Page 95 of Share with Me

“Sounds good, sir.” Ivan calmed down, crossed his legs, and relaxed a bit.

“The new owner of the Schoenberg Strad has decided to loan it to SISO.”

“Wow. How generous. Who is he?”

“Don’t know. Only a patron of the arts who wants to remain anonymous.”

It made sense. Ivan thought that anyone who had over five million dollars to throw into the ring for a Strad had the right to remain anonymous. Maybe out of embarrassment at being the “winner” in the bidding war.

“Now we have the Strad. Our first ever Strad. The stipulation is that only SISO’s best violinist gets to play it.”

“Warren?” Ivan cringed.Aargh. Don’t give the man ideas!

Petrocelli laughed. Then just as quickly, his face returned to its normal sour disposition. “You, unfortunately.”

“Me?”

Petrocelli pointed to the big guy. “Mr. Art here is the string—”

“String? What string?”

“String attached.” Petrocelli frowned at Ivan the usual way. His eyebrows came together and his nose bridge wrinkled, his eyeglasses rising up. “Everywhere the Schoenberg Strad goes, Mr. Art goes.”

I bet Art isn’t even his real name.

“I hope you packed, Mr. Art.” Ivan looked at his new escort. “We’re going out of town for four days.”

“I’m always packed.”

Somehow Ivan suspected it was more than a suitcase full of clothes.

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