The last rays of sunlight fell across the red and brown tiled shield hanging on the wall in mockery. He swirled the liquid around in the glass and sighed. Pale yellow Macaw feathers swayed softly in the light breeze from the open patio.
John slowly sipped his drink with his eyes fixed on the opposite wall. Blair didn't even notice it earlier. An ancient Peruvian shield made by the Moche tribe and Blair amateur anthropologist didn't even give it a glance.
He'd really thought . Hell! He didn't know what he was thinking. Blair'd always threw a fit when he'd won for his clients--when he did his damn job. Winning was a mistake in his eyes. Blair was always rooting for the little guy.
With a shake of his head he stood up and walked out onto the balcony. He tilted his head up towards the sun. Images of Blair laughing flashed through his mind.
The 700 A. D. Peruvian feathered shield he'd bought would make a decent tax write off once he donated it to Rainier.