Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 105921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Bullshit. It was totally his fault. I'd done just fine controlling myself for years. Years! Then Tenn barrels into my life and suddenly I couldn't keep my lips to myself? Totally his fault. I shoved another fork full of eggs into my mouth and scowled down at my plate.
"I have a proposal for you," he said easily. Of course, my mind immediately assumed he meant that kind of proposal. Not the ring kind, the naked kind. Mouth curving as he read my thoughts, he said, "Get your mind out of the gutter, Scarlett."
This time, I did throw the biscuit at his head. He caught it easily, setting it on the side of his plate. "Savannah doesn't allow food fights in the dining room. You throw it, you clean it up."
That statement intrigued me. "Do I want to know how you know that? Aren't all of you too old for food fights?"
He eyed the biscuit I'd lobbed at his head. "Apparently not. Anyway, do you want to hear my proposal?"
I gave him a single, regal nod, trying to claw back my composure. I was a college professor, for God's sake. I didn't throw food at the table. I also didn't kiss men I barely knew. Everything about the last twenty-four hours was wildly out of character. Thatcher had a lot to answer for.
Get real, my inner voice chided. You can blame the trip here on Thatcher. Even the breaking and entering. That kiss, though… That's entirely on you.
"I ran this by Griffen last night," Tenn began, "and you can say no, but you don't have much to do until West finds the shooter, so…"
"What is it?"
Tenn pushed aside his plate and picked up his coffee. "My family used to have a significant collection of artwork. You saw some of it yesterday in the library and scattered through the house."
I nodded, not sure where he was going with this. Prepared to wait, I slathered butter and honey over a biscuit.
"Some of it is missing."
My eyes bugged out of my head. Mouth full of biscuit, I chewed furiously.
"We don't know exactly what's missing and what's just been moved. Griffen and Hope found receipts that indicate some pieces were sold, but others are straight up gone. You've seen the gallery and music room."
I sipped coffee to wash down the biscuit, thinking about the tour the day before. The gallery and music room were in the front of the house on the first floor and normally would have been filled with art meant to show off to guests. Instead, both rooms had been stripped bare.
"I thought you were redecorating."
"Not exactly. My father started renovating a few years ago, hinting that he was bringing home a new Mrs. Sawyer. Then, one day, the renovations stopped. He got as far as re-doing the master suite and the bathrooms in the family wing before he quit. He never said what happened, and the one time Ford asked, Prentice lost it so he let it go. At the time, we thought he was moving the art while there were contractors in the house, but none of it ever reappeared."
"What do you want me to do?" I thought I knew, and if I was right, Tenn was about to make my life a whole lot easier.
"We need someone to catalog what's in the house so we can compare it to the list our attorney has and see what's missing and what's just been moved."
"Why me? Aren't you worried I'll steal something?"
Tenn raised one eyebrow. "You met Hawk, right? You really think you're going to get out of this house with a duffel bag filled with priceless artwork?"
"Good point." Not that it mattered. I wasn't a thief, though the Sawyers didn't know that. And, well, I was kind of a thief. If I found that little bust of Emperor Vitellius… But no. Not even then. I might use the statue to get to Thatcher, but after that, I'd return it to the rightful owner. As soon as I figured out who that was.
Getting back to business, I pointed out, "You know I'm not a professional appraiser? I do appraisals in my area of expertise, but I'm not qualified to do general appraisals."
"We know. We don't need anything appraised. We're more interested in a catalog. Take pictures, note where the piece was and what you think it is. At the least, it would be a start. We don't usually have an art history professor just hanging around the Manor with nothing better to do."
I shrugged one shoulder and sipped my coffee. "I guess I can help." I didn't want Tenn to know he was handing me exactly what I wanted. As an added bonus, something to do would keep me away from Tenn. A little distance might get my head on straight before I jumped him again.