23. A work of art – Elijah
23
A WORK OF ART
ELIJAH
I can’t believe we’re leaving Triangle d’Or with only three bags. Even Sev spent more than her on his new designer jeans, crisp white shirt, fine indigo-black blazer, leather belt, and matching Derby shoes.
He looks sharp as hell and ready to blend in with the well-dressed clientele at La Tante Sophistiquée . The whole ensemble makes the tattoos around the sides of his head and down his neck look avant-garde and artistic rather than alarming.
Aurora barely scraped the surface of the black card’s limit despite my insistence that she should get whatever she wants.
“Are you sure this is enough?”
I peek into the Saint Laurent bag as I take it from her and find only a couple of simple black shirts wrapped in monogrammed paper.
“Those shirts are worth more than every article of clothing in my suitcase,” she replies with a pained look.
I try not to seem disappointed, but it’s hard. I wasn’t kidding when I said we should try to find the card’s limit. Even considering that I had the service staff at a few of the shops pack up anything she seemed interested in for me to pick up later, it still wouldn’t be even half of what I was prepared to spend.
“She’s not used to this, man,” Sev mutters to me as Aurora slips into the back seat of our hired car and thanks the footman in bad French for opening the door.
Sev is right. Every time I swiped the card, she flinched.
“It’s just money,” I mutter back.
“Not to her.”
I’m reminded that unlike me, Sev and Atticus didn’t grow up knowing wealth and privilege.
I pause on the sidewalk. “What do you mean?”
I genuinely want to understand.
Sev runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before but I’m pretty sure she thinks letting us buy this shit for her comes with strings.”
“What? No. This is me making up for being a monumental douchebag the other day. And, honestly, now it’s also to make up for the fact that you murdered that piece of shit, Jesse, right in front of her.”
He shrugs. “All I know is there’s a good chance she thinks we’re going to expect some kind of repayment. And she doesn’t strike me as the type to enjoy being indebted to anyone.”
I sag and Sev claps me on the shoulder before going to join Aurora in the car.
“We should go,” Aurora calls to me from the open door. “We’ll be late for the gallery opening.”
* * *
A urora’s face lights up the instant we enter the gallery, and watching her appreciate the art is sweeter than stealing it could ever be.
It was easy to distract her while Sev checked us in under our aliases.
And when she refused to hand my overcoat to the coat check, I was surprised at the tremor of gratification that fell down my spine.
She pulls it tighter around her shoulders. It’s big on her, but somehow she makes it look elegant paired with the dress. I can’t remember a time when a woman has worn any of my clothes, I’m not sure if any have. Atticus likes to mark his women like that—and in many other ways—but I never saw the allure.
At least not until right now.
Aurora catches me staring and cocks her head as we press farther into the space.
I blink and look away, adjusting the collar of my shirt a little too hard, making the top button pop.
Her gaze snags on the bit of exposed skin at my throat and her own bobs in response. I undo two more buttons when she looks away, earning myself a raised brow from Sev as he joins us in the main atrium to view the first piece.
We’ve only lifted art from this location once before, and that was almost four years ago now. They had no concrete suspects for the theft, so no reason to be recognized, but they have upped security since.
There are cameras in most of the corners now. And two security guards wander slowly through the exhibit, positioning themselves along the walls for several minutes at a time before moving on.
It’s a scenario I’m intimately familiar with, even if we are a little rusty.
Sev was right.
This will be easy.
“What do you think?” I ask Aurora as she takes in a landscape by Camille Corot with wide, curious eyes.
She blinks and shakes her head. “I’m not sure. I guess I don’t really know what I’m supposed to think.”
“There’s no wrong answer.”
I wait as she purses her lips, considering.
“I like it,” she says finally. “Especially the way the light hits the water.”
“It’s brilliant,” I agree.
“It’s sad, though,” she adds, her gaze narrowing.
“Why do you say that?”
“Um, I’m not sure…god, I really know nothing about art.”
She shrugs, laughing nervously as more people begin to fill the space, eager for their turn to look at the piece, but I don’t budge.
“Should we…” She points to the next piece, her eyes flicking to those waiting for us to move on.
I take her hand without thinking about it and tug her gently back. “Don’t worry about them. I want to know why you think it’s sad.”
My chest squeezes while I wait for her to look again and watch her expression shift as she feels the art. Analyzes it.
Fuck, she’s so beautiful.
And it’s not the new hair color or the pretty dress or the fact that she’s wearing my coat. It’s her. In my peripheral, Sev watches me watch Aurora with a knowing smirk and the spell breaks.
I clear my throat.
“It’s the colors, I think,” Aurora whispers finally. “They’re all a bit…gray. Muted. And the light is… cold .”
On his way past me, Sev leans in to quickly whisper, “She has the eye,” echoing the words of my father.
When he met my mother, it was in a gallery not so unlike this one. They talked of art and while looking at a piece by Vermeer, he knew she had the eye. The story goes that after they left that gallery, he never had eyes for anyone else.
Losing her was the first big blow. The start of his downfall that I only sped up. I never should have agreed to meet the demands of his double-crossing partner. I was trying to save his legacy, but I should’ve known better.
Fool me once, shame on you.
Fool me twice…
I know it’s my fault, but I’ll spend the rest of my life working to right all the wrongs it caused if I have to.
It occurs to me that this little detour is just that—a distraction from what we should truly be focusing on. I give Sev a nod that says he should begin. The sooner we’re finished here the sooner we can get home and finally find out what Atticus is planning.
Sev nods back and swivels to begin a slow, calculating walk of the collection. He’ll find the piece we’re after and probe the surrounding area for security threats and weak points.
If we do this right, Aurora won’t even know it happened.