Chapter 7 #2
At the top floor, the lobby of Miracles by Fairfax feels normal enough. It’s a large space with a frontline gallery where collectors with big pockets can shop exquisite, beautiful collections of rare pieces.
The nice, well-put-together lady ushers us straight through to the back as soon as we give her our names, and now we’re entering the inner sanctum.
No wait. A good sign he means business.
Real, actual, oh my God, I might make a fortune business.
“We have the papers, too, yes?” I whisper to Holden.
“Yes.” A muscle in his jaw twitches.
It’s a stupid question. I know it’s stupid when I’m asking a man who has order in his blood. He’s been doing this bodyguard thing longer than I’ve been alive—slight exaggeration, probably, but whatever.
I just can’t get a grip on my nerves. My stomach churns, flipping over with an intensity that makes me gag.
The grand glass French doors in front of us open and I’m breathless.
Amazing.
The office looks like a cross between an old-world library and a high-tech lab. He has heavy curtains drawn that look like they were stolen from a castle. His desk is heavy, dark wood with intricate scrolls carved into it.
Straight out of a museum, if not a palace. I bet he had it shipped over from Europe, maybe the UK.
Off to the side, through a window in the wall, I see rows of brushed steel tables with technicians in white coats. They’re huddled over their latest acquisitions in face masks and goggles, using strange metal instruments to analyze the smallest details.
The natural white light above melts into the soft, cold glow of computer screens around their stations.
“Miss Blackthorn!” A man strides forward from the chaos of the lab.
He’s tall with greying hair brushed back neatly and a Clark Gable mustache.
He legit looks a little like he just stepped out of a black-and-white movie. Impeccably dressed, with a soft, cultured accent.
High class, Dad would call him with a sneer.
Born to privilege and ready to do anything to keep his grip on it. Good thing I never let my father’s bitterness turn me into a judgmental psycho.
“Hi.” I hold out my hand, hoping that’s the right call. No one tells you much etiquette when you’re meeting a world-class art expert. “It’s great to meet you, Mr. Fairfax. This is my security head, Holden Verity.”
Fairfax gives him a quick once-over, having to look up to meet Holden’s steely gaze.
“Of course. Security,” he says lightly, turning back to me. “Very sensible. Come, please make yourselves at home.”
Holden’s nostrils flare at being dismissed, but I put my hand on his arm, silently begging him to play nice.
We can’t afford to piss this guy off if we want a quick end to this.
Holden looks at my hand, then at me.
I drop it, but I’m glad he stays quiet as we head to the grand desk where Fairfax swings into his tall leather chair.
It’s so imposing it feels a little out of place. He’s cleared a space for us and he wakes his computer screen.
“Now,” Jasper says brightly, “kindly tell me a little more about the surprise you’ve brought.”
With a heavy look, I nod at Holden.
I don’t breathe as he lays the suitcase on the desk and slides it across to me. Unexpectedly trusting. I figured he wouldn’t take his hand off that briefcase for a second. He pulls the key out and unlocks it.
But it’s my inheritance, after all. And he’s very good at his job.
“I’d like to present a lost treasure from a master understudy of the House of Fabergé.
” A little dramatic, maybe, but so what?
I unclip the lid of the suitcase and flip it open, twisting it around to show Fairfax.
“The world knows it as the Hera Egg, I believe. My grandfather, Leonidas Blackthorn, left it to me when he died. Total shocker. Nobody knew he had it.”
“I’ll say,” Fairfax whispers with a hint of amusement.
He remains stock-still, his eyes assessing. They bounce from the egg to my face and back to the gleaming jeweled wonder again.
Secured inside the velvet suitcase, it looks more impressive than ever, blue stripes and diamonds rippling like the sea. I’m not surprised Fairfax goes speechless.
“You promised me a surprise, Miss Blackthorn, and you’ve delivered. You’ve outdone yourself,” he says quietly, never taking his eyes off the egg. “My God, if this is genuine… you’ve got something sensational on your hands!”
“I do, I guess.” And I do my best to make sure my voice doesn’t crack despite the hit of adrenaline storming my blood. I feel like I might just crumble. “So, um, right now, I’m just looking for a little confirmation. We need to know if it’s genuine. It’s early days.”
I smile tightly.
“And if it is, a sale?” His tone turns hopeful.
“Probably. I have to admit I’m not set up to keep something this amazing long-term.”
“I understand. May I have a closer look?”
I nod as he pulls on a pair of gloves from a box under his desk. Then he removes the egg reverently and stands.
