto the table—“and some fancy face crème.” She set the jar down as well.
“I knew if we allowed a woman in our midst, she’d start bringing in fancy-smelling whatnots,” Nick said dramatically.
“I’ll have you know that none of this is for here. This is all for me,” Esme said emphatically.
Max grabbed the jar of facial crème.
“See there, you’ve already ruined Lindberg,” Nick said.
Max shook his head. “Did you buy this at the little shop in Piccadilly Square?”
“Yes,” she said with a slight frown. “A friend suggested it, said it’s all the rage right now. It’s supposed to remove unwanted lines from one’s face.” She smiled. “Perhaps we’ll use some on you right here.” She rubbed the skin between Fielding’s brows.
He swatted at her hand. “Those lines make me look distinguished. Otherwise, I’d be just as pretty as Nick here.”
“Why do you ask?” Esme turned to Max.
