Page 272 of The Spider Queen

I said nothing as she continued to look around, every now and again nodding to herself. Once she’d made the rounds, her eyes landed on the Garden of Eden snow globe. I’d forgotten to take it to the back out of sight.

She gestured to it. “Wow. Is this your newest work?”

I felt oddly protective of the music box and discreetly tried to move so my body shielded it from Barrett’s gaze.

“It’s not. The music box is broken and I’m determined to fix it. So, what brings you to my neck of the woods?”

“One of my favorite Chinese restaurants is around the corner. I make a point to stop by every time I’m in New York.”

She turned away and went to a display case. Her finger traced along the ornately carved door. “You make beautiful things, Stella. I came here because I want to sell them in Dornoch. My best friend, Ash, has an art gallery there.”

“Snow globes aren’t really art gallery material.”

Barrett swiveled to smile at me. “Aren’t they? It’s an intimate space, but Dornoch is surprisingly entrepreneurial. The Scots are…” She paused in thought for a moment and then went on. “Well, they’re an odd blend of pragmatic with a healthy dose of superstition. Scotland is magical.” She looked abashed, but her smile was genuine.

“It’s beautiful,” I agreed.

“You’ve been?”

I nodded. “Edinburgh. Inverness. Orkney. Not some of the lesser-known spots like Shetland.”

Though I’d enjoyed Scotland, I didn’t have the heart to tell her I’d enjoyed Ireland more. I understood what she meant about Scotland being magical, though. There was just something about the place…

“What do you think?” she pressed.

“About what?”

“About selling your globes in Dornoch.”

I frowned. “I’ll need some time to think about it.”

“What is there to think about? It’s a great opportunity.”

“What’s in it for you?” I demanded.

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You. What do you get out of this?” My gaze narrowed, willing her to answer, but all Barrett did was smile and look innocent.

“Your creations deserve to be seen. They won’t be seen here. Not in this shop off the beaten path, even though it’s in Manhattan. You don’t even have a sign on the door.”

“I don’t do it for the money,” I said quietly. “I do it because I love it.”

“So the answer is no?”

“The answer is no. Thank you, though. It’s a nice offer, but…” I shrugged. “What’s the other reason you came here?”

“I’m inviting you to my birthday celebration. Friday at nine p.m. The Gold Ballroom at The Rex.” She reached for her sunglasses and slid them on. “Oh. It’s a masquerade.”

“But—”

“Stella,” she began with a rueful shake of her head. “This, I won’t let you say no to. I’ll see you there.”

“I can’t go to a masquerade,” I said as I collapsed onto Herron’s ten-thousand-dollar, stark-white plush couch.

She poured a glass of red wine and handed it to me. “Um, I’ve got news for you. If the Campbells want you at their party, you go to their freakin’ party.”

“What does that even mean?” I demanded. I looked away from her to glance out the window. It was just past sunset—I’d closed the shop early. The Garden of Eden snow globe was pissing me off. I couldn’t seem to fix the music box, but I’d be damned if I gave up. I just needed some time away from it.