“I know, I know. The best friend.” Quentin did the up-and-down thing. My five-ten frame towered over him, so his eyes just focused at the level of my breasts and worked their way south to my knees before lifting back up to meet my glance. “The sex crimes prosecutor. Nina talked about you for the entire flight yesterday. That’s an interesting job you’ve got. We ought to have a chat sometime, just the two of us. Like to hear more about what you do.”
Quentin turned to exchange his empty wineglass for a full one, and I gave him a nod as I walked away. Nina blew him a kiss and followed me.
“That’s the guy who’s running this show?”
“Worked with Spielberg for twelve years. He’s absolutely ingenious at designing interactive materials and futuristic movie images. Makes inanimate objects look like flesh and blood. He sees things in ways that nobody else does.”
“That much was obvious to me.” I stood on tiptoes, looking over heads and shoulders for any sign of Jake. “Did the big guns at the Met and Natural History ever meet Quentin before today?”
“You think we wouldn’t have done a deal if they had?”
“Have you lost your mind? This museum was founded by old men. Very rich, very white, very Presbyterian. Natural History was pretty much the same. The good old boys may be dead and buried, but this place isn’t exactly run by the most diverse crowd in town.”
“Somebody on the project did his homework. Our advance group managed all the hands-on work to get this event up and running. Probably the preppiest-looking film team I’ve ever seen west of the Mississippi. Hired a white-shoe law firm here to handle the contract work. Saved the outing of Quentin for tonight’s gala, the big announcement.”
“How’d that go?”
“Listen to the buzz. The trustees, the press, the upper crust-whoever these people are, they seemed thrilled about the news.” Nina steered me to the small recess at the center of the taller building, the gateway to the Temple of Dendur. She was looking for a quieter place to tell me about the presentation that I had missed.