The adjuster, being an art expert, looked down at me as if to ask, “Is this some kind of joke?” “This a fake,” he said in a cool, calm tone.
“Hell,” I spat.
I crouched and peeled off the top canvas, only to discover that the rest were also fakes. I couldn’t believe the forger had opted for such cheap acrylic paint. But given it dried quickly, I imagined it was the expedient choice.
When I got to the painting at the bottom of the pile, I discovered that Florian had left one original, which he’d cunningly laid on the top.
“That looks legitimate,” the adjuster said.
I could barely talk. “Can you please value that one? Excuse me one moment.”
I headed into the bathroom. My knees smacked onto the cold, hard tiles, and I vomited into the toilet.
After I gargled some water and cleaned myself up, I went back out.
“Are you okay?” he asked, studying me closely through his spectacles.
“It’s come as a shock.”
“I bet it has. This is a potential crime scene. Were you expecting to get away with this?”
My brow contracted so tightly that I felt a headache coming on. “Of course not. A crime’s been committed but not by me or Lachlan Peace. Florian Storm’s the person behind this.”
“He’s a respected dealer.” He looked down at his pad. “Market value for the original?”
“Yes.” I could barely speak.
“Eighty or a hundred million, I’d estimate. Although considering you have fakes here… I’m not sure whether the company will risk it.”
“I need to call the police,” I said, my head spinning. That he’d refused to underwrite a policy barely registered.
“Anyway, leave this to me.” He snapped his notepad shut. “I’ll be in touch. We can probably do something but with a substantial excess.”
I nodded slowly.
After I walked him to the elevator, I slumped onto the sofa, biting my nails, and waited for Lachlan to arrive.
Ten minutes later, Lachlan waltzed in, looking gorgeous in a breezy green shirt hanging over jeans that hugged his athletic body so teasingly that I wished I could forget that past hour and have him turn me roughly to the wall, teeth on my neck, and fuck me hard.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he said.
I let him hold me, and my spirit relaxed enough to break the heart-shattering news.
After I broke away, he studied me, and a line formed between his eyebrows. “What’s the matter? You don’t look well.”
“Sit down for a moment.”
He went over to the crystal decanter and lifted it. “It sounds like I need a drink. Do you want one?”
I nodded.
He made the drinks and passed me a glass. “Okay. Let me have it.”
After I explained what had happened, Lachlan looked as though an asteroid were about to hit LA.
“What the fuck?”
He rushed into the room with the paintings, and I followed.