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million dollars, tripling what was projected? You say thank you, and you sign on the dotted line,
which is what I did, with an appropriate flourish. I couldn’t wait to tell Matilda about the windfall.
I handed the auctioneer the papers.
Dante, or whoever he was, came over to the table and completed the transfer with his own
undecipherable signature. Then he met my still-confused gaze.
“Nice to formally meet you, Miss Mason. I can assure you that Ms. Mendoza’s painting will be
going to a very good home. I am a big fan of all her endeavors. So you can imagine how sad I was to
be left off the list of bidders, and how grateful I am that you did not hold that against me.”
“Who are you?” I asked, cautiously weaving my hand through the crook of an arm he offered. “And
what was all that limo subterfuge? The not speaking English? Showing up unregistered? Was that
really necessary? Surely you could have—”
“Dauphine, my dear, I will explain everything in good time. But we must leave now, before
curiosity overtakes the room, swallowing us both. People will begin to ask questions. About me,
about you and about the … group you represent.”
“What do you know about that?”
“I know enough to ask you … if you’ll accept the Step.”
Of course! So he is one of them. He’s one of us!
As a crowd gathered to photograph Red Rage before it was packed and shipped, he ushered me up
the steps to the theater’s exit. Now it was all making sense, though my heart continued pounding.
The foyer was empty, save for a half-dozen bored drivers checking their watches. Dante pulled me
sharply in the opposite direction, through high glass doors covered in lace curtains. Suddenly, we
were alone in a beautiful narrow hall painted ivory, lined with columns and wainscoting in the same
golden hue as my bracelet. He let go of my arm, his whole body now facing me.
“So?”
“So …” I said, inching backwards until I collapsed onto an overstuffed settee beneath a bust of
some famous composer. “Did you really just spend fifteen million dollars on a painting?”
“I did.”
“Why?”
“To impress you. Did it work?”
I shifted over so he could sit beside me.
“Possibly.”
Clearly, this was a man for whom everything came easy. But I wasn’t quite sure I wanted to be one
of those things. He leaned in, his face inches from mine. His nostrils flared like an animal’s picking
up the scent of fear … and liking it.
“I’ll ask you once again: do you accept the Step?”
He lifted my hand and was about to examine my bracelet when I snatched my wrist from him,
hiding it behind my back. He was sexy, and he knew about S.E.C.R.E.T., but there was a dark air
about him that kept tripping me up.
“What’s your real name?” I asked. “And how come you didn’t know where the auction was if your
banker was here, the blond one?”
“She was following us, having not received an invitation either. Now, I’ll be happy to answer the
rest of your questions, Dauphine. But there’s really only one that matters. Do you accept the Step?”
His mouth now at my ear, he gathered a lobe between his lips, gently sucking it. A current flowed
through me, my body turning to lava. Everywhere he touched me, the skin beneath melted. He was
moving fast, so fast I’d soon be unable to stop him, even if I wanted to.