Page 68 of The Devil Wears Orange
“Banning. I don’t expect you to remember me.”
“His Highness meets so many, it’s hard to remember them all,” I say, trying on an accent, and immediately regret that decision. I figure I’ll play it off as a mixture of my imaginary upbringing at various European boarding schools. “I do hope you’ll be more memorable this evening.”
Banning’s mouth drops open, and his eyebrows shoot upwards. In a peal of nervous laughter, he says, “Now that we’ve met again, you’ll remember me the next time.”
Rashid doesn’t comment, and I take my cue from him.Let him squirm.We stare at Banning with slight disdain to make him feel out of place in our presence. The awkward silence between us intensifies.
“Well,” Banning begins but doesn’t finish.
More silence fills the air.
“Well,” Banning tries again, “is there something at the auction that has caught your eye?”
“No,” says Rashid.
“Yes,” I say at the same time. “The Heart Diamond.”
Rashid wraps his arm around my waist, his fingers press in for a slight squeeze I know is for show. “Darling, you mustn’t tell everyone why we are here. Mr. Banning could give us some competition for that diamond.”
“And I’m afraid I will,” Banning says, laughing. “To keep my marriage a happy one, I must bid on the diamond.”
“Rashid?” I turn to him with mock concern on an entitled face. “You promised me I’d have it.”
“Good luck at the auction, Mr. Banning. Keep in mind, I’m used to getting what I want.” For the first time during this exchange, Rashid smiles at Banning.
“As am I,” Banning laughs out loud. “As am I.”
I abruptly guide Rashid away, leaving Banning laughing alone. From a few steps away, I turn in time to witness Banning rejoin his group, his body language animated, no doubt in the retelling of some fictional story about his dear friend, Prince Rashid. Without taking my eyes off him, I mumble, “Ass-kisser. How did you know he would take the bait?”
“Before you set any plan in motion, you must do your homework, study the person, know their likes, dislikes, understand what they desire most, whom they desire most. Eventually, you will uncover everything you need to manipulate them.”
The confident tone of his voice startles me. Is this what he did with me? Study me and manipulate me into this charade? He had promised my name would be cleared. He had pledged to Jack a much bigger coup of stolen works. The answer, I know, is absolutely he did.
“You’re a ruthless con artist, the quintessential bad boy,” I say and maintain a smile for the sake of those around us. “You’re a playboy,” I add in a joking tone though I’m serious.
Eyes fixedly on me, he leans in and says, “I may like to play, but I’m no boy.”
My face flushes, and I’m forced to turn aside to regain my composure. Luckily, an attendant appears to escort us to the front row, but Rashid presses a hand to my back and my body heat spikes. When we are seated, he leans close and quietly explains how the auction works. Only I’m not listening. Instead, I gulp in his cologne and lose myself in his eyes, his voice, his everything. It’s play-acting, I tell myself, part of the role as his love interest though I’d go all in to turn this into a bodice-ripping adventure.
Mr. and Mrs. Banning appear from the back of the aisle. She’s taller than her husband, perfectly tanned with breasts bursting to get out. I’ve seen her type in Beverly Hills and Palm Beach. He settles into the third row, but Mrs. Banning doesn’t follow, and she points a long fingernail to the front row, whispering to him in quick huffs.
“May I have the paddle back?” Rashid says.
I break my gaze from the Bannings and down to the paddle in my hand. “Can I hold it until The Heart Diamond is put on display? I feel powerful holding it.”
Before long, the audience settles, and the auction begins. The first item on the auction block is a pair of candlesticks that once belonged to a Duchess in Italy or England, or Russia. I’m not paying attention. My hand sweats, my grip tightens on thepaddle, my mind fills with worry that things will go astray. It sounded crazy when Rashid first explained the plan to Jack and me, and it doesn’t sound any saner even now that I find myself smack in the middle of it.
The auctioneer’s shouts of “$25,000... $30,000... $35,000...” reverberate in my mind. I pay him no heed until I hear–
“And now, ladies and gentlemen, The Heart Diamond. This flawless diamond is 6.07 carats. Not only are blue diamonds scarce, but this particular hue of the diamond is rarer. Found in South Africa in the 1920s, it was worn by Princess Grace of Monaco. The bidding will begin at $3.5 million and move in increments of $100,000.”
The lighting reflects off the diamond. The plan is for me to act asifI desire it, but I don’t have to pretend. My heart speeds up as I stare, transfixed by the stone’s dazzling perfection. Beside me, Rashid retrieves the paddle, and rubs against my arm as he lifts the paddle in direct competition with two other men. Banning isn’t in the competition. What has happened to dissuade him from bidding on the prized jewel? Agitated, I shift uncomfortably in my chair, disquieted at a plan doomed to failure.
One of the men drops out when the bid reaches $6.7 million. The other man offers $6.8. Rashid holds for a moment.
“Banning’s not interested. Was he teasing you earlier?” I whisper.
“Do I hear $6.9?” the auctioneer says and eyes Rashid directly. Calmly, he places his paddle across his lap to indicate that he’s out of the competition.
