Natalie breathed a sigh of relief, hoping her grandfather’s mind was coming back into focus. “Peach will meet us there. And you’re the one who’s being honored tonight, since you opted to restore it to the Tang family. Not everyone would have done that. You did a good thing.” She’d made sure Grandy understood the value of the piece he’d given away. He had assured her that he had no interest in profiting off someone else’s possessions.

She scooted into the back seat of the limo and patted his knee. “Here we go.”

Cleo and Bertie sat across from them. There was a tiny bar with a crystal decanter and matching glasses, a bucket of ice, and a selection of beverages. “Let’s have a toast,” said Cleo. “Sparkling water only, so if we spill, it won’t stain.” She poured and they clinked glasses.

“To Andrew and the magnificent vase,” Bertie said with exaggerated dramatic flair. “May its long, strange journey end well.”

Their arrival was heralded by white-gloved doormen at the grand entrance of the huge neo-Gothic mansion. A special attendant brought Grandy in his wheelchair up a side ramp. When they stepped into the main ballroom, Aisin Tang met them at the door. The president of the society was dazzling and distinguished, effusively thanking Andrew, then turning his refined charm on Natalie and the others. A couple of photographers moved in to take pictures.

“He’s fabulous,” Cleo whispered in her ear. “Check and see if he’s single.”

“Stop it,” Natalie hissed.

“I’ve heard he’s loaded, too,” Cleo went on. “He should give you a reward or a finder’s fee, right?”

“I brought that up with Grandy,” Natalie told her. “He’s not having it. He says it’s enough to restore the lost treasure to the family.”

“The loaded family.”

“Stop it,” she said again. “And just so you know, they aren’t loaded. I checked. Besides, I’m not here to—oh my gosh.” She spotted the governor, surrounded by a well-dressed cadre of admirers. She’d heard his daughter’s wedding had gone off without a hitch. Her days at Pinnacle seemed like another life, when a make-or-break business deal had meant so much to her.

Along with the politicians, there were Hollywood types and Silicon Valley millionaires—possibly billionaires, Cleo pointed out. All gorgeously coiffed and expensively dressed, chatting and mingling with familiar ease. More photographers trolled the room, discreetly capturing shots of people who seemed to be having a conspicuously good time. The tables were festooned with tasseled jewel-toned silks, gold-painted porcelain china, and crystal stemware.

“I am way out of my element,” Natalie said. “I feel like a total fraud, an interloper.”

“Bullshit,” Cleo said. “You have every right to be here.”