Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 131651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 658(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 658(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
“My reputation never whispers, young lady.” I can hear the smile in his voice. “You’re quite right. My heart belongs to Mediterranean art, ancient or modern, but that’s hardly my only mistress. There are so many precious things in this world worth protecting.”
“Yeah. So many lost to us, too. It’s not always about the money.” I wait to see if he disagrees.
“Absolutely. After the valuation, are you looking for a buyer? An auction, perhaps? We had great success with that when we put up several pieces from your grandfather’s collection.”
“Probably a private sale,” I say. “I haven’t decided what I’m going to do with it yet, but I just want to find it a good home. Somewhere it will be truly appreciated.”
“Sure. Well, once I’ve determined your item is genuine, it’ll take me some additional time to research the market and give you a specific starting price. And if you were looking to sell, Miss Blackthorn, my contacts are extensive. Depending on the piece in question, a sale could happen rapidly, if it’s a showstopper.”
Wouldn’t that be lovely?
I’d never have to lay eyes on Holden Verity again, and I’m sure he’d be just as thrilled with that.
“It’s a stunner,” I say.
“I don’t doubt it. You wouldn’t have called me if it wasn’t.” There’s a warmth in his voice. Not arrogance, but confidence in his own worth.
“And you’re confident you can find out if it’s authentic?”
“Of course. I have a lot of contacts, as I say. I like to think my own knowledge is extensive, but I know how to fill in the gaps.” He chuckles. “When you’ve been in this business as long as I have, you know who to call and who owes you favors.”
Hmph. While I don’t love involving too many people, his contacts are probably legit.
I’m tempted to just bite, especially when I haven’t felt good about the other names on PopPop’s list.
Not for something this big.
“When would you like to visit my office in New York?” he suggests. “Bring the item in and I’ll have a look. No guarantees, of course, but I expect I’ll be able to tell you the basics, and if it is a sale you’re after, we can go from there. In fact,” he adds, “if it’s everything you’re suggesting, I may just buy it myself.”
Another idea I don’t instantly love. But maybe I’ll feel better after I meet him.
“That would be great. Thanks so much.”
“How soon can you get here?”
“Tomorrow afternoon? Does two o’clock work?”
“I’ll clear my schedule,” he says warmly. “It’s my pleasure, Miss Blackthorn. Until tomorrow.”
I hang up and toss my phone on the desk.
Winner. I guess.
And it only took me half the day.
I’m not sure why I’m frowning.
Nerves. That must be it. This situation frays me like nothing else.
I exit the room to find Holden and tell him we’ve got a meeting—and we’ll have to book it if we’re going to get there in time—but the moment I leave the room, I hear his voice.
I think he’s on the phone.
But he’s not talking like I did, all professional with polished politeness. There’s a warmth there I haven’t heard before.
It makes him sound softer. Human, even.
Weird for a man who could cosplay as Wolverine.
“Tell me about your day.” I can hear his smile.
I stop in the hall, unable to resist a little eavesdropping, staring at the alcove by the window where Holden sits.
A small, tinny voice comes through the speaker. One guess who’s on the other end.
The adorable, enthusiastic little girl I met when he showed up. Kit sounds like she’s telling him about some history project. Russian-inspired.
I’m no expert on Russian history, but I have the brief, overwhelming and totally inappropriate urge to crash their conversation to ask if she loves Anastasia like I do.
Only the best animated movie ever.
I even did a project on Rasputin for a history class in college and the real deal was bonkers. It’s pretty rare to find men who crawl out of the wilderness to hypnotize royalty while they fuck their way through the entire royal court.
Of course, I can’t mention that now. But hey, maybe when she’s older.
I mean, not that I’ll know her when she’s old enough to talk about the nitty-gritty of the freaky mystic con man who had the Tsarina in his palm until he was shot repeatedly and drowned. Probably better she doesn’t know about his murder or sex life until she’s in college.
A bit of rough, my history professor agreed.
But the high society ladies did love it, though. I get it, even if my tastes have always veered toward straight-edge, put together guys with just a hint of edge.
No judging.
Holden glances up and scowls when he sees me. It doesn’t help that I’m smiling like a soppy idiot at him.
His face tightens, icing over.
Goodbye loving father, hello emotionless hardass.