Chapter 13
thirteen
AMANTHA
Blood pounded between my temples, foggy from champagne.
Do I tell someone?
The Vanderbilt hall spun, still crawling with lingering guests.
Should I tell security?
The hem of my long gown tripped me. Val materialized out of nowhere, catching my elbow. All I could register were his worried, inquisitive eyes.
“Are you okay, Adams?” He scanned the room, seeming to look for someone. Either Val was obnoxiously shaking my arm, or I was trembling. His face swam back into view.
“Do you need me to call someone?”
I pointed at the painting. “It’s not… Felix didn’t…” My breath escaped in tight wheezes. “It’s fake.”
The whites in Val’s eyes pulled to mine. “What? That’s absurd! There’s zero chance that’s possible.”
Anger forced oxygen into my lungs on a steely breath.
“It’s forged, Val,” I hissed, gesturing at the painting. “This isn’t Felix’s real work.”
Val’s eyes darted toward the press. “Shhh! If the press hears you…”
“Val! Why aren’t you panicking?! Someone must have taken—”
His strong hand clamped down on my wrist before he had the audacity to drag me away. Trying not to trip again on my stupid dress, I snatched a fistful of red silk.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Not here,” Val growled.
Stopping outside Rick’s mysterious storage closet, Val swiped his keycard and pushed me inside. I plunged into darkness.
“What are you doing?” I demanded.
Val didn’t respond, only followed me in and yanked the door shut.
Blackness wrapped around the two of us, and I instinctively shuffled backward, blindly bumping into a storage cabinet.
The familiar scent of him permeated the tight space, fresh and spicy.
Heavy breathing originated somewhere a few feet from me.
My breath caught as hot skin brushed my bare arm, soft as a whisper.
Not even a second later, light flared from an overhead bulb.
I blinked. Val was mere inches from my body. His muscular arm hung suspended beside me, fingers still resting on the light switch. Val slowly withdrew his arm, though he didn’t step away.
My breath hitched as I locked onto his steady gaze. His dark eyes seemed to smolder with an expression I didn’t recognize. Curiosity? Regret? Val tugged the collar of his tuxedo.
My head still spun, my body still shook. The most precious—in my opinion—piece of art in the entire world had been stolen and replaced with a forgery. Alarms screamed in the back of my mind. The front of my mind, however, was entirely preoccupied.
I couldn’t ignore how my body was reacting to Val’s. My hammering heart had risen to my throat. The heat radiating from him caused a strange swooping sensation in my stomach. Anticipation of something tingled in my fingers.
Tearing my gaze from his, I ducked my head and swept an errant curl behind my ear.
Val stepped back, though he didn’t stray from my face. “What made you think… I mean, how could you tell…”
How had I never noticed the gold flecks in his chocolate eyes? Like liquid sunshine fanning through rich, chestnut irises. The array was mesmerizing.
“I noticed the… the lily. And the dock,” I said.
Val tamped his eyelids shut with a pained expression, consequently stopping my exploration of them. They stayed irritatingly closed as he murmured, “What about them?”
I found myself taking a step closer. Val’s eyelids taunted me, hiding the golden flecks I suddenly wanted to count.
I searched his face, looking for an answer to a question I couldn’t quite remember asking.
“They weren’t right,” I whispered.
Val’s eyes opened into slits. If he was surprised by my closeness, he didn’t show it. He glanced at my mouth so quickly, I thought I imagined it.
“Can you explain?” His rough whisper sounded strained.
Freckles. Tiny constellations of them scattered his cheeks and nose.
“Amantha?”
My name whispered from those full lips. I struggled to remember why I had always hated it before. An urge to run my thumb across the curve of his bottom lip overwhelmed me, if only to know what it felt like.
Time froze as Val’s tentative hands slid up each of my arms, sparking a trail of electricity in their wake. He softly shook my shoulders, a soft smile teasing those equally soft lips.
“Are you alright?” His concerned words were so sweet, his touch so tender. His touch. My gut twisted.
I stumbled backward, feeling as confused as he looked. I didn’t stop until my back pressed against the cabinet again. His touch felt wrong. Why did it feel wrong?
An unwelcome image of Ryan flashed through my mind as fear and trepidation consumed me. I fixated my stare on my murderous high heels, my feet quaking.
“The…dock. There’s a loose brushstroke where it shouldn’t be,” I said, wrapping my arms around my abdomen. “And, the water lily was too bright. Stark white.” I felt like crying.
“Are you sure? How can you be so sure?”
Was that a tinge of disappointment in his voice? I peeked up as Val folded his brawny arms over his sleek black tie and leaned against an opposing cabinet.
“Val, I wrote my master’s thesis on that painting. I’ve seen the real one thousands of times at another museum. I know every square inch of it.”
I just want to go home.
“I’m sure I could ask Blythe if we could check—”
“No,” Val said.
“What?”
“No one can know about this.”
My gaze cut to his. “Why, Val?” A hard edge crept into my voice. “Why keep this quiet?”
What are you trying to hide?
Arrogance puffed his chest. “Museums have gone under because of scandals like this. If this got out to the public, or the press… Well, it would be extremely hard to recover from. Donors would pull out, we’d spend a fortune on damage control, and staff members would lose their jobs. We could lose our jobs.”
A wave of trepidation washed over me. I couldn’t lose this job. I needed it for Anthony. To avoid Ryan making another play for custody. But we were talking about crimes, here. Wasn’t I morally obligated to right this wrong?
“So let’s tell management, then,” I said.
“If there’s any chance that painting is a forgery, then someone had to have put it there.
” Val rubbed his jaw in exasperation. “The museum’s vetting and authentication process is intense.
It’s not like some idiot strolled in and hung up a fake one.
Attersee has been locked away for a long time.
If that isn’t Felix’s work, then even management could have helped put it there. We can’t trust anyone.”
“Well we have to do something, Val! We can’t ignore this. Something criminal is going on,” I said hotly.
“First off, we don’t know for sure. I have an independent authentication expert who can be here first thing in the morning. There are a couple tests he can run to authenticate it without moving the painting.”
I wasn’t even close to satisfied. “Val, this is insane! We need to tell—”
“We can’t!” Aggravated, Val pushed off his cabinet toward me.
I pushed off mine as well. “So we have to become Sherlock and Watson and solve this ourselves? We’ll kill each other!”
“Trust me. I’m not so thrilled either.”
I glared up at the man towering over me.
How in the world was there still space in my seething brain for attraction? I clenched my fists to stop myself—either from punching his handsome face or satiating my need to fully explore his bottom lip. Both options seemed equally delicious.
Val gritted his teeth. “Promise me you’ll keep this between us, at least for tonight. Give me the night to think. I don’t know about you, but I’d like to keep my job. Besides, we don’t even know if it’s forged.”
“It is.”
A muscle feathered in his jaw as he stared down at me. “Well, we’ll find out tomorrow, won’t we?" His mouth twisted into a frown, though I could have sworn a flicker of nerves passed through his eyes. “I guess if we met for dinner tomorrow night, that would give us time to talk.”
A humorless laugh burst from my mouth. “Dinner with you? In public? Absolutely not.”
“Fine then.” Val stalked to the door, grasping the silver doorknob. He barely spared me a glance as he rattled off, “Lincoln City Park, tomorrow at four. Meet me by the Eli Bates Fountain.” Then he swept out the door and was gone.