“That’s because there’s nothing to discuss. Other than fielding some questions from other galleries looking for works, it’s been kind of slow. Besides, if there were something to talk about, it would have to wait until tomorrow. You have a meeting with Max penciled in on your calendar. Did you forget?”

“No. Gus will be here shortly.”

“Good.” Lisa grabbed her purse and moved to leave. “So, if there’s nothing else, I’ll see you when I see you. Okay?”

“Haven’t you forgotten something?”

Lisa scanned the room and then patted her coat pocket for her cell phone. “I don’t think so.”

“Your shoes, or is Jimmy taking growth hormones now?”

Lisa looked down at her Calvin Klein pointed-toe pumps and then stomped to the closet. She sailed the high heels into the abyss with a flick of each foot and slipped on a pair of flats. “Thanks,” she said, walking past. “See you later.”

“There’s something else you forgot.”

Lisa huffed out a breath. “What?”

“How to read my handwriting. You bid eleven thousand over what I wanted to spend on that Currin oil.”

“I had no problem reading what you wrote. I made a judgment call. It’s a fantastic piece, and we can still easily sell it and make a profit.”

“That’s not the point. I had a buyer, and I know what they can afford.”

“Since when do we cater to people on beer budgets with champagne tastes?” Lisa said, giving Bennett the once-over. “Oh, that’s right. I forgot. Some of us do.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Bennett said, squaring her shoulders. “What’s gotten into you?”

Lisa drew in a long breath. “Fine,” she said, taking a step in Bennett’s direction. “What’s gotten into me is that I come back from vacation to find out you’ve changed everyone’s schedule around so you can get a piece of mortal on the side. It was bad enough when she showed up at Rapture, a private, invitation-only show that had a guest list that we kept in the safe, for God’s sake, yet you let her in knowing nothing about her. And now she’s got you wrapped around her little finger so tightly, you’re jumping through hoops and rearranging your weekends for her.”

“You are way out of line,” Bennett growled.

“I don’t trust her.”

“You don’t even know her.”