Chương 2
“You slapped me in front of fifty people.”
Victoria’s jaw tightened.
“I reacted to something I recognized.”
“You recognized my mother.”
“I recognized the necklace.”
Richard stared at her.
“You said her mother stole it.”
“I was angry.”
“You used the word mother.”
Victoria looked at him.
It was the first time her fear seemed stronger than her calculation.
“Richard.”
“What did you know?”
“Not here.”
“Then where?”
“Somewhere without phones in everyone’s hands.”
Adrian glanced toward the crowd.
“She’s right about that.”
Richard looked at him sharply.
“I didn’t say she was right about anything else,” Adrian said.
The security guard reached them at last.
He leaned toward the coordinator.
“Do you want me to remove anyone?”
“No,” Richard said.
Maya said, “Yes.”
Everyone turned to her.
She pointed at Victoria.
“Keep her away from me.”
Victoria stared at her.
Maya’s palm was shaking now. She closed it around the broken pendant before anyone could see.
The coordinator touched the guard’s arm.
“Mrs. Vale, please step back.”
For a second it looked as if Victoria might refuse.
Then she looked around the room.
That was when Maya understood something about her.
Victoria was not embarrassed by what she had done.
She was measuring the damage.
She stepped away.
Richard still held the photograph.
Maya extended her hand.
“That’s mine.”
His fingers closed reflexively around it.
Maya’s eyes lifted to his.
“Give it back.”
Richard hesitated.
Adrian looked at him.
“Dad.”
Richard placed the photograph in Maya’s palm.
She folded it once, carefully.
Her mother’s face vanished inside the crease.
“Who are you?” Maya asked.
Richard swallowed.
“My name is Richard Vale.”
“I know your name.”
He looked older than he had in the magazine photographs.
“That wasn’t what I meant.”
“Then answer the question I asked.”
Richard’s eyes moved to the pendant.
“I knew your mother.”
“How?”
Victoria said, “Richard, stop.”
He ignored her.
“Twenty-six years ago.”
Maya’s fingers tightened.
“Did she work for you?”
“No.”
“Did she work for your family?”
“No.”
“Were you friends?”
Richard looked toward the windows, though there was nothing beyond them except rain and broken reflections.
“No.”
Maya waited.
Adrian said quietly, “Dad.”
Richard brought his gaze back to her.
“We were together.”
A flush of heat moved through Maya’s body, followed by a coldness so sudden she almost lost her balance.
The coordinator noticed.
“Ms. Reyes, would you like to sit down?”
“No.”
The answer came too fast.
Maya steadied herself against the edge of the pedestal.
Inside the glass case was a small bronze sculpture estimated at nine hundred thousand dollars. Twenty minutes earlier she had been studying the restoration marks near its base and wondering whether the auction house had disclosed them properly.
That seemed to belong to someone else’s evening.
“My mother told me my father was dead.”
Richard flinched.
Victoria turned away.
Adrian noticed that too.
“When?” Richard asked.
“What?”
“When did she tell you that?”
Maya stared at him.
“I was twelve. I asked for a school project. She said he died before I was born.”
Richard rubbed his lower lip with his thumb.
It was an ordinary gesture.
That made his next words worse.
“I was told you died.”
Nobody spoke.
Maya frowned.
“What?”
“I was told the baby died.”
“What baby?”
Richard’s voice roughened.
“Elena’s.”
Maya’s stomach turned.
Richard seemed to understand how that sounded.
“I didn’t know whether you were a boy or a girl. She left Los Angeles before—before I could—”
“Before you could what?”
He had no answer.
Victoria did.
“Before he could decide what he was willing to destroy.”
Richard looked at her.
“Do not.”
“What?” Victoria asked. “Tell the version without polishing it?”
Adrian stared at his stepmother.
“What does that mean?”
Victoria closed her eyes briefly.
Maya said, “I’m leaving.”
Richard stepped toward her.
“Please.”
She lifted one hand.
He stopped.
“I came here to look at a painting for a client,” she said. “I don’t know you. I don’t know him. I definitely don’t know her. I am not doing whatever this is.”
“Maya—”
“No.”
She looked at the coordinator.
“My coat?”
“I’ll get it.”
The woman moved at once.
Maya could hear murmuring behind them now.
The room was waking back up.
A server crouched near the champagne table, gathering shards from a glass someone had knocked over. One guest was arguing softly with another about whether they should leave. The pianist hired for the reception had stopped playing sometime during the confrontation and sat with his hands folded uselessly in his lap.
Adrian took out his phone.
Richard turned on him.
“Not now.”
“I’m telling communications not to release anything.”
Victoria laughed under her breath.
Adrian looked at her.
“What?”
“You think communications can stop this?”
“I think our family should try going ten minutes without making it worse.”
“That would be new.”
Richard stared at her.
Victoria’s face changed again, but this time the fear remained.
The coordinator returned with Maya’s black coat.
Maya slid it on over her evening dress.
Her cheek hurt.
Her wrist hurt more.
There would be finger-shaped bruises by morning.
The coordinator lowered her voice.
“There’s a private exit through the service corridor.”
“Thank you.”
Maya turned.
Richard said, “Can I have your number?”
She looked over her shoulder.
“No.”
“At least let me give you mine.”
“No.”
“I need to speak to you.”
“Then you need something.”
His expression tightened.
“I need to understand what happened.”
Maya looked at the photograph in her hand.
“So do I.”
“That’s what I’m saying.”
“No. You’re saying you want access to me because you’re upset.”
Richard’s face went still.
Maya surprised herself with how calm she sounded.
“I’ve been upset for about four minutes. You’ll have to get in line.”
She followed the coordinator out.
The service hallway smelled faintly of coffee and wet wool.
Two catering employees stood beside a cart pretending to organize napkins.
Maya kept walking.
May you like
At the rear door the coordinator stopped.
“My name is Claire Morgan,” she said. “If you need a witness to what happened, I saw all of it.”
