27. Butterfly

It had been two weeks since I heard Brand’s voice anywhere other than in my dreams. I’d received messages via a secure app, but no sooner had I read them than they disappeared.

The day he left, I was glad no one had sent anything to commemorate my birthday. He had enough on his mind without feeling the need to plan something he had no time for.

That I didn’t hear anything from my mother or father was par for the course, as they say. I’d lived twenty-eight years without so much as a bouquet of flowers, let alone a birthday party.

One of my earliest memories of the day was my mother telling me that no one wanted to celebrate anything on the second day of January after spending the two days prior to doing so.

It was worse for Quinn. She was born on New Year’s Day, so when Tara and I went to California, we drank a toast to each other. Far more than that, actually, since we spent the following weekend wine tasting. Tara served as our designated driver, assuring us she didn’t mind. Being pregnant was worth every drink she didn’t have.

I felt a pang of jealousy when she said it, wishing Brand and I were already married and well on our way to starting a family. Then I reminded myself of everything my four best friends had been through in the time since we’d met. Each one of us deserved a happy ever after. Just because I was the last to find mine didn’t mean Ava’s, Aine’s, Tara’s, or Quinn’s journey to theirs had been less challenging.

While I worried about Brand every day, I knew in my heart that once he did what he was assigned to do in Italy, he’d be on the next flight home, where our lives together would begin in earnest.

Since the first of the year through mid-April was our slowest time of the year, I was perusing auction catalogs when I heard the ring at the gallery’s front door. Before I could buzz the person in, I glanced up when Tara, who was standing at the top of the stairs leading to her studio, did it, then walked away.

“Hello, Butterfly.”

Unlike when Brand had walked in the last time and said those same words, I didn’t hesitate. I jumped up from my seat, raced toward him, and landed in his arms. He picked me up and spun me in a circle. “I can’t believe you’re really here,” I said, scattering kisses all over his face and finally landing on his mouth.

He held me with one arm and the back of my head with his opposite hand while, at the same time, pushing his tongue between my lips.

“God, how I’ve missed you,” he said, sliding me down his body and setting me on my feet.

I put both hands on his cheeks. “Me too.” I kissed him again, then rested my forehead against his. “How long can you stay?”

“Not nearly long enough, but at least a few days.”

“Tara?” I called out.

“Yes?” she responded.

I looked over my shoulder and saw her standing a few feet away. Brand released his arms from around me, and I stepped aside so he could greet his sister.

When they whispered something to each other, I busied myself at my desk, unsure if I should go into the back or upstairs to give them some privacy.

I was about to stand when Brand approached after thanking Tara. “I’m whisking you away.”

I smiled. “Are you?”

“I’ll take care of the gallery for the next few days,” Tara offered. “If I need to, I’ll call in reinforcements.”

“You’re sure?”

She rolled her eyes. “Just get out of here, would you?”

“Happily.”

Neither Brandnor I spoke on the walk to the town house. Once inside, much like the day we’d picked out a Christmas tree, our clothes were off, scattered on the stairs, in the hallway, and finally near the bed where we spent the next few hours making love, talking, and just holding each other.

I didn’t ask anything about the last two weeks. I figured if he wanted to talk about it, he’d bring it up. Mainly, he wanted to hear what I’d been up to.

When I told him Tara and I had gone to California two days after he left for London and he asked why, I thought about telling him it was for no particular reason, but decided not to lie.

“We celebrated Quinn’s and my birthdays.”

He closed his eyes and groaned. “Good God, I forgot it.”

“You had a lot on your mind.”

He shifted me off of where I rested my head on his chest and turned so he was facing me. “We’ll celebrate now. Shall we go to dinner? Or is there something else you’d prefer?”

I giggled. “Staying right here, in this bed, with you is all I want or need. We could order takeaway too. Speaking of which, are you hungry?”

“Famished. As far as what I’d fancy, anything other than pasta would be great.”

We ordered burgers and,while we waited for delivery, took a bath together.

“Brand, I want you to know that if you want to or even can talk about the last two weeks, I’d be happy to listen. I also understand you may not want to.”

“There isn’t much to tell, to be honest. They keep me relatively sequestered while I build inventory. In the time I’ve been in Tropea, I’ve turned out almost twenty pieces.”

My eyes opened wide. “Do they let you sleep?”