He walks to a nearby table against the wall with a few machines that look like something you’d find during an eye exam. He sets it up there and powers on the device.
A bright-blue light flares—maybe some sort of laser microscope?—and I hear a faint whir as this powerful magnifying glass clicks, hovering over it.
Fairfax steps out the side door to the lab and returns a second later with a skinny, clean-shaven young man.
“Miss Blackthorn, this is Steven, my most trusted senior technician and also my son.” He turns to him. “Steven, we have a potential godsend on our hands. The legendary Hera Egg.”
“The Hera— Dad, for real?” Steven blinks in disbelief before his eyes swivel to the egg. “Man, let me see.”
Beside me, I feel Holden bristle, watching their every movement like an eagle.
Dad’s doubts and venom come back to me as they mutter back and forth, examining the egg under that monster of a microscope for what feels like an hour.
What if this is some weird, sick game?
What if it’s a forgery?
But no, Gramps wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t.
He might be eccentric and a little heavy-handed, but he never gave my cousins false hope or left them empty-handed. There was always a method to his inheritance madness.
I’m sure it’s the same for me.
I’m so up in my head I’m startled when Holden’s big hand takes mine. I swallow a gasp and glance over.
His brown eyes blaze.
It’s easy to forget he’s a master at reading body language. He must see the agony on my face, the fear, the doubt, and he’s decided to do something about it.
He squeezes my hand fiercely, silently, as if to say, Nile, hold the line. I’m here, and you’ve fucking got this.
I shiver.
Meanwhile, the father-son duo powers on, inspecting the object in total detail.
“May we take it back to the lab for a quick scan, ma’am? We have a machine, very similar to an MRI. We’ll be able to see the entire structure.” Steven waits patiently.
“Sure. Go right ahead.” I nod.
Smiling, he puts the egg in a fabric-lined box and carries it to the lab with his father. They’re back about five minutes later.
I swallow thickly.
God, what if it is a hoax?
I’ll never live it down.
Not a hoax by Gramps, not deliberately. But if it turns out he’s been sitting on a scam all these years, I swear…
Ugh, I’ll also have to figure something out. Even the generous trust he left behind will run through my fingers like water in a few years with Boston rent.
My heart clenches at the thought.
Across the table, Fairfax murmurs sharply to his son in a way that makes me nervous.
I can’t take much more. Another five minutes and I’m going to barf.
Jasper Fairfax looks at me and smiles, then places the egg back in the box. He reaches for the stack of papers we left neatly on his desk, leafing through them and reading while Steven returns to the lab.
I’m so not cut out for this.
The papers might be just as important as the physical inspection. If they’re off, if there’s any hint of fraud, we’re cooked.
And it’s going to be awful if I lose it and break down into a crying fit in here, in front of this stranger and Holden Hardass.
I grit my teeth together and swallow.
Holden looks at me carefully.
The rest of the world dissolves into a blur. I notice the way he frowns, his mouth turned down at the corners.
He’s probably expecting an outburst like the annoying mind reader he is.
Only, he hasn’t let go of my hand. He squeezes my palm like he knows the sharpness will help break the trance.
His knuckles brush my thigh, which I realize is trembling.
I’m as jittery as a squirrel on her seventh coffee. Embarrassing.
I look at him sheepishly, and he shoots me another look.
We’re done, he mouths.
Right, right.
I’m secretly relieved he doesn’t let go until I take a deep, halting breath and exhale slowly. I close my eyes for a few seconds, pulling myself back together.
My shoulders fall. My leg stops bouncing in place.
Only then does he give me one last squeeze and let go.
When I open my eyes, I can still feel his stern fingers against my skin.
The heat of his knuckles against my thighs.
How does he make me so warm?
Again, I shiver for a reason that has nothing to do with fear.
Not something I ever expected with this man. Definitely not a sensation I expected to linger.
“Right,” Fairfax says bluntly, breaking the killing tension.
He sits back in his chair across from us and steeples his fingers.
“Right,” I echo.
“Your case looks hopeful, Miss Blackthorn, I’m pleased to say.
We have good reason to investigate further.
I’ll have to do some more referencing and verification with my contacts, of course,” he says, holding up a finger.
“However, at first glance, this jeweled egg is exceptional. There’s truly no precedent. ”
The air leaves my lungs.
“Wow. Okay. So what’s next?”
