I keep worrying that this story is out of character for Dylan. I
would love to have her punch Kate in the face and from the reviews I
know you would too but right now she has a lot of self-doubt. I dont
want to get out of character though. Make sense? So here is Ch12
there are a lot of ways I could have taken this and did. I must have
3-4 copies on my hard drive but this is the one i decided on. (Oh and
none of them have her punching Kate :) )
*-*-*-*-*
Kate and Anthony strolled in to the museum arm in arm. She beamed and greeted colleagues and patrons as she went. Anthony just wanted to find a nice corner to stand in and let her soak up the lime light. "Mr. Hartman," she cried as she led Anthony over to a short bald man with thick glasses.
"Ekaterina," said the man taking both of her hands in his own. They gave each other air-kisses on each cheek. "My dear I am so glad that you accepted the position here at LAMA. This will be the best exhibition we have ever had. It's a pity that the Russians wouldn't loan us the entire collection."
"It is wonderful isn't it? I too wish that they would have given us the rest of the eggs but maybe they can be persuaded if this goes well," said Kate smiling from ear to ear. Sensing Anthony's growing impatience she said "Let me introduce you to a good friend of mine. This is Anton. Anton this is Mr. Hartman, the curator of the LAMA." Mr. Hartman extended his hand to Anthony. Anthony didn't shake the man's hand but gave him a polite nod. Kate blushed and stammered, "I'm sorry he is from Romania," in embarrassment then led him away. As they walked towards the buffet table she hissed at him "At least you could have shaken his hand. He doesn't have cooties you know." A waiter came by with a sliver tray of champagne flutes. Kate took two off, one for herself and one for Anthony, and took a sip.
Mr. Hartman stepped up to a microphone and clanked a spoon against the side of the glass he was holding. The low white noise rumble of the on-going conversations came to a halt and the head curator cleared his throat. "Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to welcome you to the Treasures of the Czars' Grand opening Exhibition Gala." The room filled with a thunderous applause. "Although there are many wonders here this evening I would like to focus your attention on the spectacular Faberge Eggs that are behind me," he said stepping aside and waving his arm to show four pedestal cases covered in purple velvet . Nodding his head four young men came over and removed the cloth covers revealing the eggs underneath. The in take of breath from the crowd was audible. I know that you would all like to get back to the party so I would just briefly like to thank the museums new acquisitions manager, Ekaterina Dunayevskaya for enabling us to obtain such wonders. Kate, please come forward."
As Kate glided over to the side of the curator Anthony scanned the room for a sign of Dylan and found her standing near the door smiling and whispering something to Rutherford.
*-*-*-*-*
Dylan hated to admit it to herself but she was having fun with Neville Rutherford and actually enjoyed the ride to the museum. Of course it could have been the two glasses of Dom Perignon she downed after hearing about the possible relationship Anthony had with Vivian Woods and the one she was currently sipping as well. As the speech ended she looked around the room and spotted Alex with Jason over by a statue that looked more like nothing but an enormous block of unformed clay. "I think I'm going to say hi to my friend," she said.
"Dylan-love I'll come with you. Remember our deal about you not running off."
"And remember I asked you not to call me Dylan-love."
Rutherford laughed, "Right-o now on to your friend."
Anthony wished he could pry himself away from the Kate who rejoined him only to cling to his arm as though it was a life preserver. She and Natalie were discussing something about what the miniature crepes were filled with and Pete was correcting the bartender's cocktail mixing technique. Bored he watched Dylan and Rutherford, with narrowed eyes, stroll across the room to speak with Alex. He wished they would turn more towards him so he could see what they were saying. Kate went to gesture about something and in doing so let go of his arm so he could sneak away.
He wandered over close but not too close to where Dylan went. He could still smell the spicy trail of perfume she left behind, "Madness". He remembered its bitter flavor that clung to his lips when he kissed her neck and it made him miss her all the more. He stopped near the clay-lump statue. He could hear Dylan saying something about an assassin; he tried to move closer but was afraid that he would be given away. He could have easily walked up to her and just said "Hello" he didn't know where his sudden lack of courage came from. He felt like he was fourteen again.
The orchestra started playing "Isn't it Romantic". "Dylan would you care to dance?" he heard Rutherford ask his date.
"Sure why not," she said with a smile and he pulled her out on the floor. Anthony watched as they whirled around in time with the sweeping strains of the music. This was his chance. He started out onto the floor to cut in but just as he started to come close enough to get Rutherford's attention Kate stepped up next to him, "Care to dance?" she asked. How he would have loved to tell her no but despite his past he was still a gentleman.
