Page 3 of The Scarab's Game
“No,” said Scarlett. “We go with tonight’s Plan C. Observe and forgo the initial meeting. You make an approach tomorrow instead. Don’t let her see you.”
I placed my chips in front of the cashier, who began counting out my money. “I can’t approach as Reginald Stone.” That was my standard alias for sensitive inquiries.
“And you can’t use Emmett Reynolds,” said Scarlett, “if they know the company name. This isn’t a wise plan.”
“Hear me out.” I accepted my winnings and slid everything into my long wallet. “How about a compromise?”
“I’m listening.”
I weaved my way around tables to take up residence by the bar opposite the Rose Salon. From there, I had a clear view of the restaurant. We had fifteen minutes left until our reservation. If Jenn wasn’t inside by then, I’d wait, and we’d re-evaluate. “Emmett Stone. My business cards only have Stone Antiquities written on them, so that covers the De Rosas. And if Jenn balks, I’ll wink at her.”
“Wink at her?” Drew may have been a talented recovery agent who understood my hints, but he didn’t completely understandmeyet. “What is she? Twelve?”
Scarlett made a noise of assent. “That should work—she knows I’ve checked into hotels as Ms. Stone for privacy in thepast. As long as she remembers that, you’re good. Either way, I’ll be on comms with you, so if things go off the rails, I can call her. Innocently ask about her trip. It’ll be enough to distract her, and if you need more time, I’ll pull her entirely out of the conversation.”
“Exactly.” I caught the bartender’s eye and gestured to a bottle of scotch behind him. “It’ll kick-start the relationship with De Rosa.”
“All right. You’re a go,” said Scarlett.
I was the lead on this job. I didn’t need her authorization, but it settled the queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. The one reminding me I was going to use Scarlett’s best friend as a source.
Chapter 2
Jenn
The Monte Carlo Casinowas one of the most beautiful buildings I’d ever seen. The people milling outside taking photos of the cars screamed tourist trap—although arriving in one of those vehicles, cameras flashingatme, was surreal—but the inside made my artist’s soul cry.
“Don’t fall over,” Dante chuckled. His voice was deep, thick with an Italian accent.
I shook my head at myself. Yes, I was busy staring at the huge paintings and the gilded ceilings, which must have been forty or fifty feet high. But what else was I supposed to do? Play it cool and miss everything? “It’s breathtaking.”
“Designed by the architect of the Paris Opéra.”
“I love that building. One of my favorites in Paris.” If only I had time to stop there before I flew home.
He guided me toward a dark-wood doorway at the side of the first gambling room. Royal blue walls covered in twelve-foot-tall paintings flanked it, with a decorative wood and glasswork topper. “How long has it been since you visited?”
“Five years, I think?” On an unfortunate holiday with an even more unfortunate ex of mine. “I’d originally planned on Florencebeing my next European trip, but Nice came up at the perfect time.”
He spoke with the maître d’, who ushered us inside the restaurant. “Many would disagree, but I recommend Naples over Florence.”
“Is that where you’re from?”
“It’s where I was born, but we live where the business needs us.” He shrugged one shoulder. “Today, it’s Monaco. My father’s returning home soon while I’ll deal with our interests in Paris.”
The restaurant was as grand as the rest of the Casino but somehow felt more intimate. I studied the female figures decorating the ceiling, floating on clouds, draped in flowing dark fabrics.
“It was designed as a smoking room.” Dante slowed and craned his head heavenward to match mine. “They painted the ceiling in browns to hide the smoke.”
Despite the sprawling size, the room reminded me of a Parisian boudoir—warm and cozy. “I appreciate the tour.”
Dante stopped and pulled out my chair. “Care to sit, or would you rather see the view from the balcony?”
I dropped my gaze to the room—to the table where Massimo De Rosa and his distracted assistant sat. “I’m good here. Although I might have to come back during the daytime.”
“I suspect your days will be long.” Massimo leaned back in his chair. “There’s quite a lot to complete before the auction.”
“I’ll have some time after I finish.” I’d already canceled my flight home and hadn’t rebooked yet, so I had some flexibility. Maybe Icouldswing a trip to Paris?