Page 49 of Fresh Canvas
“They weren’t right,” I whispered.
Val’s eyes opened into slits. If he was surprised by my closeness, he didn’t show it. He glanced at my mouth so quickly, I thought I imagined it.
“Can you explain?” His rough whisper sounded strained.
Freckles.Tiny constellations of them scattered his cheeks and nose.
“Amantha?”
My name whispered from those full lips. I struggled to remember why I had always hated it before. An urge to run my thumb across the curve of his bottom lip overwhelmed me, if only to know what itfeltlike.
Time froze as Val’s tentative hands slid up each of my arms, sparking a trail of electricity in their wake. He softly shook my shoulders, a soft smile teasing those equally soft lips.
“Are you alright?” His concerned words were so sweet, his touch so tender.His touch.My gut twisted.
I stumbled backward, feeling as confused as he looked. I didn’t stop until my back pressed against the cabinet again. His touch felt wrong.Whydid it feel wrong?
An unwelcome image of Ryan flashed through my mind asfear and trepidation consumed me. I fixated my stare on my murderous high heels, my feet quaking.
“The…dock. There’s a loose brushstroke where it shouldn’t be,” I said, wrapping my arms around my abdomen. “And, the water lily was too bright. Stark white.” I felt like crying.
“Are you sure? How can you be so sure?”
Was that a tinge of disappointment in his voice? I peeked up as Val folded his brawny arms over his sleek black tie and leaned against an opposing cabinet.
“Val, I wrote my master’s thesis on that painting. I’ve seen the real one thousands of times at another museum. I know every square inch of it.”
I just want to go home.
“I’m sure I could ask Blythe if we could check?—”
“No,” Val said.
“What?”
“No one can know about this.”
My gaze cut to his. “Why, Val?” A hard edge crept into my voice. “Why keep this quiet?”
What are you trying to hide?
Arrogance puffed his chest. “Museums have gone under because of scandals like this. If this got out to the public, or the press… Well, it would be extremely hard to recover from. Donors would pull out, we’d spend a fortune on damage control, and staff members would lose their jobs.Wecould lose our jobs.”
A wave of trepidation washed over me. I couldn’t lose this job. I needed it for Anthony. To avoid Ryan making another play for custody. But we were talking aboutcrimes, here. Wasn’t I morally obligated to right this wrong?
“So let’s tell management, then,” I said.
“If there’s any chance that painting is a forgery, then someone had to have put it there.” Val rubbed his jaw in exasperation. “The museum’s vetting and authentication process is intense. It’s not like some idiot strolled in and hung up a fake one. Attersee has been locked away for a long time. Ifthatisn’tFelix’s work, then even management could have helped put it there. We can’t trust anyone.”
“Well we have to dosomething, Val! We can’t ignore this. Something criminal is going on,” I said hotly.
“First off, we don’t know for sure. I have an independent authentication expert who can be here first thing in the morning. There are a couple tests he can run to authenticate it without moving the painting.”
I wasn’t even close to satisfied. “Val, this is insane! We need to tell?—”
“We can’t!” Aggravated, Val pushed off his cabinet toward me.
I pushed off mine as well. “So we have to become Sherlock and Watson and solve this ourselves? We’ll kill each other!”
