“Carl Fairchild,” my father said, extending his hand. “If your appraiser missed the signature, I do hope you found another before he got too far.”
Mr. Belrose took his hand. “That's why I hired you. According to the head of the Society of Appraisers, you are the best at what you do. You and your staff come highly recommended.”
My father's chest puffed out slightly in pride. “Thank you, sir. I'd like to think that we are.” He wrapped a heavy arm over my shoulder. “My daughter here is certainly the best art appraiser I've ever met.”
Mr. Belrose's blue-gray eyes went to mine again, entangling me in their smoky depths. I couldn't help but wonder what he thought of me. I was just glad that he wasn't bringing up last night. I glanced at my father, but Mr. Belrose gave me just the slightest of head shakes. I nodded. As far as anyone else was concerned, last night didn't happen. I didn't want my father to know, and he didn't want Charlotte to know.
“It is a pleasure to meet you both,” Mr. Belrose said, breaking off his gaze and looking at my father instead. “If either of you need anything, please let Charlotte know.”
I wished I wasn't blushing so hard. I wished I had been more polite about dismissing the signature on the piece. I wished I hadn't tried to tackle him, though at least now we had a shared secret. I wished I had been able to brush my teeth after breakfast before standing in front of Mr. Belrose with coffee breath.
Unfortunately, there wasn't much I could do about any of those things at this point.
Mr. Belrose evaluated both of us for a moment, his gray eyes taking in every detail and filing it away. My stomach churned, wondering what he must think of the unkempt, flippant girl in front of him. I wanted to melt into the floor. He turned to leave, stopping to speak with Charlotte as he crossed the tiled floor.
“Miss Page, please remind them about the study,” he said softly to his assistant. It was just loud enough for me to make out the words. I had a feeling that wasn't a mistake. The man didn't seem capable of making a mistake.
“Don't worry, boss,” she told him with a grin. “Now, get going or you'll be late for your meeting.”
He nodded and continued his walk to the front door. Without another word, he opened it and stepped outside, leaving me staring after him and trying to figure him out.
He had this fancy, over-the-top house that he was selling for some reason. No one had said why yet, and since it really wasn't any of my business, I hadn't asked. Yet, the kitchen didn't match and he had a secret study that no one was allowed in. The man was the CEO of a billion dollar company, but he paddle-boarded out on the ocean by himself every morning, and didn't want his assistant to know he had broken a board he could obviously afford.
He intrigued me. There was something about him that made me want to know more, something about the way he held himself and the self confidence he radiated that made me curious about him. I shook my head. He was a mystery, but one that I knew I should stay away from. He was a billionaire and way out of my league.
“Interesting fellow, your boss,” my father said after the door closed. I couldn't help but agree.
“That he is,” Charlotte replied, putting on a fresh smile. “But, you just impressed him.”
“Impressed him?” I nearly laughed. “I just devalued a possible Alexander Roux.”
Charlotte chuckled. “And you think he didn't know that? Why do you think it's sitting out here as the first thing you would see? It was a test and you passed with flying colors.”
I opened my mouth and then closed it. It was a clever tactic, and one that had worked incredibly well. If he wanted to make sure we were going to do the appraisal correctly, putting the false signature was a good way to test our skills. I smiled slightly, suddenly proud that I had passed a test I didn't know I was taking.
“Well, well. I guess that's why he's the billionaire,” Dad mused. He turned to me. “We better get working, kiddo. There's a lot to do.”
I looked around at the big house, stopping at the door Mr. Belrose had just left out of. “Yes, we do,” I murmured, but my mind wasn't paying attention to my father anymore. It was thinking of Sebastian Belrose and how I couldn't quite put him together.
He was a puzzle, but one I wasn't worthy of solving.
So, I smiled at my father and headed into my room to solve the puzzles that I knew I could solve. Time to appraise some art.
Chapter 7
The room I was starting in was huge, as was everything in the mansion. Three immense paintings dominated the walls surrounded by smaller ones scattered tastefully to complement the larger. It reminded me of an art museum rather than a house, but then I had only ever been in art museums this big, not houses.
The room had one window, and if I had been the interior decorator, I would have focused my attention on the view rather than the art. While the art was beautiful, the seascape out the window was more dynamic. Sheer curtains floated over the big window, and I was glad to note that a special film had been placed on it to block the UV light. At least whomever had set up this room had designed it to hold the artwork.
I stood for a moment at the window, watching the waves break against the shore and sea birds fly through the air. It reminded me of this morning's sunrise and that made me smile and wonder what Mr. Belrose was up to. I couldn't see him out on the water, which meant that he must have had his meeting.
“Why aren't you working?” Mr. Belrose's deep voice asked, distracting me from my thoughts. I turned around, startled, to see him standing in the open doorway. All the joy on his face from this morning was long gone.
“I was just getting started,” I stammered, going to a table in the center of the room to lay out my supplies. I flushed, knowing I had only been standing at the window for a couple of minutes, but from his viewpoint it must have looked like I was doing nothing at all.
“I'm not paying you to stand around,” he growled. I nearly dropped my tablet on the floor, but managed to catch it in the nick of time. He glared at me. “There are deadlines for a reason. If I wanted someone to stand and look pretty, I'd hire a model.”
My face flamed to an even higher degree. I wondered if Elijah had remembered to feed him breakfast.
“Didn't you have a meeting?” I asked. All I wanted to do was snap at him to go take a long walk off a short cliff, but I didn't. He was my employer.
“It was canceled. Are you going to work or what?” He glared at me, daring me to sass back. But, I was a professional, despite the fact that I had enjoyed looking out the window. So instead of saying something I knew I'd regret, I put on my biggest smile and looked up at him.