“Only if I must. Fortunately, I ran out of originals and am now believed to be on a buying trip. Instead, I’m here while Typhon handles procurement.”

“Have you made any, um, progress?”

He chuckled. “No one suspects the painter. Which I suppose is why K19 and the coalition chose me.”

It wasn’t like Brand to be self-deprecating. I wasn’t sure how to address it, though. “What do you mean when you say no one suspects you?”

“Things are said in front of me the Sicilians think I’m too stupid to understand. Or they assume I don’t speak Italian. Don’t get me wrong, this is a good thing. I’ve confirmed my theory about their distribution channel. That they use one auction house but multiple brokers proves their own lack of intelligence.”

I shifted so I was facing him rather than resting against him. “I’m sorry I brought it up.”

“Don’t be, and I apologize for making you feel like you need to. It’s just that the amount of money these criminal enterprises bring in through illegal activity baffles me, especially given their complete lack of business acumen. Before, I’d do things my way to maximize profits. Now, I turn a blind eye.” He reached for me, turned my body, and pulled me into his arms so my back was to his front again. “We could arrange for the Calabrians to shut down the auction house. That alone would bring the Sicilians to their knees. However, we need more to make sure they’re out of the art-forgery business long enough for their rival to take over enough market share to keep them out for good.”

“Is the art side of it truly worth that much?”

“As you well know, prices for masterpieces, even by lesser-known painters, have skyrocketed. A Pollock sold for upwards of one hundred and fifty million. Take a Lee Krasner piece. The highest price fetched is a little over ten million. Forging it makes that money pure profit. Multiply that by the twenty paintings I’ve completed in two weeks and you get over two hundred million.”

“I never thought about it in those terms. Even if you produce five paintings a week, that equates to two and a half billion a year.”

Brand ran his fingertips down my arm, and I shuddered. “Granted, not all forgeries fetch ten mil. Some are less, and some are considerably more. Multiply the number of forgers you’re using, and those profits increase exponentially.”

“Do you know who produced the forgeries our gallery purchased?” I asked.

“I do not, and finding out is one of my objectives.”

“Do you think they’ll tell you?”

“What I think is that the artist will seek me out. I’m definitely cutting into his payday.”

I closed my eyes, glad Brand couldn’t see my face. Telling him I wished he didn’t have to return to Italy wouldn’t help. I’m sure he wanted this to be over more than I did. It was his life on the line—maybe from the artist whose payday was lessened—not mine.

“I love you, Brand,” I said instead.

He tightened his embrace. “I love you, Butterfly.”

Seven days later,he received a message from Typhon alerting him of several things. First, Flick, who I’d met at Camp Peary, had officially joined the coalition, and further intel regarding all organized crime in Italy, not just the two most powerful families, would be coming his way more rapidly. Second, another agent from Typhon’s team was also officially part of the UK task force. Third, his business in London was complete, and he was ready to return to Italy.

I ached when Brand said he had to leave that night. I tried to focus on how I’d been able to spend an entire week with him when I thought it might be months before we could be together.

Like before, he insisted we say goodbye at the town house rather than the airport. Knowing how hard I’d cried the last time he left, I knew it was for the best. Somehow, though, I felt like every minute we were together counted.

“Come home to me soon, Brand,” I said after the door closed behind him. There was no sense in wiping away my tears. They’d be streaming down my face for the rest of the day, at least.

The next morning,when I received an alert on the secure app, I grabbed my phone, anxious as I always was to hear from Brand. Instead, I saw a message from DeDe.

Is the offer of the place to stay still on the table? it said.

Definitely. How far from Patchogue are you?I responded.

When she answered saying it would take her at least three hours, I called Tara. “Brand left last night, but there are some things I need to take care of today. Would it be okay if I came back tomorrow?”

“Of course, but I was going to call you today and let you know a man stopped in wanting to meet with you about the gallery representing him. Or maybe not him. He might’ve said someone in his family. Anyway, I told him you were on vacation and wouldn’t be back for a few days.”

“Did you get his contact info?”

“I asked, but he said he’d stop in next week.”

“What about his name?” I asked.

“I didn’t get that either.”

“Tara, what the hell?”

“Sorry, but I was distracted.”

“By what?”

“Him. God, I love Knox more than anything, but this guy—damn, he was hot.”

