Page 57 of This Bitter Sweet Temptation
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.
