Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 131651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 658(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 658(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
“Miss Blackthorn,” he says cheerfully. “I’m pleased you’re getting back in touch so soon. You must have given it some thought?”
“I have,” I say coldly. Deep breath. “And you know what, I think I’m going to hold off for now.”
Deathly pause.
“Hold off?” His voice fades into a confused whisper.
“Yeah, unfortunately, I’m just not sure it’s the right decision yet without exploring all of my options,” I say.
“You’re turning me down?” He sounds floored, a little bitter.
Twirling my hair absently, I scan the library from the comfy chair. This is my favorite place to have these conversations. I feel like I can channel PopPop’s spirit.
Call it dumb, but I think people do leave pieces of themselves behind in the things they love, even if it’s mostly in our own minds.
Gramps always loved this room, and I loved being in here with him.
Last night, Holden was right about how stubborn he could be. And he never would’ve turned over the Hera Egg without being totally convinced it’s going to a great home.
“Is it the amount I offered? That’s not written in stone,” Fairfax says cautiously.
“It’s not just the money,” I say, trying to sort through my thoughts. “I mean, money’s a big part of it, of course. But my grandfather wanted me to find the right place for the Hera Egg. I just wonder if there’s anyone out there who’d agree to loan it out to a museum.”
“A museum?” He coughs roughly. “Well, those sorts of arrangements do exist. However, for a sale like this, you’d be dealing with a handshake agreement. Legally, that’s very hard to enforce once an art piece passes out of your possession.”
“Yeah, I figured.”
Jasper Fairfax clears his throat. “Forgive me, Miss Blackthorn. I know you don’t want to rush this, but offers like mine won’t come along easily without ironclad documentation. I have a unique appetite for risk many others in this world don’t.”
“I know.” I frown.
I wonder how disappointed he is. Is he actually seething?
Daddy issues again. I hate disappointing people or pissing them off.
“It’s your decision in the end,” he says flatly, reserved yet perfectly polite. “I wouldn’t dare interfere with that. Sensitive family matters should always be respected.”
It’s my turn to pause, surprised he’s backing off this quickly. Obviously, it’s a deal he thinks he could profit from or he wouldn’t have made a pitch.
The problem is he’s balking at any conditions that would give this treasure a second life where it could be admired by more than just the rich and powerful.
“Thank you, Mr. Fairfax. Whatever happens, I really do appreciate your generosity and help through all this.”
“If I may, a gentle word of warning...” He pauses. “I didn’t want to tell you this before and rattle you, but word gets around in this space. It’s almost inevitable when a miracle like yours surfaces. Arts and antiques have always had a nasty black market operating under the surface. The experts I reached out to, while discreet, will whisper.”
Yep.
That was always a risk with approaching anyone and revealing its existence. Word gets out. If there’s anything you can count on with people involved, it’s drama.
“I’ll be careful,” I say firmly.
“Please do. I couldn’t stomach hearing that an artifact this wonderful was lost a second time,” he says grimly. “And if you need anything else, if you ever reconsider, please feel free to call. I’ll always be at your service.”
“Thanks,” I whisper, surprisingly touched.
He’s a decent man. Or I’m a very naïve girl.
After turning him down, I expected him to slam the door in my face.
His warm open door almost makes me feel bad. But maybe that’s part of his negotiating tactics, especially if he thinks he’s dealing with a fickle little girl.
“I appreciate your concern,” I say. “If anything comes up, I’ll reach out.”
“Of course. Take care now.”
I end the call, mulling it over as I leave the library.
He sounded genuine about the threat, but I’m not too worried. That’s why Gramps left me Holden, right?
Besides, so what if there are ‘whispers?’
It’s not like someone would be crazy enough to break into the house to get it. No one knows we’re here besides immediate family.
I find Holden outside on a balcony, staring out over the rocky shore. For once, he’s not on high alert, leaning against the railing, the muscles defined in his broad back as he holds a phone to his ear.
For an embarrassingly long moment, I just stare.
He looks so relaxed.
The pale sun hits his dark hair just right, bringing out the rare coppery tone. I trace the sliver of his face that’s visible.
The way the light makes his bronze skin glow makes me ache.
It’s hard to believe he’s real.
Lethally handsome in looks and talent. Ready to drop a man as easily as he could drop a woman to the floor.
Then he laughs, and my big scary warrior-man vanishes.