Chapter 20

NICOLETTE

The grandfather clock at the Golden Gate Restaurant rang 12:15. Mr. Andretti was fifteen minutes late.

Shirley Banks checked her phone. “My client will be here soon, Ms. Holland,” she said for the third time. She gave me an apologetic smile.

I bobbed my head as a sign of understanding and sipped my juice.

We had initially made small talk, but that hadn’t lasted long. The last ten minutes of silence had been long and awkward.

I patted my briefcase beside me that contained my Malta excavation report and the letter of acceptance from Costard University. Just in case.

“May I ask a few questions about Mr. Andretti?” I kept my tone upbeat so she wouldn’t think I wanted to talk about anything serious.

“Sure, go ahead.” She tugged her jacket down and straightened in her seat. “I’ll answer what I can.”

She was a petite woman with brown hair cut into a short bob, which made her look years younger than she was. Her fine lines and wrinkles didn’t help me guess her age, though.

“Why is your client interested in the mirror?” I asked, putting my glass down.

She waited a few seconds before answering. “He’s a collector.”

“Of mirrors?” ~Narcissistic personality, much? ~I thought. But I needed her to keep talking, so I kept my tone playful. “That’s one way to reflect on life.”

She politely chuckled at my awful pun, but it did make her relax in her seat. “Yeah, I guess it is. He’s had me purchase mirrors from all over the world. Any old one he can find.”

“That’s really interesting. How long have you worked for him?” I put my arms on the table and leaned forward.

“It’s been”—she looked up to the ceiling—“seven years.”

“Wow! That’s a long time. And a lot of mirrors, I bet.” I took another drink.

She nodded her head while she sipped. “So many mirrors. Big, small, fancy, ugly. He must have them all by now. But all old. And all expensive.”

She looked comfortable, so I hoped she’d keep answering as I dug deeper. “So, what’s the oldest one you’ve purchased for him?”

“Mm, a few years ago he bought one from the tenth century. Roman. I can’t be more specific than that, mind you. Confidentially and all. But that’s the oldest he’s bought through me.”

Damn. I shouldn’t have asked that question. Now she had confidentiality on her mind. But I had to keep going. “How did he find out about the Malta mirror?”

“I don’t know, actually.” She frowned slightly. “He just called me a few days ago, more excited than I’d heard him in a long time, and told me to get it. So I contacted your office.”

I was about to ask another question when her phone rang.

She picked up the phone and pressed it against her ear without leaving the table. “Mr. Andretti, sir.” She listened, then her brows arched high. “Oh, really? Where?”

She turned from right to left, craning her neck to look around, then gazed up at the second floor of the restaurant and nodded. “I see you now. We’ll be right there.”

She ended the call and shrugged. “He’s waiting for us in the VIP area upstairs.” She grabbed her bag.

“Oh, did we sit at the wrong table? I thought this was reserved for us.” I finished my drink and grabbed my briefcase.

We both stood up and she came close to me.

“Between you and me, he’s a bit eccentric,” she whispered. “He said this area was ‘too gloomy.’” She exaggerated an eye roll and smiled.

We headed up to the VIP area, a mezzanine that overlooked the main floor. It was certainly not gloomy up here. The floor-to-ceiling windows provided ample light and offered a stunning view of the Statue of Liberty.

There was no one here but us and the man sitting at the table in the middle of the space. He was reading a newspaper, flipping it nonchalantly like he wasn’t expecting company.

Shirley walked to his table but stopped a few feet away. “Mr. Andretti, sir.” She swept her hand sideways to me. “This is Ms. Nicolette Holland, owner of Holland Archaeology and Consultancy.”

“Mr. Andretti, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” I said to the newspaper still hiding his face.

He carefully folded it and placed it on the seat beside him. But he did it in slow motion. Or that was how it seemed to me.

The moment I caught sight of him, time stilled. He had wavy light-brown hair and full dark-pink lips, and he was luminous. Really, his skin sparkled in the sunlight.

His brown three-piece suit, or at least the top half of it, was exquisitely tailored to fit his wide torso and very broad shoulders. It screamed four figures.

Then he looked up at me, and I stilled. My breathing, my heart, my mind. His eyes had me entranced.

They were a shade of blue I’d never seen on a human before. And they changed in the light. His right eye, shaded from the light, resembled the ocean, and his left eye, in the sunlight, resembled those of a Siberian Husky.

His eyes raked up and down my body, and yet again, I felt naked. What was it with the men I’d met recently? They’d all looked at me like this.

His eyes sparkled, and the corners of his lips curled into a half smile, as if he were seeing something in me that he liked. My insides shivered.

“Remarkable.” His smoky voice penetrated my eardrums like a seductive melody. He stood, and his full height towered over me.

He approached me, eyes locked onto mine, and lifted a hand to my face. He brushed my hair behind my ear and then trailed his fingers to the tips, playing with the curls at the end.

I swallowed. It was the only movement I could make. I thought about the last time I’d been under this spell. With Darien.

Was this man from Lucien’s world?