“I think we can both agree that we have far greater enemies than each other, no?” Sophie gave him a pleasant smile that was not a smile at all. “Now, shall we decide where it was that we met?”

Chapter ​13

Chapter
​13

Aurelia

London, England
6 July 2017

Lia considered her surroundings with interest.

In the time since Gabriel had amassed and secured the art from her grandmother’s apartment and accompanied it all back to his studio in London, she had been looking forward to seeing exactly where he would be working on it.

She had never been to an art appraisal office before and hadn’t been entirely sure what to expect, but whatever she had had fixed in her mind, this was not it. The front office of Gabriel Seymour’s place of business looked nothing like the kitschy, cluttered workshop she had vaguely envisioned. The space was located in a converted warehouse in Shoreditch, and the units were sleek and modern with a nod to the building origins—new glass and steel set against old brick and wood.

“You look troubled,” Gabriel said, glancing up from behind an antique ebony desk. He was sorting through a stack of papers, each with an eight-by-ten photo attached to the front, and comparing them to the laptop screen in front of him.

“Not troubled,” Lia told him, eyeing the room in which she stood. A long mahogany table from a century past sat off to the right of the desk, surrounded by eight silk-upholstered chairs. Two large screens were mounted to the wall above it, a wide easel set in between. A Persian rug in shades of grey covered the wooden floor, complementing the dove-grey walls. To the left of the desk, a collection of four small Impressionist paintings had been hung, each illuminated by a light mounted above. The entire effect was one of refined gentility, tempered by modern convenience.

“Just…surprised,” she finished awkwardly. “I didn’t know what your office or studio would look like.”

“You were expecting Geppetto’s workshop?” he asked with a smile.

“Maybe.” She smiled back.

He stood behind the desk. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“Never.”

“Did you get checked in all right?”

“Yes.” Not far from Gabriel’s studio, the little hotel where she was staying wouldn’t be winning any hospitality awards anytime soon but it was perfectly adequate for her needs.

“I’m glad you could come to London so quickly.” He shoved his dark hair away from his face. He was wearing faded jeans and a simple, long-sleeved black sweater and looked somehow professional and casual all at once. And effortlessly handsome.