As Anthony and Kate danced across the floor he watched over Kate's head Dylan laughing in Rutherford's arms. He closed his eyes as the wondered what she saw in the man. He knew Rutherford had a charming way with the ladies and had hoped Dylan immune but now it seemed otherwise. He frowned and Kate laid her head on his shoulder.
Rutherford had noticed the thin man watching them and had an idea as to what he wanted, and that was to cut in on his dance with Dylan. He was old but he wasn't that old and his eye sight and perceptions were as clear as ever. He had watched the protective way the assassin stood by the angel at his mansion. Never knowing Anthony to be protective of anyone except Anthony it had come as a surprise to him. At first he thought it was a one- way affection, after all he knew women found Anthony attractive but also a novelty that wore off quickly; generally after the first hair ripping experience. After talking to and watching Dylan he quickly surmised that there was more to them than that.
"Ruthless Rutherford indeed," he thought with a sigh. Somewhere along the line he had gotten soft, allowed himself to be endeared to both the silent assassin and the red-head that had charmed him from the moment he met her. He danced Dylan over near Anthony. When he was close he tapped Anthony on the shoulder startling the other couple and Dylan, "would you mind terribly if I cut in old chap?"
Dylan had been lost in the world of the songs lyrics: "Isn't it romantic/Music in the night, a dream that can be heard/Isn't it romantic? /Moving shadows write the oldest magic word./I hear the breezes playing in the trees above/ while all the world is saying you were meant for love./Isn't it romantic merely to be young on such a night as this?" She was suddenly awakened from her daydreams by Rutherford voice asking if he could cut in. When she raised her eyes they were stopped next to Anthony and Kate.
As Anthony looked at Rutherford and at Dylan he tried to ascertain if it was really what Dylan wanted, but as he was about to nod his approval and switch partners Kate interjected, "Perhaps later." That was too much for Dylan she pulled out of Neville's arms and walked off the dance floor. She went to the small terrace that the museum had opened for the smokers. "Well," said Kate to the two men, "I guess she didn't like the idea of trading partners either."
Rutherford excused himself and followed Dylan outside. She stood with her back to him looking at the cars pass down below. "Dylan-love?" he said softly as he heard her sniff. He felt bad. He hadn't meant to see her get hurt he wanted her to be happy. "I wanted her to be happy?" he thought silently. Then he said to himself under his breath, "I AM getting old and soft."
"Go away," said Dylan.
"It was all a misunderstanding I'm sure."
"Go away Neville," she said again. She hadn't used his name the entire evening so he took this as believing she was serious and needed time alone. As he headed back inside Anthony came towards the door. Rutherford stopped and grabbed him by the arm, "Make amends with her or I'll make you sorry. Do you understand that my silent friend? She is way too good for the likes of you.or me for that matter." Then he let the Thin Man go and headed towards the bar; he needed a drink.
Dylan stood there wondering when everything went wrong. Things had been going so well until Kate came. "No," she thought, "I can't take the easy way and blame everything thing on Kate. It would be easy but I won't." She reached into her beaded bag and removed a tissue and dabbed at her eyes. She heard footsteps come up behind her. The last thing she wanted was Neville Rutherford's company and the man obviously couldn't take a hint. "I thought I told you to go away, don't you ever listen, Rutherford?" she said turning and ending up face to face with Anthony. "W-what are you doing here? I'm sure Kate is looking for you."
"We need to talk," he said. He took another step to close the small gap between them but she backed up. He looked at her with sad eyes. "Dylan."
"What?" she asked harsher than she meant to.
"The note?"
"What note?" she asked puzzled.
Anthony studied her face and it was apparent she truly had no idea what he was talking about. He wouldn't ask Kate again it wouldn't do any good. He knew that Dylan had never received the piece of paper he poured his heart into. It was predictably Kate. Why he made the mistake of believing she had changed from the same spoiled seventeen year old girl he had first met was beyond him. "We need to talk," he said.
"I don't think this is a good time. I'm working."
He arched an eyebrow. Laughing and dancing with Neville Rutherford isn't want he called working. He knew how she worked; he thought angrily about how she had "worked" on the Knox case. He took out his pen and wrote, "Your place tomorrow at noon?" and handed her the note.
Dylan looked it over and she felt a tightening in her chest. Although the condo had been hers they had always referred to it as theirs. "Sure tomorrow is fine. I suppose you will want to get your things."
Anthony hadn't thought about that. Currently the only thing he wanted was Dylan but she seemed anxious to get rid of reminders of him in her life. "Why argue?" he thought silently and nodded.
