A waiter cruised by, his gaze rolling over them briefly. Apparently they didn’t look like the champagne type because he didn’t bother to stop. Not that Ryan minded. He simply wanted to look around, and he was in no way referring to the art.
They needed to identify the offices, see if they could get in to sneak a peek of what was inside. Maybe find a clue. Anything that might lead them to the stolen painting now that they knew the original was off in some secret location. In all honesty, Ryan still strongly believed that Amahn had something to do with it. Which meant the gallery was a good place to start looking.
“I’m gonna head to the little boys’ room,” Z announced, a little louder than necessary.
Ryan glanced over, and when he met Z’s gaze, he realized the man had said the words at that unnecessary decibel for a reason.
Ryan nodded his understanding and then moved toward Jericho and Amahn, who were standing in a corner with an older woman. They were talking softly, the woman apparently interested in one of the pieces on the wall. Not wanting to interrupt but hoping to divert the pair if they ventured off, Ryan pretended to peruse the pictures on the wall.
“I hope you don’t mind me saying, but you don’t look like the artsy type.”
Ryan glanced over to see a pretty young woman stepping up to his side.
“Looks can be deceiving,” he told her politely.
“This one, it’s rather… I don’t know what the word is.”
“Confusing?” Ryan questioned, smiling. “The odd use of color draws the eye in different directions.”
The woman smiled up at him. “You’re right, looks can be deceiving.”
Ryan smiled back at her.
“Cassandra Chapman,” she said by way of greeting, holding her hand out to him.
“Very nice to meet you. You can call me RT.” He gave her hand a gentle shake. It was crucial that he kept a low profile, and since the Trexler name was well known in certain circles, Ryan felt using his initials was good enough. Just to be safe.
“God-given name?” she teased.
“What my friends and family call me,” he replied with a small smile.
Another waiter came by, this one actually stopping to see if he wanted something. In order to fit in, Ryan took a glass and pretended to sip. He shot a quick look across the room to find Jericho and Amahn still conversing with the older woman, so he turned back to the painting.
“And what are your thoughts on this one?” Cassandra asked, nodding at another painting.
“Not exactly my taste,” he said, referring to the blurry images painted on the canvas.
Ryan feared if he talked too much, he’d give away the fact that he hadn’t the slightest clue about art.
For the next half hour, he allowed Cassandra to lead him around the room while he kept an eye on Jericho, making sure the man stayed within sight. He was scanning the room when Z reappeared, a sigh of relief escaping him when he noticed the big man walking toward him.
Z’s eyebrows lifted when he approached, his eyes darting to Cassandra.
“Cassandra, I’d like you to meet Z, my—”
“Boyfriend,” Cassandra interrupted with a huge grin. “I should’ve known. As the saying goes, the good-looking ones are either married or gay.”
“Nice to meet you,” Z replied, taking her hand and gifting the woman with his signature grin.
She stared at them both for a moment, apparently contemplating her next question. Ryan was glad he hadn’t been taking a drink when she finally spoke.
“I don’t suppose the two of you are interested in a threesome?”
Z laughed as though the question was perfectly natural. Ryan inhaled sharply.
“Ma’am, trust me, if we swung that way, you’d be the first one in our bed.” Leave it to Z to flirt ruthlessly in an art gallery.
The response seemed to placate her, for which Ryan was grateful. It was the next thing that happened that threw him off.
Before Ryan could contribute to the conversation, Z turned to him and pressed his lips right on Ryan’s. It stole the breath from his lungs and nearly caused him to drop his champagne. He was saved from utter embarrassment when Z’s big hand wrapped around his, keeping the glass from falling to the floor.
Figuring Z was going along with the ruse, Ryan managed to control his response.
Barely.
Swallowing hard, he glared at Z when he pulled back, a promise of retribution in his eyes.
They needed to get the hell out of there. And fast.
“It was so nice to meet you,” Z told Cassandra. “But if you don’t mind, I need to steal him away for a bit.”
“Not a problem,” she said, still eyeing them as though they were an after-dinner mint—of the chocolate variety.
Ryan allowed Z to lead him away, his legs feeling slightly unsteady as he followed him. “How’d it go? Find anything?”
“There’re a couple of offices, but they’re locked,” Z informed him.
“And that stopped you?”
Z smirked. “Not at all. However, while I was snooping, someone went into the other, so I had to make like wind and scatter. There’s a desk in Amahn’s office, but it’s locked. I need to get back in there.”
Ryan shook his head. “Not tonight. We’ll send Clay back over when he gets down here. See if he can find something.”
Z didn’t seem happy with the response, but like usual, he didn’t argue.
“Find anything else?”
“One of the file drawers was unlocked, and I found a picture. Several, actually.”
“Of?”
“Amahn’s family.”
“Family? Like, his parents?”
“No,” Z said, his eyes hard. “Like…his wife and kids.”
“What?” Ryan turned to peer across the room. Amahn had his hand on Jericho’s arm. The pair looked cozy, and strangely, they did look like a couple in love.
“Wife and kids,” Ryan muttered before glancing back at Z. “How old do the kids look?”
“Grown. In their early twenties at least.”
That was an interesting twist. One Ryan would need to toss around for a bit.
EIGHTEEN
WHILE THE TWO OF THEM stood in the middle of the gallery, a handful of people milling about, Z couldn’t seem to take his eyes off RT. He was still imagining that kiss…and wishing like hell he’d added a little tongue.
Hindsight and all that.
It’d been interesting to throw RT off course so easily, but it hadn’t been his intention. Merely an attempt to keep up the charade, pretend to be a couple for the others around them. Especially since he’d nearly been caught snooping in Amahn’s office just a few minutes ago.
Not that he intended to tell RT that. What the man didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
But now Z was ready to head out.
Z inched closer to RT, keeping a smile plastered on his face as he got close to RT’s ear, inhaling the sexy, spicy scent of him as he said, “Please tell me you’re ready to get outta here. I think I’m allergic to this place.”
When another waiter scooted by, RT placed his champagne on the tray.
Good sign.
When RT took Z’s arm casually, he pretended that an influx of sensation hadn’t hijacked his nervous system. Focusing on putting one foot in front of the other, Z allowed RT to lead him over to Jericho and Amahn. He hated to head out too early, but he worried that spending too much time in that place might cause him to break out in hives.
Jericho’s eyes widened and a smile tilted his lips. “RT. Z. Are you gentlemen enjoying yourselves?”
RT nodded, returning a polite smile. “We are, but we need to be going.”
“So soon?” Amahn eyed them skeptically.
“We’ve got to put some finishing touches on that party,” Z said, mirroring Jericho’s words from earlier.
“Well, we look forward to seeing you tomorrow night.” Jericho nodded toward them.
“Likewise,” Z added. He was, of course, lying, but in his line of work, that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Not always, anyway.
When they finally climbed into a cab a good fifteen minutes later, Z yanked at his tie, loosening it.
“Will you quit fidgeting?” RT hissed.
Z glanced over, studying him for a moment. The guy was stressed, but Z wasn’t sure why. As far as RT knew, the gallery excursion was a success. After all, RT didn’t know that Z’s acting abilities had been put to the test when one of the gallery employees had caught him coming out of Amahn’s office.