“Thank you for the ride.”
He kills the engine and gets out. I fumble with my seatbelt and before I’ve even reached for my door, he’s opening it. I rotate to exit and my skirt hikes up my legs, the burn of his stare, hot. I glance up at him and find him staring down at me, something unreadable in his expression. He offers me his hand and it’s almost like a question. I’m not sure what that question is, but there is only one answer, this moment, this night. I check that my purse is at my hip and then steel myself for the impact of his touch, before sliding my palm against his palm, sucking in a breath with the charge of that connection.
He pulls me to my feet and close, his woodsy scent once again teasing my nostrils. For just a few beats, I’m on an invisible island with this man, one that floats in an ocean with the stars and moon shining down on us. “I do believe,” he says softly, his voice a low rasp I feel in every part of me, “that there’s a song in your story.”
“No,” I say. “I’m not that interesting.”
“I disagree.” He steps back and takes me with him before releasing me to shut the door. I move more fully onto the sidewalk and then he’s beside me, and we’re walking to my building. I pull out my key and unlock the door, flipping on the light before I turn to face him. “My apartment is above the store.”
He leans closer and presses one hand on the doorjamb above my head. “Aria means melody or song in Hebrew and Italian.”
He knows too much. He sees too much but there’s no running from what he already sees. “Yes,” I confirm. “Yes, it does.”
His gaze lowers to my lips and I swear he’s thinking of kissing me. I want him to kiss me like I have not wanted ever before, but then his gaze lifts to mine and he says, “Good night, Aria.”
He pushes off the wall and walks to his car. I’m stunned at his abrupt departure and I quickly turn and enter the store, shutting the door, locking up, and turning on the alarm. And then I just lean on the door and stare into the empty space. I don’t know what just happened, but I feel more alone than ever. And I didn’t even ask him if he knows Sofia.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The building creaks and hums with random noises that I suspect have always been present.
Ed is not happy about the wine, but I promise to find him a new treasure and quickly. I spend a good part of the night searching through my brother’s apartment and office for a clue to where he is now. Again. I’ve done this now three times. I finally decide to try to get into his cellphone account and just have the peace of mind that he’s using his phone. An hour later, I can’t figure out his password and I know I need to hire a private investigator to dig into this problem safely, but even that makes me nervous. And it’s going to cost money.
At nearly two AM, I force myself to lie down in bed and turn out the light, but the darkness and silence overwhelm me. I grab my phone and I can’t help myself. I dare to play one of Kace’s albums. I can’t get him off my mind, but there’s a good reason for that I tell myself. His music speaks to my past, to my heart, to my family. And the way he plays Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony is just beautiful.
I fade into the night, into the sound of his notes, and wake to my cellphone ringing. I jolt with the sound and roll to grab it from the nightstand to find Ed calling. I groan with my tired body and sit up, glancing at the six AM hour. “Morning, Ed.”
“Can you reach out to the buyer and offer them four hundred and twenty-five thousand?”
“I can certainly try, but from what I understand, this guy would have paid five hundred thousand just to win the auction last night. It’s not about money to him. It’s about the game and the power.”
“Try. You have a way about you, Aria. I know you can do this.”
“Don’t do that to me,” I chide. “Don’t build me up to let you down.”
“You can’t let me down. I believe in you, no matter what. But try. That’s all I ask.”
“I will.” We disconnect and I launch myself into action, which means me making coffee, and taking a long hot shower. Riptide is only open a few hours on Saturdays and thankfully I have Nancy, my part-timer who runs our shop during our open hours, coming in today.