Page 176 of Pervade London
“You have a fear of water?”
“What?”
“You don’t like boats?” He laughed. “It’s not taking off, Emily. The yacht will stay in the Thames.”
I pulled my eyes away from the sauce stain on his tie. “It won’t take place at the Russian Embassy?”
“The location was moved. The event’s being hosted by Renaldo Zane on behalf of the embassy. He’s arranged a lavish party on his yacht.”
Zane.That name made my flesh tingle.
“What kind of people will be there?”Russians?
“There will be lots of guests. Americans. Members of the British government. Patrick Woo.”
“Patrick Woo?” I said wistfully.
The music director of the London Symphony Orchestra, the man who’d already seen me audition. The elite conductor could open the door to my professional future.
“You see how important it is for you to be there.”
Still, James had told me this couldn’t happen. Even if the location seemed safer.
“I’m sorry.” I stepped over to the office door.
“Emily, I’m so surprised by your decision.”
Clutching the knob, I inhaled a deep breath. “I’m sorry to let you down.”
“I just assumed you’d be thrilled to see her again.”
I looked back at him. “Who?”
“Diana Zane.” He slid his glasses back on and stared at me. “I thought you were a fan.”
“She’ll be there?”
“Of course. She’s Renaldo Zane’s wife.” He paused, then said, “If you go, she’ll hear you play, Emily. Wasn’t that your dream?”
Xavier left the kitchen and came over to give me a hug. “I’ll see you out.”
We strolled through the front door toward the SUV idling on the curb.
I wished I could think about anything other than the events of the next few hours. Only yesterday, Penn-Rhodes had informed me who would be attending the event tonight. Diana Zane would be there, my childhood hero, for goodness sake. And Patrick Woo, the man who held the keys to the kingdom.
My heart was breaking…the decision far from made.
“I’m glad you came around.” Xavier opened the rear passenger door of the SUV. “Kitty really likes you.”
“Talking it over helps.”
“You eat and come home, okay?”
“Right.”
He leaned in and called to the driver. “Chez Antoinette in Covent Garden, please. No detours. And Gary, don’t take your eyes off them.”
He gave an informal salute off his chauffer cap. “Got it, sir.”
