"Those dragons you painted ... Was one a cunning jewel thief and the other an FBI agent literally hot on his tail?" Sara asked.
"That's one interpretation," Neal said airily. But not the right one. "The Chinese associate dragons with good luck. Mine were ducking in and out of clouds. It was an elusive game of catch-me-if-you-can. The owner was in a hurry to complete the project. The grand opening was scheduled to take place a week later. I knew I'd have to work my butt off to get it done in time. Billy offered to let me stay in a guest room over the Emporium and I spent the next few days painting. I didn't have time to regret the Montreal job."
"I've never eaten at the Hunan Pavilion," she said. "We should go. It will be my treat. Is there any reason why you chose to sing about giraffes?"
He shrugged. "I like giraffes. Amy's big eyes reminded me of them. I'd seen the tigers on her pajamas and figured it would take a couple of verses before she'd come out."
Sara smiled. "I like giraffes too. That's something else we have in common. They were my sister's favorite animal. And the green tutu?"
He rolled his eyes at her. "I could hardly stick a giraffe in a pear tree."
"What was I thinking!"
"I asked Maggie to rewrap my wrist daily so the kids would have a fresh canvas. Amy always drew giraffes. Each time the tutu was a different color—red, blue, purple. She loved purple." Neal stopped and took a sip of wine to dissolve the lump that was forming. Purple was the last color she'd used. She went home the next day. "I tried not to think about the Bureau. I visited the hospital during lunch breaks. Evenings I ran in Riverside Park." He stopped for a moment as he thought back. "I used to pass a magnificent mansion made of white marble with a copper and green tile roof. I fantasized about what it would be like to live there. I never thought I would someday."
"June's place?"
He nodded. "That was before I knew who she was." He took a breath. "With each day that passed, working at the Bureau seemed more remote—a daydream just like that mansion." He winced ruefully. "You should know I also thought about potential heists. If it didn't work out with the Bureau, I'd continue on the same path I'd been on."
She didn't challenge him with other options, but simply asked, "Did you wish you'd gone on the job with Mozzie?"
He shook his head. "No. I eventually spoke with Henry but didn't go into the details of what had happened at the Bureau. Mainly I thought about what it would be like to work for Peter and if I'd misjudged him."
"We were both searching for someone to hitch our star to. I ignored Bryan's faults and refused to listen to the doubts that crept in even at the beginning. Your instincts about Peter were right."
He shrugged. "I wish I'd recognized that. I understood that if I bailed on him, I wouldn't get another chance, but my old life still called to me. Was a decidedly unknown future worth the sacrifice?"
"You were about to radically change your career path. Stepping back to reassess is a reasonable move," she said diplomatically. He was astonished she didn't seem bothered by how torn he was. He'd spent the past half hour describing what took place during the week before he reported for work at the FBI. He hadn't disclosed everything. Some secrets were not his to share. Billy and Jacques's former criminal lives were off the table.
"What convinced you to give the Bureau a chance?" she asked.
"Not a what but a who—Peter." Neal raised his hand to gesture to the waiter. "You'll need dessert for the details."
"You said Amy returned home that Friday," Sara said while the waiter placed the chocolate soufflés they'd ordered for dessert in front of them. "Did you ever see her again?"
YOU ARE READING
Harlequin's Shadow
AdventureThe day of reckoning has come for Vincent Adler as Neal and Peter embark upon an elaborate U-boat con to take down the crooked hedge fund manager. August - September 2005. Fluff: Speakeasy party, Labor Day. Travel: France, Germany, Hungary, Albania...