Books of a Feather (2 page)

Our friends and family were all completely trustworthy, of course, and I was sure that trust extended to whoever was visiting us tonight. Everyone knew I worked with rare and often priceless books, yet I rarely showed off the books I was working on. It was safer for everyone that way.

“I'll be right there,” I called out, and turned in a circle, scanning my workshop for a long moment, looking for a good hiding place. There were lots of them. Besides my worktable in the center of the room, I had three walls of cupboards and counters and drawers that held all sorts of equipment and supplies. At the end of one counter was my built-in desk.

I grabbed my satchel and pulled out the eight books—the eight rare, extremely valuable books that I'd been entrusted with—and carefully slipped them into the deep bottom drawer of my desk and locked it. I would've preferred to stash them all inside the steel-lined safe in the hall closet near our bedroom, but this would have to do for now.

I felt almost silly for taking such precautions. It shouldn't have been necessary, since I was inside my own house. I wondered if I was being overly suspicious. But the answer was no, absolutely not.
I was all too aware that there were people in the world who would lie, cheat, steal, or kill for a book.
So better to be safe than sorry,
I thought, and was about to rush out to greet Derek and whoever was visiting us when I spied a fluffy bundle of fur clawing at the old sandals I wore for work and kept under my desk.

“Hello, my little peanut,” I said, and reached down to pick her up. “You're getting so big.” I lifted her into my arms and rubbed my nose against her soft furry coat. It made me a little sad to realize that Charlie, our beautiful little kitten, was growing up.

“Who's visiting us?” I whispered. She simply purred, and I hoped that meant that our visitor was friendly. I held on to her as I walked through the archway that led from my office workshop into our living room.

Derek stood by the wide counter that separated the kitchen from the dining-and-living area, pouring red wine into three glasses. Another man, wearing a beautiful navy suit, had his back to me. I couldn't see his face, but I noticed he had straight black hair and was nearly as tall as Derek. He had just said something that caused Derek to laugh. I stopped and listened to that deep, sexy sound.

“And there she is,” Derek said, spying me at last. “Darling, come meet Crane, one of my oldest friends.”

“I'm not that old,” the other man joked as he turned toward me. “Ah, how delightful.”

If I'd been walking, I might've stumbled. The man was Asian and spoke with a British accent and he was simply . . . beautiful. Not as dashing or as blatantly masculine and tough as Derek, but then, who was? Still, Crane's smile was brilliant and his dark eyes twinkled with humor. He was clearly a confident man, and that made him even more attractive.
But no man should be that pretty,
I thought vaguely.

It was a bit overwhelming to have two such gorgeous males smiling at me, but I decided I could endure it. I set Charlie down and hurried over to the bar to give Derek a quick hug and kiss, then turned to our guest and extended my hand.

“Hello, Mr. Crane. I'm Brooklyn.”

“It's just Crane,” he explained, and his smile grew as he gripped my hand warmly. “Nobody calls me ‘mister' unless they're soliciting for money.”

I laughed. “Crane, then. It's nice to meet you.”

“It's a pleasure to finally meet you, too, Brooklyn. I've heard many wonderful things about you.”

I glanced at Derek. He'd never said one word to me about his friend Crane before. And yet the man knew all about me? Hmm.

Derek bit back a grin, clearly reading my mind. “Darling, Crane and I were in school together. We haven't seen each other in at least five years.”

“Closer to six,” his friend admitted. “Although we chat on the phone occasionally.”

Derek set the wine bottle down. “It's a good thing. I'm always wondering if you've ended up in a federal penitentiary somewhere.”

I raised an eyebrow, but Crane just laughed. “And I always figured you'd be the one to wind up on the wrong side of the law.” He shook his head in mock dismay. “Instead you joined forces with the good guys.”

Derek shrugged. “Considering our misspent youth, it's surprising we both turned out this well.”

Crane nodded at me. “It was always a competition to see which of us could cause the most havoc in school.”

“You won in the end,” Derek admitted, handing each of us a wineglass. “But only through a technicality.”

