“Oh, that’s wonderful,” I said, satisfied with the sense of closure I felt. The book would be a fitting memento of the ring of thieves we’d all had a hand in breaking up.
“You deserve it,” she said, then smiled at Minka. “So, I guess everything works out for the best.”
“Whatever,” Minka said, then turned and snapped at me, “And I don’t owe you a damn thing.”
“Works for me.” It felt more than right to go back to being enemies, as if we’d ever stopped. I gazed at Derek as I wound my arm through his. “I think we’re done here.”
Naomi tilted her head and studied Minka. “You know, Minka, I’ve tried and tried to be nice to you, but I’ve finally figured out what the problem is.”
Minka pretended interest. “Oh, do tell.”
Naomi planted her hand on her hip. “You’re just a mean bitch. And I’m sick of dealing with mean bitches.”
Minka’s laugh was harsh. “Whatever. God, you’re lame.”
“Fine. I may be lame, but you’re fired.” Naomi swiveled on her toe and walked out.
And the crowd went wild! Well, I did anyway. Internally. After all, Minka was still in pummeling range and I didn’t want to make myself a bigger target for her wrath than I already was.
And I would never admit this to Minka, but it had done my heart good to watch her riding Alice Fairchild like a rodeo star. I would always look fondly on the memory of Minka LaBoeuf clinging to that psycho little blonde like the blood-sucking tick that she was.
It was almost surreal to see that the party was still going strong. People laughed and toasted and mingled among the shelves of books and displays.
As I stood arm in arm with Derek, I could see Gunther Schnaubel signaling to him as he pushed his way through the crowd. What did he want now?
Karalee ran up and hugged me. “You won the Peachey knives. Congratulations.”
“They already announced the auction winners?”
“Awhile ago,” she said. “I shouldn’t really congratulate you since we were bidding against each other for almost every prize.”
“Sorry,” I said, not really meaning it but trying to be nice.
She grinned. “That’s okay. I won the other Peachey knife.”
“The ergonomic one?”
“Yes, it’s so cool.”
“I’d love to try it out sometime,” I said.
We talked more about the auction, and bookbinding equipment and classes, all the normal stuff. Then our conversation switched to Alice and Layla. Karalee wanted to know what had happened and I wanted to tell her. But I couldn’t concentrate because Gunther was talking to Derek now, discussing their plans to return to London in the morning.
My chest felt tight. Derek was leaving and we still hadn’t managed any real alone time. And now he was mad at me for sneaking into the closet against his orders. He didn’t look particularly angry, but he also hadn’t mentioned the two of us heading off for that deserted island anytime soon.
Unable to hear any more of their travel conversation, I grabbed hold of Karalee’s hand. “Let’s go see who else won the auction prizes.”
“Okay,” she said cheerfully.
I snagged a glass of champagne from a passing waiter’s tray and stared blindly at the list of auction winners.
So, Derek would leave tomorrow.
I took a long, stiff swallow of the bubbly liquid. I’d known from day one that he would go eventually, and I’d been determined from the start to stay strong. I could handle this. I would smile and wish him a safe flight home, back to where he belonged. And then I would go on with my life. I had friends, a great job, a wonderful family.
I would miss him, of course, but I would survive. It might be touch and go for a little while because, after all, I’d grown rather used to having him around. We’d become close. Very close. Not close enough, but I liked him a lot. I suppose you could say I liked him more than any man I’d ever known before.
But still, he was a dangerous habit I would have to break myself of. It should be simple enough. After all, he was geographically undesirable, to say the least. Thousands of miles and an ocean separated us and nothing could change that. I’d cured myself of bad habits before. I could do it again. And I would. Eventually.
Karalee drifted off to talk to others and I sipped my champagne alone.
“There you are, Brooklyn.”
I turned to greet Cynthia Hardesty.
“I’m in total shock about timid little Alice,” she admitted. “But I have to tell you, I still won’t mourn Layla too much.”
“I understand,” I said. And I was right there with her, but I wasn’t going to say it out loud.
With the party still in high gear, rumors were flying. The police had tried to be subtle, but with the catfight between Alice and Minka and the gunshot and the police interviews going on, it wasn’t surprising that word had gotten out about what had gone down in the back room.
She continued, “We’ve already told Naomi we want her to be the acting director for the next three months.”
“Good.”