Page 78 of Code Name: Michelangelo

I tried not to let him see how relieved I was that we could spend New Year’s Eve together.

“I hate having to leave you at all.”

I snuggled back into him. “I know.”

“At least you’ll be safe. I couldn’t, in good conscience, allow you to go where I’m headed. It’s far more dangerous than I originally thought.”

“Again, if you’d rather not go tonight, I’ll understand.”

“Actually, I’m looking forward to a change of pace, even if just for dinner. As one would expect, the people working for the coalition are among the best agents in the world, which means they’re quite intense. Truth be told, like the first time I visited London on my own, I feel quite out of my element.”

“If they didn’t think you were cut out for this assignment, they wouldn’t let you do it, Brand.”

“I suppose you’re right.” He chuckled. “I’m not the cocky kid who believed he was invincible anymore.”

I understood. I’d changed too. Thinking back on running the gallery, it felt like I’d been pretending more than truly possessing any knowledge in the business of art. I accepted the forgeries had duped some of the best collectors in the world, but I still felt like I was out of my element, as Brand had said. Based on how I felt now, I wasn’t sure I wanted to continue in my role at the Catarina Benedetto Gallery, and until Brand left, I wouldn’t make any decisions.

We made arrangements to meet Eliza at a pub close to where we’d have dinner, given Brand and I would not be admitted without her escort. When we walked in and I waved at her, I heard Brand groan.

“What’s wrong?” I asked before taking another step.

“The man she’s with is an advisor to the coalition. His name is Typhon.”

I understood why. He was well over six feet tall. Maybe even seven feet and had dark wavy hair that was loose and cascaded past his shoulders. When he looked our way, he smiled, but a second before, his expression was best described as angry. When we stepped closer, I could see his stormy dark eyes were flecked with green, blue, and gold.

“Penelope!” exclaimed Eliza, and we embraced. “Is it ever good to see you.”

I pulled back after we cheek-kissed. “Likewise, and wow, you look amazing.” The teenaged version of her’d been pretty, but as an adult, she was beautiful. Gone were her braces, replaced by a wide, bright smile. Her blonde hair was sandy, like Brand’s. In fact, the two could be siblings—the possibility jarred me when I really thought about it. However, if Eliza were one of Richard Emsworth’s offsprings, surely, he would’ve claimed her by now.

Eliza was taller than me by several inches, but she was still dwarfed by Typhon in the same way Brand and I were.

“Let me introduce you,” she said, leading me over to where Typhon and Brand stood chatting.

“Leviticus Marras, meet Penelope Ramsey.” His big hand engulfed mine.

“I’m Brando Ripa,” he said, reaching over to shake Eliza’s hand.

“Typhon said you two know each other,” Eliza said, looking between them.

“That’s right,” Typhon responded, glancing at the other people standing within hearing distance.

“We’ve just arrived also, so rather than order anything here, let’s head over to Five Hertford.” Eliza leaned into me. “You’re in for quite a treat.”

I would’ve walked past the unmarked maroon door bearing a stark number five, but Brand appeared to know the place.

Rather than open the door, Eliza pressed a button, seconds after which a doorman appeared and welcomed us inside.

“Oh my gosh,” I said under my breath as he led us beyond the foyer.

Brand squeezed my hand, winked, and smiled, watching me take it all in.

The boho-chic interior was quintessentially English, with clashing patterns and prints on the carpets and walls reminiscent of what I’d expect in an eccentric, upper-class, English country home.

Eclectic art lined the walls of the various living and sitting rooms the doorman led us past, which were lit by cabaret-style table lamps and warm fires.

“We’ll have a drink in LouLou’s first,” Eliza said, motioning for us to follow her down a set of stairs and into a room that looked more bohemian-Parisian than English, including a life-size head and neck of a taxidermied giraffe.

“Have a seat,” said Brand, pointing to a zebra-print bar stool.

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