I gazed at Crane. “How did you win?”

“I'm smarter?”

“He cheated,” Derek said dryly. “His grandmother left him a sizable inheritance and nothing was the same after that.”

“It's true—money changes everything,” Crane confessed with a worldly sigh. “It's not as much fun getting into trouble when you know you can simply bribe your way out of a jam.”

Derek chuckled. “I, for one, am grateful for a few of those bribes.”

I looked from one man to the other. “I'd love to hear some stories of Derek causing havoc.”

Crane leaned close. “I'll tell you everything, but first . . .” Straightening, he held up his glass. “I'd like to propose a toast, to old friends and new.”

We clinked glasses and took our initial sips of the excellent Pinot Noir Derek had poured.

“And as long as we're toasting,” Crane added, “I understand congratulations and best wishes are in order.”

“Oh.” I gazed up at Derek and touched my glass to his. I didn't know why, but I was truly moved that he'd told his friend about our engagement. Especially as the two of us had barely discussed it since we'd been home from Dharma. I looked over at his friend. “Thank you, Crane. That's so nice of you.”

Crane raised an eyebrow and seemed to be gauging my sincerity. After a moment, he nodded briefly and turned to Derek. “You're a lucky man, Stone.”

“I know,” Derek said, and met my gaze as he leaned close and kissed my cheek.

Happily flustered, I moved into the kitchen and quickly put together a cheese platter along with a bowl of crackers and some olives. Derek ushered Crane over to the living room, where he offered our
guest the big comfy red chair. I followed a moment later, setting the munchies down on the coffee table and joining Derek on the couch.

I glanced around and couldn't help admiring our newly remodeled space. Our living room was now almost twice as big as before and we had expanded the kitchen, too. We'd turned my second bedroom into a spacious office for Derek. The two bedrooms of the newly purchased loft had become a comfortable suite for guests that included their own kitchen. I was hoping this new addition would entice more of Derek's family to visit us from England. Especially now that we were getting married.

Married
. There was that tingling feeling again. I couldn't help grinning as Crane regaled me with tales of wild adventures from their prep school days.

“But enough of that nonsense,” he finally said. Changing topics, Crane leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Derek tells me you work with rare books. It would be fascinating to watch you do that.”

A flash of guilt made me hesitate. I'd hidden all my pricey books earlier, unsure whether our guest was trustworthy or not. Now that we'd officially met and I knew he was one of Derek's oldest friends, I felt a bit silly for having hidden them from him. Still, the books were valuable, so I refused to feel bad for being cautious. “Yes, I'm a bookbinder. I take books apart and clean them up and put them back together again.”

“She's being modest,” Derek said. “Brooklyn has a unique gift for repairing the rarest of books and making them come alive again. Almost like a skilled surgeon.”

“Without all the blood,” I murmured.

“But she's also an artist,” he continued. “She's designed some fantastic book art.”

I felt my cheeks heating up. I knew Derek appreciated my work, but all this lavish praise was going straight to my heart.

He tapped my knee. “Darling, Crane has an impressive art collection. I think he would enjoy seeing your work.”

“I would indeed,” Crane said, helping himself to a cracker. “I collect all sorts of art, including books. As you might expect, my interests are mainly in Asian art, but I'd very much like to see your work sometime.”

I gave Derek an assessing look, then said to Crane, “We'd love to have you join us tomorrow night at the Covington Library if you're free. They're having a big party to celebrate the opening of a new exhibit featuring Audubon's massive book of bird illustrations. It's a real masterpiece.” I gave a self-conscious shrug. “And if there's time, I can show you some of my own work on display.”

Crane blinked, clearly surprised by my invitation. But then he flashed me a spectacular smile. “I would like that very much. I was about to invite you both to dinner tomorrow night, but perhaps we could dine together this weekend instead. Are you available Saturday night?”

Derek and I exchanged upbeat glances and he said, “We are and we'd enjoy it very much.”

“Sounds like fun,” I chimed.

