Page 54 of This Bitter Sweet Temptation
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?”
