Page 47 of My Ex's Best Friend

“Unless I was given the wrong address—no,” I say. “Mr. Richards is just that rich.”

“Well, he definitely has impeccable taste,” she says as she spins on her heel, taking it all in. “And to think you almost didn’t bring me with you.”

“I just thought—”

She makes a sound from the back of her throat.

“What?”

Her eyes light up as she spots a particular artwork, and she practically sprints toward it, her excitement palpable.

"Jake, you've got to see this! It's a Brugghen – a genuine one," she exclaims, her voice a mix of awe and excitement.

“It’s great.”

"Not just great. Look at the brushwork, the use of color—it's incredible!" she says. “It must have cost him half a hand.”

“Not my hand, but I’m definitely short a few million,” says a voice.

We turn around to see that an older gentleman has joined us. His silver hair, neatly combed, frames a face adorned with a well-groomed beard.

“Mr. Richards,” I greet. “We were just—"

"Ah, 'The Concert’," he remarks, a twinkle in his eye, totally ignoring me. "It's my favorite too. Seems like I'm not the only one who appreciates it."

Kiera, momentarily taken aback, recovers with a warm smile. "It's a masterpiece, truly. Brugghen's technique and use of light are simply extraordinary."

Mr. Richard nods, his monocle catching the light. "Well said, my dear. You've got an eye for art. Not many in the younger generation appreciate the classics these days."

“It would be a shame to ignore Brugghen’s brilliance. He was a misunderstood artist, well before his time.”

“Aren’t most artists cursed to be the same?” Richards asks, to which Kiera gives a pensive nod.

“It’s a tragedy.”

“A shame really.”

I extend a hand toward Mr. Richards, offering a polite introduction. "I'm Jacob, the owner of Bennett Art Restoration. Pleasure to meet you."

He eyes me skeptically. "Art restoration, you say? There are plenty of those these days. What makes yours stand out?"

I’m at a loss for words.

“I had an appointment with you today,” I say. “I was told to drop by.”

“My secretary must have made the appointment,” he says.

I frown. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”

At that moment, Kiera jumps in. “Do you have any more Brugghen? I’ve never actually seen one in person before.”

She turns to me with a glare.

I stare back at her. I’m not the problem here, he is.

“Ah, a connoisseur who appreciates variety. Follow me, young lady. I do have another Brugghen piece that might capture your interest."

To my surprise, Kiera leans in and says, “Come on. What are you doing?”

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