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)
“Like this one?” I nod at the egg. “You think this is worth the gamble?”
“Absolutely.”
Holden leans back in his chair, visibly at ease, but I can sense a guarded tightness around him. I’ve felt it before when I was younger.
There’s a lot a person can hide in their smile, and for Holden, it’s rare. The pained curl of his lips he beams at Fairfax looks more like a war face.
A threat. A warning.
“Tell me more about the risks associated with this sort of artifact,” Holden says with a bite to his words. “Do these sales happen quickly?”
Jasper spreads his arms, welcoming.
“I’m an open book. You can look up all my acquisitions and see how successful they’ve been. Not all of them were dramatic wins commanding top dollar, of course, but that’s to be expected. So much depends on the market, and sometimes you can’t predict it. Same for how fast it takes to move it or put together an auction.” He shrugs.
“Can you guarantee a quick sale?” Another cutting look.
Oof. Holden Hardass isn’t playing today.
“Nothing in this world is guaranteed, Mr. Verity. But I will promise my best effort and a large pool of vetted buyers.”
“Vetted?” Holden’s smile drops, and his voice sharpens. “And what happens if this all goes wrong or you’re mistaken? Do you have a list of people I can reach for testimonials?”
Too aggressive!
I kick him under the desk.
“Of course,” Jasper Fairfax says smoothly. “I’ll be sure to email them once we finish here.”
“We’ve done our homework, just like you’d expect. How about your Russian contacts? How have your dealings there gone? Any comment on Mr. Baranov?” I don’t know the name he rattles off. It sounds Russian. “They found him dead on the streets of Minsk from a mafia hit on a business trip. Same year he bought a large collection of old Orthodox church paintings from you.”
“Oh my God, Holden,” I hiss.
I kick him again, banging the leg of the desk.
Fairfax’s smile tightens, but he looks at me, sensing what’s happening.
“Mr. Verity, I appreciate your strict attention to security concerns. I’d expect nothing less from the granddaughter of Leonidas Blackthorn.” He smiles warmly. “Alas, I understand your worries regarding a find this valuable. I’m not asking for any big commitments right now. Just time. Since we’ve come this far, will you please consider giving me that?” He levels a heavy look at us. “I assure you both you’ll hear from me tomorrow.”
“Of course,” I cut in, before my guard dog starts barking again. “Thanks so much for your time, Mr. Fairfax.”
With one last smile for the dealer, I stand, shake his hand, and stride back to the elevator, letting Holden collect the egg in its suitcase.
My hands are shaking.
My whole body feels like I just spent two hours on a rickety train ride, lagged out and stressed.
Screw it, I need some fresh air. I ignore the elevator for the stairs.
“Cleo!” he bellows behind me.
The arrogance.
Why the actual hell does he think I want to speak to him after his crappy attitude nearly blew it?
It was going so well, too.
Just stupid.
Doesn’t he want to ditch the egg so he can be free of me? Obviously, he doesn’t want to do this.
And the feeling’s mutual.
I’m pounding through the lobby, rushing out to the sidewalk, not paying attention to the ground, which suddenly feels uneven.
Pain.
A sharp bite rips through my ankle.
I pitch forward and go down hard.
My hands scrape the asphalt with a bone-shaking impact.
“Cleopatra!”
He’s behind me again. Just in time to watch me make a total ass of myself. Just awesome.
Mad, shameful tears fog my eyes when I scramble up to sit and see my broken heel.
Holy hell, bad omen.
Bad day.
Bad man, rushing to peel me up off the pavement, ignoring me when I slap at his arm.
“Get off me!” I bite off weakly.
He doesn’t.
Not until I’m standing again and steady under his big arms.
I hate that he helps.
I hate it even more when he hesitates to turn me loose.
“Let’s get out of here,” he mutters, already punching in a text for the valet who parked the car.
The car pulls up a minute or two later and Holden jerks the passenger door open for me. His eyes linger on me the whole time as I climb in, rattled and ego-crushed.
I don’t dare look at him the whole way back to the penthouse.
8
FORTUNE FAVORS THE BOLD (HOLDEN)
Ifucked up.
I know I’ve fucked up.
I’d have to be blind, deaf, and dumb to miss it when it hits and bounces off my head like a rock.
Hell, I wonder if Cleo would notice if I was spontaneously struck senseless. Because ever since we left Fairfax’s lair, she hasn’t looked at me once.
So maybe I went too far.
Maybe I should’ve just let the man sing his spiel without going out of my way to grill his ass until I was convinced he was worth trusting.