Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 120(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 120(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
“Oh, I—I hope I didn’t wake you.” Geoffrey does a very bad job of not checking me out. His eyes go right up my body from my heels to my breasts in a quick sweep, then back down to the laptop, which he opens again as though he’s forgotten something.
“No, not at all,” I reply.
“I was just sent up here to check something for Callum,” he laughs, embarrassed. “But you scared me, and I just closed my browser and the laptop by mistake!”
“I’m a ninja,” I tease, striking a silly pose. “Better not upset me, I’ll sneak up on you when you’re least suspecting.”
Geoffrey smirks, types something quickly, then closes the laptop and stands.
“Duly noted. If you’d like to come downstairs, I believe Callum is returning shortly.” I follow Geoffrey downstairs, and sure enough, he’s coming in the front door just as we reach the foyer.
“The queen of the house,” he announces. Geoffrey shifts uncomfortably by my side at this but says nothing. “Don’t you look gorgeous this morning.”
“I have to say, I feel quite regal.” I smile as I take his side. “And you look quite lethal today.”
It’s true. Callum is wearing a black suit with black shoes and a white shirt open at the collar with a simple platinum chain. He hasn’t shaved, either, so he has a little bit of scruff that gives him a harder than normal edge.
Smiling, he takes my hand and pulls me in for a kiss. “I’m glad you’re up. There’s something I want to show you. Come with me.”
Callum leads me out to the car, and like my date to the prom, helps me in and closes the door behind me before going around to his side and getting in. I try not to stare as we drive, but it’s hard to keep my eyes off him; he’s just so handsome. It almost feels like a dream as we drive. How did I get here? It can’t have happened the way it did, can it?
Eventually, Callum pulls up in front of a white modern building that is very clearly some kind of museum. It’s no-parking, but he parks there anyway and gets out. I follow his lead.
“A very sensitive date for a mobster,” I tease.
Callum smiles. “I bought the place, and I want your thoughts on the first artist I’ll be showing when we open in a week.”
Wow, I was not expecting that.
Touched, I find myself smiling the whole way as Callum takes my hand and leads me inside, past the girl standing at the door who has clearly been hired to manage the place and is running around frantically with a tablet in one hand and a phone in the other, and past a group of workers busy with a delivery of paintings on dollies.
We turn into the first exhibition room, all white with a single rectangular bench in the center. Around it hang eight paintings, all modern art, splatter paintings of various blues over base layers of metallic grays and whites. They’re absolutely hideous and look like something a six-year-old could have done.
“The artist calls this section ‘The Electric Sky,’” Callum says.
“I see,” I reply.
After a moment, he leads me into the next room. Again, all white with a single rectangular bench in the center. This time, six paintings hang around the room, various shades of red splattered over metallic pastel pinks. Equally hideous and equally lacking in any artistic talent.
“The artist calls this ‘Sparkling Lip Stick,’” Callum says.
“Right.”
This goes on for another four rooms—equally terrible paintings with equally pretentious names until we’re in the final room of rainbow splatter entitled “Life as Capitalism.”
Callum turns to me and smiles. “Well?”
It’s terrible. That’s what I want to say, but that would be awful. He’s a gangster, and apparently he has a secret love of art that he wants to get into. He’s brought me here to show off that new love, and I should be supportive. Shouldn’t I?
But should I lie to him? A man in his position must respect honesty over everything.
“Well, I…”
God, what do I say?
I look at him, with those ice-blue eyes that seem to pierce right through me and into my soul. They hold my gaze, lock me in place. I can’t lie to this man. I just can’t. I have no choice but to tell him the truth, no matter how much it ends up hurting him.
I take a deep breath, but just as I’m about to speak, I see a tiny shift in his expression—a hint of something, almost a playfulness that most people wouldn’t recognize. I wouldn’t even have noticed it if not for all those days with my dad teaching me how to see into people.
And then I realize.
“Aha!” I blurt out, pointing straight at him. “You sleazy jerkball!”
Callum drops his jaw and pretends like he’s insulted. “Sleazy jerkball?”