“If we can determine complete authenticity with high confidence, it will certainly command a pretty penny.” His smile almost looks smug. “Luckily, you came to the right place. My thanks to you for trusting my firm with the appraisal.”
Holden stiffens beside me. He’s probably just excited.
I can imagine what a find like this means for anyone whose whole universe revolves around breathtaking treasures.
“The right place, huh?” Holden prods.
“Certainly. I’ve staked my thirty-year career on taking risks with art, Mr. Verity,” Fairfax says. “The biggest rewards are always worth it.”
“Like this one?” I nod at the egg. “You think this is worth the gamble?”
“Absolutely.”
Holden leans back in his chair, visibly at ease, but I can sense a guarded tightness around him. I’ve felt it before when I was younger.
There’s a lot a person can hide in their smile, and for Holden, it’s rare. The pained curl of his lips he beams at Fairfax looks more like a war face.
A threat. A warning.
“Tell me more about the risks associated with this sort of artifact,” Holden says with a bite to his words. “Do these sales happen quickly?”
Jasper spreads his arms, welcoming.
“I’m an open book. You can look up all my acquisitions and see how successful they’ve been.
Not all of them were dramatic wins commanding top dollar, of course, but that’s to be expected.
So much depends on the market, and sometimes you can’t predict it.
Same for how fast it takes to move it or put together an auction. ” He shrugs.
“Can you guarantee a quick sale?” Another cutting look.
Oof. Holden Hardass isn’t playing today.
“Nothing in this world is guaranteed, Mr. Verity. But I will promise my best effort and a large pool of vetted buyers.”
“Vetted?” Holden’s smile drops, and his voice sharpens. “And what happens if this all goes wrong or you’re mistaken? Do you have a list of people I can reach for testimonials?”
Too aggressive!
I kick him under the desk.
“Of course,” Jasper Fairfax says smoothly. “I’ll be sure to email them once we finish here.”
“We’ve done our homework, just like you’d expect.
How about your Russian contacts? How have your dealings there gone?
Any comment on Mr. Baranov?” I don’t know the name he rattles off.
It sounds Russian. “They found him dead on the streets of Minsk from a mafia hit on a business trip. Same year he bought a large collection of old Orthodox church paintings from you.”
“Oh my God, Holden,” I hiss.
I kick him again, banging the leg of the desk.
Fairfax’s smile tightens, but he looks at me, sensing what’s happening.
“Mr. Verity, I appreciate your strict attention to security concerns. I’d expect nothing less from the granddaughter of Leonidas Blackthorn.
” He smiles warmly. “Alas, I understand your worries regarding a find this valuable. I’m not asking for any big commitments right now.
Just time. Since we’ve come this far, will you please consider giving me that?
” He levels a heavy look at us. “I assure you both you’ll hear from me tomorrow. ”
“Of course,” I cut in, before my guard dog starts barking again. “Thanks so much for your time, Mr. Fairfax.”
With one last smile for the dealer, I stand, shake his hand, and stride back to the elevator, letting Holden collect the egg in its suitcase.
My hands are shaking.
My whole body feels like I just spent two hours on a rickety train ride, lagged out and stressed.
Screw it, I need some fresh air. I ignore the elevator for the stairs.
“Cleo!” he bellows behind me.
The arrogance.
Why the actual hell does he think I want to speak to him after his crappy attitude nearly blew it?
It was going so well, too.
Just stupid.
Doesn’t he want to ditch the egg so he can be free of me? Obviously, he doesn’t want to do this.
And the feeling’s mutual.
I’m pounding through the lobby, rushing out to the sidewalk, not paying attention to the ground, which suddenly feels uneven.
Pain.
A sharp bite rips through my ankle.
I pitch forward and go down hard.
My hands scrape the asphalt with a bone-shaking impact.
“Cleopatra!”
He’s behind me again. Just in time to watch me make a total ass of myself. Just awesome.
Mad, shameful tears fog my eyes when I scramble up to sit and see my broken heel.
Holy hell, bad omen.
Bad day.
Bad man, rushing to peel me up off the pavement, ignoring me when I slap at his arm.
“Get off me!” I bite off weakly.
He doesn’t.
Not until I’m standing again and steady under his big arms.
I hate that he helps.
I hate it even more when he hesitates to turn me loose.
“Let’s get out of here,” he mutters, already punching in a text for the valet who parked the car.
The car pulls up a minute or two later and Holden jerks the passenger door open for me. His eyes linger on me the whole time as I climb in, rattled and ego-crushed.
I don’t dare look at him the whole way back to the penthouse.