Chapter 14
fourteen
AMANTHA
Rolling gray clouds threatened the city of Chicago. The June breeze was unpredictable, thick with the promise of rain. Fitting. Any encounter with Val Russo could ruin someone’s day, but meeting him in public? Well, that could obviously ruin the perfect summer weather we’d been having.
This better not be an omen.
I had a sinking suspicion that it was.
Already sticky from the humidity, I had caught a taxi from my apartment to Lincoln Park. Refusing to be uncomfortable—more than I already was—I wore a pair of trendy cut-off shorts Kate had forced me to buy and a boring, pale blue cotton t-shirt.
Balance.
I had strongly considered ignoring Val’s demand to meet.
Anthony had finally called earlier this morning, and while it was wonderful to hear his voice, my renewed awareness of the distance between us weighed down on me.
All I wanted to do was drive home to Mom for our heartache tradition of eating a pint of ice cream and binging TV.
And that forged painting wasn’t helping my mood either. Stumbling upon criminal evidence, with Val of all people, was the last thing I had expected. Why wouldn’t Val at least tell Kendra? It still didn’t make sense. No matter how I spun it, something felt off.
Winding through the grassy knolls, another persistent thought unsettled me. My fingers mindlessly trailed up and down my arms as I walked, a phantom replica of Val’s touch.
Rick’s closet.
How dare Val shove me into it like he owned the place. My blood had already been boiling, but my temperature had continued to rise for an entirely different reason. Val’s touch had been electrifying, his golden-flecked eyes captivating.
I couldn’t fight a tiny smile from breaking over my face. Those soft, concerned words sounded so unlike him—or so I thought. He had, in that moment at least, seemed to truly care about my wellbeing.
My smile faltered.
But I hated Val. Didn’t I?
Well, maybe hate was too strong a word. Dislike? Indifferent to?
Sure, I had learned more about the man that didn’t scream “serial killer,” but was that enough?
Last night had been intense in every sense of the word.
I clapped a hand to my forehead with a self-deprecating laugh. Of course my body’s reaction was because of the forgery. I was in shock, and that was that.
Regardless, I couldn’t ignore the increase of my heartbeat as I neared the Eli Bates Fountain.
Strolling around the curving path, I glimpsed the beautiful fountain. Glossy black marble surrounded the bubbling water. Two bronze mermen rose from the middle, their arms wrapping around jumping fish.
Val hunched on a nearby bench with a surly expression, staring down at his phone.
His dark hair looked curlier than usual, like the humidity in the air had settled into the coils.
He was clean shaven and wore a pair of perfectly tailored jeans.
I groaned at the pretentious short-sleeved white button-up hugging his biceps.
Stalking toward him, I said, “Of course you would wear a stuffy button-up on Sunday. It’s the weekend, Val. Live a little.”
He startled at the sound of my voice, scanning the landscape until his eyes found mine. Val stood and slid his phone into the front pocket of his jeans. His brow furrowed, though his mouth slanted in a sly smile. He took me in, lazily spanning the length of my body.
My stupid heart forgot to beat.
“Says the girl in a plain t-shirt. At least one of us should care about our appearance.” He clapped a hand to his ridiculously muscled chest. “I’m happy to take this one for the team.”
I rolled my eyes, but a laugh puffed out of me. “I can’t believe you’re this awful outside of work too. You must be exhausted.”
“When it comes to you, it’s surprisingly effortless.” He shot me a roguish grin.
Scanning the stormy sky, I said, “I must say, I’m surprised you wanted to meet here, Russo. In the great outdoors.” I turned in a slow circle, opening my arms to the horizon. I gasped, my eyes growing bigger over his shoulder. “Is that a bird?!”
Val tensed as if bracing for an attack from behind. After a long moment, he cracked one eyelid. Any traces of trepidation were replaced with irritation as I buckled over with laughter.
“Ha. Ha. Ha.” His sarcasm only brought me more joy.
“I’m sorry.” I wiped the streaming laughter from my eyes. “It was either that or rent a golf cart, but clearly you can’t be trusted with one of those.”
A ghost of a smile flicked across Val’s features. “You’re the worst, Adams. I’ll remember this. And Rick’s going to get an earful from me for telling you that stupid story to begin with.” Furtively scanning the sky behind him, he seemed to fully relax once certain the coast was clear.
He gestured to the path. “Sit, or walk?”
“Walk. Then there’s less chance of you boring me to sleep.” I sauntered past, but Val’s long strides caught up in seconds.
“So, tell me again exactly how you knew Felix’s lake piece was a fake,” he said.
