Mismatch - By Nana Malone Page 0,44
met you at the club, I thought…I dunno…I thought you were kind of straight-laced, maybe a little uptight. I thought you were an accountant type. A hot accountant type but still. When we met at the restaurant, I had the sex symbol Samson Marks in front of me. It didn’t gel in my mind. “
Eli mulled the thought over in his head. “I’m the same guy you met on both occasions. It doesn’t change anything.”
“It changes my perception. I’m used to being the girl who doesn’t have to think about anything. I jump feet first because I know what I’m getting into. Right now, I’m not so sure. It’s disconcerting. It feels like my man meter is off.”
Doesn’t help that I’m a lying asshole. “You can be into that accountant type of guy.” Art authenticator but close enough. “You can also be into the guy you met at the restaurant. Same person.” His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he muttered a curse. It was Vince, but there was no delicate way to take the call without exposing himself.
“You gonna get that?”
Eli considered his options. “I’m sorry. Do you mind?”
“No, go ahead.”
“Yeah.” He kept his tone brusque.
“Eli, where the hell you been man? We need to talk.”
“Something came up. What’s going on?”
“Grab your gear, we’ve been called in.”
Eli sat up. “Is there a sig?”
“There may be. I need you to authenticate it. From my undistinguished eye, it’s a forgery, probably by our man. But I need my resident nerd. You coming?”
“Yeah, I’m coming. But it’ll take a minute.” When he hung up, Jessica looked at him expectantly.
“I guess show and tell time is over?” She gave him a rueful smile.
“Yeah I have to go. I’m sorry.” Then, feeling like taking a risk, he said, “So given that we can’t seem to stay away from each other, how about we have an actual date? For real this time.”
Jessica bit her bottom lip. “I’m not sure that’s the best idea.”
“You really want to keep fighting this?”
Jessica sighed. “Not like I could continue fighting even if I wanted to. I know what I want. But your career stuff comes first. I need Samson the artist more than I need Eli the man. Can you live with that? This gallery is my life. I’ve got everything tied up in it.”
That stung. But Eli hoped when this was over she could have both.
Chapter 12
Eli pulled up to the curb and eyed the stately Tudor style mansion. As he strode to the front door, he noted the gnomes on the AstroTurf grass in the yard. “I guess being rich doesn’t mean you have taste,” he mumbled to himself.
Ducking under the yellow tape, he followed the booming sound of his partner’s voice into what looked like the living room. The dark hardwood floor was dusty. He did a quick scan of the room. If this was a burglary, they might not be able to tell what was missing. On the ornate antique desk, stacks of paper and tchotchkes littered the dusty surface.
Eli stared at Vince. “You called me for a robbery scene, but how can you tell anything is missing? These folks are not exactly neat freaks.”
Vince smirked. “Tell me about it.”
“You want to tell me why I’m here right now?”
Vince nodded. “Yeah, over here.” He led him into a back office. “So the owner never would have even noticed, if his granddaughter hadn’t brushed up against the paint and noticed it was still wet.”
Eli’s blood ran cold. Another painting. His conversation with Michael Fenton was clouding his mind. But he couldn’t ignore the fact that Fenton either knew his brother or was intimately acquainted with Sam’s past. If Sam did know Fenton, then this string of suspicion had just gained more substance. The doubt crept in and wormed its way insidiously into his heart. He wanted to believe in his brother. Samson had had enough to deal with over the years and wouldn’t endanger his recovery. But you’ve been here before. Eli’s heart stuttered.
In the best circumstances, his brother was charming and engaging and people wanted to be around him. At his worst, that charm turned into expert level lying and manipulation. And sure, people wanted to be around him, but he attracted the wrong type of people. It had taken Eli five years to get his brother back, and the thought of losing him again made Eli ill.
In the center of the office, a Thomas Kane painting of a 60’s mod girl in tribute to