“Wonderful,” Crane said, pulling out his phone to send himself a reminder. “I'll make the arrangements and text you the details tomorrow morning.”

“Perfect.”

Crane settled back in his chair. “I must say, I find it remarkable that they're opening an Audubon exhibit while I'm in town. I don't believe I've ever told you this, but I happen to have a tenuous family connection to James Audubon.”

“Is that true?” I asked.

Derek leaned forward. “I had no idea, Crane. Tell us.”

Crane's laugh was self-deprecating. “When I say tenuous, I truly mean it.” He considered for a moment and then held out his hand to count on his fingers. “It's to do with my great-great-great-great-great-grandfather. Five ‘greats.' His name was Sheng Li, and he was born in 1795, the son of a prominent Mandarin scholar. His father arranged for him to be smuggled out of China to England because he wanted Sheng to attend Oxford and learn Western ways. Because he was an obedient son, my ancestor studied very hard. He spoke perfect English and was talented in math and science. But his true passion was art. He was a painter. And here's the big coincidence. It was his good fortune to meet the great painter James Audubon while traveling the east coast of Scotland.”

“That's amazing,” I said, imagining what it must have been like. “What a coincidence.”

“Isn't it?” Crane said, giving me a smile that said he knew exactly what I was thinking. “Audubon saw one of my ancestor Sheng's paintings and invited him to work as a colorist in anticipation of the publication of his great work of bird illustrations.”

I shook my head in wonder. “What a small world. And how excited Sheng must have been to get such a prestigious invitation. Although it couldn't have been easy for him, living as an artist in a foreign land.”

Crane's lips tightened into a scowl. “No, it wasn't. He was living in Britain during the lead-up to the first Anglo-Opium War, and despite it being fought thousands of miles away in the ports of China, people in England looked with great suspicion on the Chinese living in their country, especially as opium's use grew in popularity.”

“Was Audubon able to protect him at all?” I asked.

“Yes. At least, that is what Sheng wrote in his journal. Our family owes a debt of gratitude to him for that alone. And for allowing Sheng to work alongside him, as well.”

Derek, who had been leaning forward, listening intently, sat back on the couch. “So it's possible we could see some of your great-great, et cetera, et cetera grandfather's work tomorrow night.”

“I doubt it,” Crane said with an easy chuckle. “But it is a fascinating story, isn't it?”

“You sure know your family history,” I said.

“The study of one's ancestors is very important to Chinese parents.” He nodded. “Mine made sure we knew who all those ‘great-greats' were and exactly what they accomplished.”

“Families are so interesting and complicated, aren't they?” I grabbed a cracker. “Do you have brothers and sisters?”

“A brother.” He took a quick sip of wine. “And another odd story, if you care to indulge me.”

“Yes, definitely.”

He smiled. “Perhaps you have heard of the one-child policy of China?”

I pressed my hand to my mouth, chagrined. “That was so stupid of me. I forgot all about that law.”

“No, no. I don't wish to make you feel bad. It's a terrible policy that was finally changed just recently. My only point in mentioning it is that my parents were allowed to have two children.”

“How did that happen?” I was really intrigued now.

“My mother's family is from Hong Kong and my parents were living there when my mother gave birth to me. She suggested that we stay there a few years longer in order to have more children. It was still a British protectorate at the time, so it didn't fall under China's one-child policy. The sad irony is that once we were there, my mother
began having miscarriages, and the doctors decreed that she must stop trying to have children. The happy irony is that shortly after that we moved back to Beijing, and she found out she was pregnant. To avoid a forced abortion, she moved by herself to her sister's farm, where Bai was born. And that is how I wound up with one brother.”

“Wow,” I said. “So once you were reunited, I guess you must've felt pretty lucky. The only boy in town with a brother.”

Derek cleared his throat and took a sip of wine.

Judging by that, there was something I didn't know. I glanced from Derek to Crane. “Did I just step in it again?”

Crane laughed. “No, no. Derek is reacting to the fact that he has met my unfortunate sibling.”