“Felix’s lake piece?” I repeated, highly affronted. “That’s like calling the Mona Lisa DaVinci’s ‘mediocre-looking woman who couldn’t smile properly.’ Jeez Val. And you call yourself a curator.”
“First off, Mona Lisa wasn’t mediocre-looking. In her time, I heard she was quite a babe.”
An unexpected laugh burst from my mouth. Did Russo just make an actual joke?
“Second, will you just answer my question already?”
Those captivating eyes of his crashed into mine, liquid gold flecks glittering. And just like that, the invisible, electrical force sparked back into existence between us. It felt tangible and dangerous.
I ignored my racing heart and decided to lay it out in the open and watch his expression for tells.
“I already told you last night. In Rick’s closet? Or did you forget?” I was rewarded with a hint of nerves on his otherwise cool demeanor.
So I’m not the only one thinking about it.
The thought simultaneously thrilled and annoyed me.
“Remind me again,” he muttered.
“The brushstrokes were off.” I shrugged.
“Okay, but off how?”
I stopped short with a puff of air. “Felix Andreas was a realist. Textured, loose brushstrokes with paint ridges weren’t his style. The corner of the dock was supposed to be smooth and polished. It wasn’t.”
Val’s face screwed up in contemplation, a slight frown marring his features. He slid his hands into his pockets as we resumed walking side by side.
“You also mentioned a lily?” he asked.
“The lily’s petals weren’t ivory. They were white. Like, titanium white.” I named the paint color I suspected. “The original lily has yellowed over time.”
“Well, my authentication colleague should text me any minute now. He and Rick should be finishing up soon.”
“What?! You told Rick about the painting?” I whirled on him.
“No! I said Attersee was being appraised for an independent party. Rick was only involved to let him in.”
Seconds ticked nearer to minutes as we stood watching each other. Light wind picked up a few of Val’s curls, lifting them from his forehead. Thunder rumbled in the distance.
I ducked my head and tucked a lock of windblown hair behind my ear.
Val raised an unexplained eyebrow, as though he could somehow sense my pulse quickening. Again, he seemed to be concealing the twitches of a smile.
What is with you?
We began to move again.
“So, what do we do now?” I asked.
Val speculated up at the stormy sky. “Well, if it is fraudulent, finding the accession form would be the first step. That may give us some information on how the forged piece came to be at the museum.”
A black ponytail caught my eye farther on the horizon as it swung side to side. A gorgeous middle-eastern woman was jogging down the path toward us. Her tiny pink spandex shorts and sports bra matched her running shoes.
Vanessa.
What was she doing here? Why wasn’t she in Europe with Ryan?
And why, of all places on this green freaking earth, was she in Lincoln Park at this exact moment?
Panic collapsed my lungs as I spun in front of Val, clutching his muscular shoulders. Alarm widened his eyes at my frazzled expression.
“Listen,” I pleaded, “I need you to pretend to like me. Even just pretend to tolerate me for the next few minutes.”
Val’s gaze skirted around me to the approaching nightmare.
I must have looked like I’d seen a ghost—or my ex’s home-wrecking girlfriend, for that matter—so I slipped on a breezy expression and turned to face the inevitable.
Of course Vanessa would look this good exercising. She didn’t sweat, she glowed.
So that was a real thing, then? I always thought the fitness magazines were just sweat-shaming me.
Her brown eyes widened as she caught sight of me. Vanessa’s gaze flicked back to the path, as if she wanted to blaze past and pretend she never saw us. Unfortunately, she plucked out her earbuds and came to a stop.
“Vanessa. Hi,” I said.
She raked her eyes over Val, her perfectly groomed brows peaking in response. Vanessa’s blatant admiration of him felt maddening for some reason. She couldn’t have both my husband and Val!
Just…on principle.
“Hello, Amantha,” she said. “I’m surprised to see you in the city on a weekend.”
You’re surprised? Why are you still on this continent?
But then again, Vanessa had a nasty habit of popping up in places she didn’t belong.
“I’m surprised to see you too. Why aren’t you in Europe with Ryan?”
“I’m sorry, who’s Ryan?” Val’s pointed look at me conveyed how rude it was to exclude him from the conversation. Hesitation flowed between Vanessa and me, both unwilling or unsure of what to say.
Reluctantly, I sighed and said, “My ex-husband” at the exact moment Vanessa said, “My boyfriend.”
I ground my teeth. The fleeting look of surprise on Val’s face sent my eyes flying to the pebbled walkway. Once I dared another glance, I found inquisitive, soft brown eyes searching mine.
Then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, his features smoothed into a sugary, warm smile. Extending his arm to Vanessa, he shook her hand.