HE GAVE HIS MISTRESS MY PADDLE. HE FORGOT THE AUCTION HOUSE BELONGED TO ME

because you believed in me first.

Now he touched my elbow as if directing an employee.

“Don’t react,” he murmured.

“To what?”

“The seating was changed.”

“By whom?”

His gaze flicked toward Sloane.

“Does it matter?”

“No,” I said. “Not anymore.”

He searched my face.

I gave him nothing.

Across the room, Naomi stood beside Gabriel Hale, chief executive of Bellweather continue reading …