I rolled my eyes even though she couldn’t see me. “Okay, so if a hot guy walks into the gallery next week, I’ll know he’s there to meet with me about representing someone in the gallery. So helpful, Tara.”

“I couldn’t help it. He was a hot-as-fuck Italian. You know I can’t resist them.”

“I hope Knox isn’t within hearing distance. Or listening in on your calls.”

“He’s neither, and even if he was, he knows that it wouldn’t matter who walked into the Catarina Benedetto Gallery. I could never want another man as much as I want him. To be honest, Pen, he’s the only person who’s come in for days. I think we should just close for the rest of the month.”

“Go ahead. I won’t mind.”

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Absolutely. Why sit there all day? If someone wants to reach us, they have other ways of doing so.”

“Knox and I have talked about returning to California for a few days. Want to join us?”

“Maybe. I’ll let you know.” Before I made any commitments, I had to talk to DeDe.

“She’s gotten so big!”I exclaimed when I looked up and saw her walk in with Linnea. “And I’m sorry to say you look dead on your feet.”

She set the carrier on the table and sat in one of the chairs. “I am.”

“I knew you must be if you made contact.”

“I’m sorry for the way I left?—”

I held up my hand. “Don’t apologize. And, by the way, I took the liberty of picking up a few things, but I wasn’t sure what size diapers Linnea was in.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “You are such a good friend, Penelope. As you’ve probably guessed, I wasn’t able to have many in my life.”

I hadn’t asked before, but since Tara thought someone was checking out the gallery, I felt like I needed to. “What about her daddy?”

I apologized when she covered her face with her hands and cried.

“He’s my best friend. I miss him so.”

Her words broke my heart. “I hope the two of you can find your way back to each other.”

“I do too.”

“After I help you get settled, I’ll come back and move your car. It’ll be in a garage, so anyone looking for it won’t find it,” I said on the ferry from Patchogue to Fire Island.

“Forgive me for asking, and you don’t have to answer this, but is everything okay with Brand? You haven’t mentioned him.”

I sighed. “He’s okay. Shortly after you left, he was called out of the country for work. We aren’t able to talk very often. In fact, when we do, we use the same app you do.”

“I spent every summer here,on the island, in a house that was built by my great-grandparents,” I said thirty minutes later when I pulled up to the cottage in one of the golf carts that always sat by the ferry landing. “It belongs to me now, so you don’t have to worry about anyone showing up unexpectedly.”

“The Butterfly Cottage?” she said, motioning to the sign.

“Every year, usually around mid-September, tens of thousands of monarch butterflies descend on Fire Island. They’re actually migrating from Canada to a mountaintop near Mexico City, so they aren’t here long. I try to visit every year to see it. I’m so afraid, with everything I hear about climate change, they’ll stop coming.” My heart hurt talking about it since it reminded me of Brand.

“I’d hardly call this a cottage,” DeDe said, taking in the property surrounding the two living spaces that were separated by a pool.

I chuckled. “Me either, but it’s what my grandmother used to call it. Compared to the size of the place her mom and dad owned in the city, I suppose they would’ve considered it small.”

Her eyes were wide when she took in the view of the ocean. “It seems so relaxing.”

“It is, especially at this time of year when no one is here. It’s very different starting from the Fourth of July through Labor Day.” I motioned for her to follow me. “The main bedrooms are this way.” I stopped at a closed door. “This is the nursery. I was the last to sleep here,” I told her, pushing the door open and walking over to the crib. “I hope it meets current baby-safety standards.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “It looks perfect.”

I looked inside the closet, stunned to see my old baby clothes folded on the built-in shelves. “I had no idea all this stuff was still here. Feel free to use any that fit. I mean, if you want to.”

DeDe picked up a folded dress and held it in front of Linnea, who reached for it. “I’m afraid she’ll ruin your things.”

“Please don’t worry about it. I want her to have them.” I smiled and stepped closer to the baby. “They’re yours now, sweet pea.”

Once again, DeDe’s eyes filled with tears. “You’re our guardian angel, aren’t you?”

“What I am is your friend and this little one’s fairy godmother.”

I stayed another hour and, after making sure DeDe and Linnea wouldn’t need anything else right away, decided to head straight to the airport from Patchogue rather than returning to the town house.

Going home would just make me miss Brand more, and if Tara was in California, that would mean I was the only member of the tribe here, on the East Coast. Getting out there too would at least keep my mind off him for a little while.