"Good," said Dylan swallowing back tears, "I'll see you then." She pushed her way past him, stood up straight and went back into the exhibition room.
*-*-*-*-*
A short man dressed like a miniature Liberace entered the exhibition room from the main doorway. He looked around a moment paying attention to the eggs; circling each case and peering at them as though he was extremely interested. Then he reached into his cape and produced a small white envelope. He eyed the crowd and walked towards the pimple- faced young man who had been checking invitations.
"Give this to the curator will you," he told the young man in a soprano voice. The teen looked at the envelope then the strange man who despite his appearance exuded an air of authority. "Well what are you waiting for?" he asked. The young man darted across the room towards where Mr. Hartman was standing at the buffet table and handed the balding man the envelope.
The stranger watched as the young man handed the note to the curator. He watched as the curator opened the envelope, unfolded the slip of paper and read the message that had been written inside: "You might want to speak to your acquisitions manager and maybe call the police . The eggs are fakes." He watched as the color drained from the curators face and the boy point to him. Then he exited as quickly as he came, a glittering cape swinging behind him.
Hartman stared after him a moment and whispered in the pimple-faced teen boy's ear and watched as he took off to retrieve Kate.
*-*-*-*-*
As she left the terrace someone caught Dylan's eye. She blinked twice not believing her eyes. She ducked out of sight behind the clay-lump statue and watched the man circle the eggs. She wove in and out of the crowd trying to catch sight of him. "Damn where did he go?" she wondered as she scanned the room. "With the way he was dressed he shouldn't be that hard to find." She clicked on her molar mike with her tongue and said, "Did you guys see him?"
"See who?" asked Natalie into hers.
"A short man dressed in a white suit with a glittering cape." She said craning her neck in hopes of spotting him.
"Elvis?" asked Alex.
"Don't I wish," replied Dylan as she walked towards the buffet. "It was." suddenly out of the corner of her eye she saw a golden swish exiting the door. She took off running after him.
"Dylan who is it?" called Natalie.
"She headed out the door," called Alex running that way as well. Natalie upon hearing that passed her flute to Pete and was close on their heels.
Dylan stopped outside into the parking garage and looked around. She didn't see him. Suddenly a white stretch limo with long horns attached to the front roared past her. That was him and she knew it. She fumbled around in her bag and found a set of keys; the spares to Alex's car. Jumping in the speedy roadster she sped off into the night after the stranger.
would love to have her punch Kate in the face and from the reviews I
know you would too but right now she has a lot of self-doubt. I dont
want to get out of character though. Make sense? So here is Ch12
there are a lot of ways I could have taken this and did. I must have
3-4 copies on my hard drive but this is the one i decided on. (Oh and
none of them have her punching Kate :) )
*-*-*-*-*
Kate and Anthony strolled in to the museum arm in arm. She beamed and greeted colleagues and patrons as she went. Anthony just wanted to find a nice corner to stand in and let her soak up the lime light. "Mr. Hartman," she cried as she led Anthony over to a short bald man with thick glasses.
"Ekaterina," said the man taking both of her hands in his own. They gave each other air-kisses on each cheek. "My dear I am so glad that you accepted the position here at LAMA. This will be the best exhibition we have ever had. It's a pity that the Russians wouldn't loan us the entire collection."
"It is wonderful isn't it? I too wish that they would have given us the rest of the eggs but maybe they can be persuaded if this goes well," said Kate smiling from ear to ear. Sensing Anthony's growing impatience she said "Let me introduce you to a good friend of mine. This is Anton. Anton this is Mr. Hartman, the curator of the LAMA." Mr. Hartman extended his hand to Anthony. Anthony didn't shake the man's hand but gave him a polite nod. Kate blushed and stammered, "I'm sorry he is from Romania," in embarrassment then led him away. As they walked towards the buffet table she hissed at him "At least you could have shaken his hand. He doesn't have cooties you know." A waiter came by with a sliver tray of champagne flutes. Kate took two off, one for herself and one for Anthony, and took a sip.
Mr. Hartman stepped up to a microphone and clanked a spoon against the side of the glass he was holding. The low white noise rumble of the on-going conversations came to a halt and the head curator cleared his throat. "Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to welcome you to the Treasures of the Czars' Grand opening Exhibition Gala." The room filled with a thunderous applause. "Although there are many wonders here this evening I would like to focus your attention on the spectacular Faberge Eggs that are behind me," he said stepping aside and waving his arm to show four pedestal cases covered in purple velvet . Nodding his head four young men came over and removed the cloth covers revealing the eggs underneath. The in take of breath from the crowd was audible. I know that you would all like to get back to the party so I would just briefly like to thank the museums new acquisitions manager, Ekaterina Dunayevskaya for enabling us to obtain such wonders. Kate, please come forward."
