Skullduggery {sapphic thriller}

CHAPTER TWO

Rafael shot a glance towards Landon who was already trying to navigate through the obstacle course of adoring patrons that separated us. "Do you think he knows who you are?"

"His late-wife's model-turned-art thief, lesbian lover? Oh, I'm sure I was the topic of many dinner conversations."

"Artie wasn't exactly discreet with her affairs."

But he didn't need to remind me. "Do I look okay?"

The worry that wrinkled his forehead dissipated as he looked me over. "You look great, Kirby. After seven years, I was expecting to pick up a rugged prison daddy at the airport, but you walked through the gate like you were returning from a European holiday." Grabbing my shoulders, he spun me around to tuck the price tag back beneath my dress. "Did they seriously let you tan while you were locked up?"

"One of the benefits of the French prison system."

A total lie.

"Speaking of vacation, your parents are still outta town, right?" I asked to pivot the subject.

"They're staying at the villa in Taormina for the next month, yes," his voice lowered. "You know Artie took care of your debt."

"Oh, I'm aware."

Marrying Landon had fulfilled that debt. All $1.7 million of it. But that didn't mean Pino Cassini would be pleased to know I was home.

Glancing towards Landon, I caught his eye again as he tried to inch away from the older woman talking to him. "You'd think after losing his beloved muse, he'd be too heartbroken to be acting this eager," I whispered over my shoulder, but Rafael's thumbs were busy tapping the screen of his phone. "Artie's barely been in the ground for six months."

Behind me, he sucked at his teeth. "She's not exactly in the ground, Kirby."

His words caught me off guard as I slowly turned towards him. "What the hell does that even—" Linking his arm with mine, Rafael spun me back around as Landon approached us. With a sweeping grin, the handsome young art director ran a hand through his perfectly styled pompadour, pushing his blonde hair back and off to the side.

"Hey man, how are you?" Rafael greeted him. His body stiffened as he extended his hand. "It's been a minute."

"Better than I thought I'd be tonight." Shaking his hand, Landon clapped his shoulder and turned to me. "Now, who's this guest you just had to get on the VIP list at the last minute?"

"Landon, this is my dear friend, Kirby McKinley. She's been abroad, following Artie from a distance for years now, but could probably paint her blindfolded with how well she knows her form..."

Subtle, Raf.

"She's ready to start her collection and is interested in the earlier, figurative pieces. Like what you had printed on the banners outside—"

"He's exaggerating about the blindfold, but the rest is true," I laughed softly, nudging Rafael as I held my hand out to Landon. With a tight grip, he rubbed his thumb over my fingers as I tried to pull back. "It's nice to meet you, Landon, though I wish it were under better circumstances."

"After these last couple months, I've come to accept that things happen for a reason." His brows knitted with silent lament, shielding his eyes in their shadows. "I'm sure you'd rather be meeting Artemisia tonight, but if you know where to look, you still can. She's here and alive through her paintings. I hope that doesn't make me sound crazy."

"That's not crazy at all," I replied, actually agreeing with him. As I glanced over at Rafael, he forced a smile, but I knew he felt his sister's presence here as well, though it wasn't necessarily a good feeling. "Isn't that what most art is? No matter whether the creative is dead or alive, their work is just a haunting reminder of the person we knew—or thought we knew. A memento mori in itself."