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"That was dramatic," I say.

Her eyes lift to mine.

"It was nothing."

"Right."

"It was."

"Of course."

She stares at me for a beat.

"You are enjoying this far too much."

"I'm enjoying standing here."

"That is not the same thing."

"No," I say. "It isn't."

Her expression hardens. I know exactly what I am doing. So does she. I step back before I push too far. For now.

Blaire turns the page.

"The condition is good," she says. "Better than I expected."

"Does that change anything?"

"It may strengthen the valuation."

"So Charlotte pays more."

"Potentially."

"She can afford it."

"That is not the point."

I glance at her.

"You're protecting your client."

"Yes."

"I would expect nothing less."

She looks at me again, and this time there is no irritation in it, just caution, and that interests me more.

A few minutes later, Helena returns with a small velvet-lined case.

"The brooch," she says.

She places it on the table and opens the lid. The sapphire is darker than I remember, framed by diamonds in a geometric Art Deco setting. Blaire leans forward.

"It's beautiful," she says.

Her voice changes, not softer exactly, more personal.