As Kate glided over to the side of the curator Anthony scanned the room for a sign of Dylan and found her standing near the door smiling and whispering something to Rutherford.
*-*-*-*-*
Dylan hated to admit it to herself but she was having fun with Neville Rutherford and actually enjoyed the ride to the museum. Of course it could have been the two glasses of Dom Perignon she downed after hearing about the possible relationship Anthony had with Vivian Woods and the one she was currently sipping as well. As the speech ended she looked around the room and spotted Alex with Jason over by a statue that looked more like nothing but an enormous block of unformed clay. "I think I'm going to say hi to my friend," she said.
"Dylan-love I'll come with you. Remember our deal about you not running off."
"And remember I asked you not to call me Dylan-love."
Rutherford laughed, "Right-o now on to your friend."
Anthony wished he could pry himself away from the Kate who rejoined him only to cling to his arm as though it was a life preserver. She and Natalie were discussing something about what the miniature crepes were filled with and Pete was correcting the bartender's cocktail mixing technique. Bored he watched Dylan and Rutherford, with narrowed eyes, stroll across the room to speak with Alex. He wished they would turn more towards him so he could see what they were saying. Kate went to gesture about something and in doing so let go of his arm so he could sneak away.
He wandered over close but not too close to where Dylan went. He could still smell the spicy trail of perfume she left behind, "Madness". He remembered its bitter flavor that clung to his lips when he kissed her neck and it made him miss her all the more. He stopped near the clay-lump statue. He could hear Dylan saying something about an assassin; he tried to move closer but was afraid that he would be given away. He could have easily walked up to her and just said "Hello" he didn't know where his sudden lack of courage came from. He felt like he was fourteen again.
The orchestra started playing "Isn't it Romantic". "Dylan would you care to dance?" he heard Rutherford ask his date.
"Sure why not," she said with a smile and he pulled her out on the floor. Anthony watched as they whirled around in time with the sweeping strains of the music. This was his chance. He started out onto the floor to cut in but just as he started to come close enough to get Rutherford's attention Kate stepped up next to him, "Care to dance?" she asked. How he would have loved to tell her no but despite his past he was still a gentleman.
As Anthony and Kate danced across the floor he watched over Kate's head Dylan laughing in Rutherford's arms. He closed his eyes as the wondered what she saw in the man. He knew Rutherford had a charming way with the ladies and had hoped Dylan immune but now it seemed otherwise. He frowned and Kate laid her head on his shoulder.
Rutherford had noticed the thin man watching them and had an idea as to what he wanted, and that was to cut in on his dance with Dylan. He was old but he wasn't that old and his eye sight and perceptions were as clear as ever. He had watched the protective way the assassin stood by the angel at his mansion. Never knowing Anthony to be protective of anyone except Anthony it had come as a surprise to him. At first he thought it was a one- way affection, after all he knew women found Anthony attractive but also a novelty that wore off quickly; generally after the first hair ripping experience. After talking to and watching Dylan he quickly surmised that there was more to them than that.
"Ruthless Rutherford indeed," he thought with a sigh. Somewhere along the line he had gotten soft, allowed himself to be endeared to both the silent assassin and the red-head that had charmed him from the moment he met her. He danced Dylan over near Anthony. When he was close he tapped Anthony on the shoulder startling the other couple and Dylan, "would you mind terribly if I cut in old chap?"
Dylan had been lost in the world of the songs lyrics: "Isn't it romantic/Music in the night, a dream that can be heard/Isn't it romantic? /Moving shadows write the oldest magic word./I hear the breezes playing in the trees above/ while all the world is saying you were meant for love./Isn't it romantic merely to be young on such a night as this?" She was suddenly awakened from her daydreams by Rutherford voice asking if he could cut in. When she raised her eyes they were stopped next to Anthony and Kate.
As Anthony looked at Rutherford and at Dylan he tried to ascertain if it was really what Dylan wanted, but as he was about to nod his approval and switch partners Kate interjected, "Perhaps later." That was too much for Dylan she pulled out of Neville's arms and walked off the dance floor. She went to the small terrace that the museum had opened for the smokers. "Well," said Kate to the two men, "I guess she didn't like the idea of trading partners either."
Rutherford excused himself and followed Dylan outside. She stood with her back to him looking at the cars pass down below. "Dylan-love?" he said softly as he heard her sniff. He felt bad. He hadn't meant to see her get hurt he wanted her to be happy. "I wanted her to be happy?" he thought silently. Then he said to himself under his breath, "I AM getting old and soft."
