My coffee steams in a cup next to me, while the soft leather of my favorite brown chair in the store hugs me. A book sits in my lap, guiding me through the ins and outs of the most expensive comic books in the world, for a client meeting. A client I’m trying to win and to do so, I need to impress them with my knowledge and convince him that I’m the one to help him complete his massive comic collection. That means understanding a value which can be quite pricy. A Superman “Action Comics” #1 sold for three-point-two million dollars. I’ve decided I like Superman much more than Batman, and not because of the three-point-two million dollars. Batman’s bad attitude and disappearing act remind me of my brother. He’s been gone for three days. He’s not taking my calls and while sure he’s played the Invisible Man a few times in the past, he’s never cut off communication in the process. I can’t help but worry but then, it’s probably a new woman. There’s always a new woman. Or maybe there are several or a mix of old and new. A player’s gonna play and all that stuff.
I sip my coffee and part of me thinks he’s smarter than me. He avoids commitment by the necessity of our family name, but at least he does so in a way that doesn’t leave him alone and cold in bed. I, on the other hand, am always alone and cold, no matter the heat of summer. In fact, I think I should buy a new mattress. It’s my only companion. It should be a top-notch one. I glance at my watch, almost eleven. I was up at five AM to prepare for a breakfast meeting and that cold, lonely bed is calling me. I’ve just set my cup back down when the locks on the security system buzz. I straighten, certain this is Gio finally coming home. Either that or I’m about to be robbed by someone who knows the security code. I set the book down and the door opens, but no one enters.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I hear Gio demand, his tone low, and gruff. This isn’t a moment of jest at all. The door shuts again with him on the other side. I stand up waiting for it to open, not sure who he could possibly be talking to. A client? Someone he outbid on a collectible? A friend that isn’t such a good friend that I don’t know? Seconds tick into minutes, and I begin to worry, which morphs into pacing. I’m just about to head for the door and go outside to check on him when Gio walks in, his dark hair windblown, cheeks pinched with the mix of August heat and I suspect anger. He’s in black jeans and a black jacket, neither of which I recognize.
“Who was that?” I ask.
“Who was what?” he counters, playing dumb, and I don’t miss the thick shadow on his jaw that tells me he hasn’t shaved since he left.
I fold my arms in front of me. “I heard you snap at someone.”
“Someone who is no one you want to know,” he says, immediately changing the subject. “Why are hovering in the lobby at this time of night?”
“Why are you incapable of answering your phone or text messages?”
“I lost my phone. I ordered a new one that should be in here in the morning.”
“You didn’t think about finding a way to contact me?” I challenge. “I was worried.”
“I wanted to surprise you.” He closes the space between me and him, halting in front of me, the sticky-sweet scent of perfume clinging to him and the air around him.
“You smell like you dropped your phone in someone’s bedroom.”
His lips quirk. “You would do well to do the same. It might make you relax at least marginally.” He reaches in his pocket, to produce an envelope he hands me. I glance down to gape at a wad of cash and then back up at him. “What is this?”
“I wasn’t just off fucking around. I made a large sale for the business. And on that note, I’m going to bed.” He leans down and kisses my temple. “Night, sis.” He steps around me and I thumb through the cash.
Rotating I call out, “What did you sell? There’s at least fifty thousand in cash here.”
He pauses at the railing and turns to look at me. “Seventy-five. It was a high-priced piece of art. The client wanted the deal off the books.”
“Was the art stolen?”
“What the fuck, Aria? You know me. Do you think I’d steal something?”
“I know you wouldn’t steal, but did someone else?”
“I didn’t ask why the client wanted to deal in cash, but we’re depositing the money and claiming it on our store ledgers. I’ll log the deal on the books in the morning.”