Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
The space between my shoulder blades tightened. “Sure.”
“How does a girl afford a three-thousand-dollar, two-bedroom apartment in Lincoln Square, with no roommates, on a temporary secretary salary?”
I swallowed. “I prefer assistant.”
His gaze narrowed. “Answer the question.”
I shrugged as I turned away to look at the shoe display. “Oh, you know. The usual way.”
He followed me. “Actually, I don’t. Tell me. Because I find myself wondering if perhaps Abakar hired you for that Art History degree you have from that fancy college.”
Crap.
Had he figured out I was the art forger? Was he playing me the whole time I was playing him?
I pivoted so quickly I had to grab onto a nearby shelf to steady myself. “How do you know about my art degree?”
“I know everything about you,” he warned as he stepped closer. “I want the truth, Vivian. Did Abakar pay you to select targets for the art forger to paint? Is that how you can afford all your purses and shoes and that apartment on your own? Were you the one who chose the auction houses most likely to overlook a forged painting?”
Before I could answer, skinny duck-lip returned with a carefully wrapped purse in a Gucci shopping bag. “Your purse, sir.”
Again, he didn’t even look at her. “Bill it to the Four Monks.”
The girl blinked. All signs of an attitude were gone. She practically genuflected as she backed away slowly. “Yes, yes, of course, sir. Absolutely. Right away,” she rambled as she scrambled to move away from us.
I nodded in her direction. “I’m guessing she knows what you do for a living.”
“Most do. Now answer my question, Vivian.”
My having an art degree would be too big of a coincidence. His explanation was better than admitting I was the forger he was looking for. Still…
“Why do you want to catch this forger so bad? Are you planning on turning him over to the police?”
He moved closer, pushing into a dark corner of the store. “Why are you protecting him?”
“Who says I’m protecting anyone?”
He placed a finger under my chin. “I do. And I’m always right.”
“Not in this case. Abakar told my… agency… that he wanted a… secretary… who had art experience because they’d need to understand gallery invoices and how to fill out the international custom forms. He never asked me about the specific artwork, and I never met the forger.”
I mean, technically you don’t meet yourself.
In a panic, I continued to expand the lie. “And for your information, I get rent help from my parents.”
“The parents you never call?”
I frowned. “How would you know—” I gasped. “My phone! You went through my phone!”
“Of course I did. I had to monitor it in case someone important called you, like your mother.”
Or the forger.
I scoffed. “And interrupt her bridge game down in Florida? Not likely. I want my phone back.”
He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out my phone.
I almost squealed in excitement when I saw the pink pearl case. Then I got mad. “You’ve had it with you this whole time?”
He shrugged.
Snatching it from his hand, I opened it to make sure he hadn’t seen any incriminating texts. Thank God, I never did business on my phone. Only through the fake Etsy shop I’d set up for “custom artwork” commissions.
As I scrolled through the text messages, something was off.
There were messages missing.
Then I opened the contacts.
There were contacts missing as well.
I held the phone out between us. “Did you delete all my male contacts and text messages?”
He turned his wrist to look at his watch. “We have to go. I have a meeting.”
Pulling the Gucci shopping bag from my grasp so he could hold it with my other purchases, he placed a hand on my lower back and ushered me out of the store.
Of course, his car was exactly where he’d illegally parked it without so much as a ticket.
“This isn’t over,” I warned as he ushered me into the passenger seat.
He refused to respond.
As we pulled into the parking lot, he turned and held out his hand. “Give me your car keys.”
I’d just finished putting my wallet, makeup bag, and keys in my new Gucci purse. “Why?”
“Because I’m going to have one of my men move it inside where it’s safe.”
“Oh. I guess that would be okay.”
I handed him my keys.
“Go up to the office. There are stacks of new membership applications that need to be filed.”
I gave him a mock salute before getting out of the car.
How hard could it be to find five stupid paintings?
It wasn’t like he could roll them up and stick them in a cupboard somewhere.
Technically, with the real Russian Mona Lisa accounted for, all five of my forgeries were worth nothing, not even on the black market.
So it wasn’t like they truly needed to be kept under lock and key.
I lifted the last painting on the wall in Var’s office to check for a wall safe.