"Go away," said Dylan.
"It was all a misunderstanding I'm sure."
"Go away Neville," she said again. She hadn't used his name the entire evening so he took this as believing she was serious and needed time alone. As he headed back inside Anthony came towards the door. Rutherford stopped and grabbed him by the arm, "Make amends with her or I'll make you sorry. Do you understand that my silent friend? She is way too good for the likes of you.or me for that matter." Then he let the Thin Man go and headed towards the bar; he needed a drink.
Dylan stood there wondering when everything went wrong. Things had been going so well until Kate came. "No," she thought, "I can't take the easy way and blame everything thing on Kate. It would be easy but I won't." She reached into her beaded bag and removed a tissue and dabbed at her eyes. She heard footsteps come up behind her. The last thing she wanted was Neville Rutherford's company and the man obviously couldn't take a hint. "I thought I told you to go away, don't you ever listen, Rutherford?" she said turning and ending up face to face with Anthony. "W-what are you doing here? I'm sure Kate is looking for you."
"We need to talk," he said. He took another step to close the small gap between them but she backed up. He looked at her with sad eyes. "Dylan."
"What?" she asked harsher than she meant to.
"The note?"
"What note?" she asked puzzled.
Anthony studied her face and it was apparent she truly had no idea what he was talking about. He wouldn't ask Kate again it wouldn't do any good. He knew that Dylan had never received the piece of paper he poured his heart into. It was predictably Kate. Why he made the mistake of believing she had changed from the same spoiled seventeen year old girl he had first met was beyond him. "We need to talk," he said.
"I don't think this is a good time. I'm working."
He arched an eyebrow. Laughing and dancing with Neville Rutherford isn't want he called working. He knew how she worked; he thought angrily about how she had "worked" on the Knox case. He took out his pen and wrote, "Your place tomorrow at noon?" and handed her the note.
Dylan looked it over and she felt a tightening in her chest. Although the condo had been hers they had always referred to it as theirs. "Sure tomorrow is fine. I suppose you will want to get your things."
Anthony hadn't thought about that. Currently the only thing he wanted was Dylan but she seemed anxious to get rid of reminders of him in her life. "Why argue?" he thought silently and nodded.
"Good," said Dylan swallowing back tears, "I'll see you then." She pushed her way past him, stood up straight and went back into the exhibition room.
*-*-*-*-*
A short man dressed like a miniature Liberace entered the exhibition room from the main doorway. He looked around a moment paying attention to the eggs; circling each case and peering at them as though he was extremely interested. Then he reached into his cape and produced a small white envelope. He eyed the crowd and walked towards the pimple- faced young man who had been checking invitations.
"Give this to the curator will you," he told the young man in a soprano voice. The teen looked at the envelope then the strange man who despite his appearance exuded an air of authority. "Well what are you waiting for?" he asked. The young man darted across the room towards where Mr. Hartman was standing at the buffet table and handed the balding man the envelope.
The stranger watched as the young man handed the note to the curator. He watched as the curator opened the envelope, unfolded the slip of paper and read the message that had been written inside: "You might want to speak to your acquisitions manager and maybe call the police . The eggs are fakes." He watched as the color drained from the curators face and the boy point to him. Then he exited as quickly as he came, a glittering cape swinging behind him.
Hartman stared after him a moment and whispered in the pimple-faced teen boy's ear and watched as he took off to retrieve Kate.
*-*-*-*-*
As she left the terrace someone caught Dylan's eye. She blinked twice not believing her eyes. She ducked out of sight behind the clay-lump statue and watched the man circle the eggs. She wove in and out of the crowd trying to catch sight of him. "Damn where did he go?" she wondered as she scanned the room. "With the way he was dressed he shouldn't be that hard to find." She clicked on her molar mike with her tongue and said, "Did you guys see him?"
"See who?" asked Natalie into hers.
"A short man dressed in a white suit with a glittering cape." She said craning her neck in hopes of spotting him.
"Elvis?" asked Alex.
"Don't I wish," replied Dylan as she walked towards the buffet. "It was." suddenly out of the corner of her eye she saw a golden swish exiting the door. She took off running after him.
"Dylan who is it?" called Natalie.
"She headed out the door," called Alex running that way as well. Natalie upon hearing that passed her flute to Pete and was close on their heels.
Dylan stopped outside into the parking garage and looked around. She didn't see him. Suddenly a white stretch limo with long horns attached to the front roared past her. That was him and she knew it. She fumbled around in her bag and found a set of keys; the spares to Alex's car. Jumping in the speedy roadster she sped off into the night after the stranger.