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

of experimental pattern coins once owned by a railroad magnate.

Julian barely watched.

He checked his phone beneath the table.

Sloane whispered into his ear.

When Lot Twelve appeared on the screen, both of them became still.

The Mercer Sunrise rotated beneath a beam of white light.

Even after all those years, I recognized the fine mark above Liberty’s torch continue reading …