Page 55 of Blown

Rafe blinked fully out of his thoughts and turned to Jake. “You’re telling me all our hard work has been rubbish and we could do better?” he asked. “Now?”

There was enough of a twinkle in Rafe’s eyes for Jake to tell he was partially teasing. That in itself was the best sign that things would be okay that he’d had so far.

“I think we could get much better,” he said, grinning in return. “We’ve only just begun to figure out how we work together. I think there’s plenty of room for us to grow and meld our skills.”

Rafe’s mouth twitched like he would smile. More importantly, his gaze dropped to Jake’s lips. “Is that so?”

The mood suddenly shifted. Excitement of a different sort entirely pulsed through Jake. He sidled closer to Rafe and slipped his arms around him. “I definitely think that’s so.”

Rafe hummed, then cupped the side of Jake’s face and leaned in for a kiss. It was the last thing they should have been doing when they had plans to run to Paris and defend their intellectual property, but neither of them could help themselves. Sometimes when the world turned upside down and things became intense, you needed a moment of passion to remind yourself what really mattered.

They were interrupted by Rafe’s phone ringing. Kissing was forgotten as Rafe rushed to take his phone out. He stared at the screen in confusion for a moment before answering it with a puzzled, “Hello?”

Jake’s nerves frayed as Rafe looked at him, his eyes widening a bit.

“Yes, they are the same pieces Nally was telling you about,” Rafe went on. He was silent for another moment, his eyes growing wider, then he stopped whoever was on the other end of the call to say, “Hold on a moment. I have Jake Mathers here with me. We worked on the pieces together. Let me put you on speaker so you can tell him, too.”

They stepped farther into the corner of the room, and Rafe tapped his phone to put it on speaker.

“Alright, go ahead,” Rafe said.

“Hey, Jake, it’s Todd Renfield,” the tinny voice on the other end of the call said, though he didn’t sound particularly pleased.

“Hey, Todd,” Jake answered, his gut tightening. Todd Renfield was one of the other artists who had been at Corning while Jake and Rafe had been in residence. He was British, but Jake hadn’t dared approach him with his marriage scheme. It sounded like he knew Nally as well.

“I was just telling Rafe that Hélène Rénard is a nasty piece of work and that she steals concepts from up-and-coming artists all the time and passes them off as her own. Her last three collections can actually be traced back to students at home and abroad. Some of them even did the work for her. I’m not sure she’s produced an original piece herself for years now.”

“I knew it,” Jake said. “She’s a liar and a cheat.”

“Like knows like, right,” Todd said sharply, causing Jake to color.

“Never mind all that now,” Rafe said, frowning at the phone. “The important thing is that she’s done this before.”

Todd laughed bitterly. “This isallshe does. The woman couldn’t come up with an original idea if her life depended on it. It probably does. That’s why she’s such a crafty thief. She stolemy entire Fragile Forest collection two years ago and passed it off as her own.”

Rafe sucked in a breath. “That was your work?”

“Every drop of it,” Todd said. “And now, when I so much as whisper about what she’d done, she turns around and discredits me. I’ve lost three jobs in the last two years because of her malicious lying. My reputation is shattered when really, hers should be.”

“And there’s been nothing you can do to prove she stole your work?” Rafe asked.

Todd sighed. “I trusted her. I didn’t have anything documented. She knew I wouldn’t have a credible way to prove she stole from me. She’s picky when it comes to who she steals from. Picky and clever. That’s why she’s able to keep doing this without being caught.”

“Keep doing this?” Jake asked.

“There’s an entire group of us who suspect or know outright that she’s taken our designs and concepts,” Todd said.

“If there’s a whole group, shouldn’t you be able to come forward together and do something?” Rafe asked.

“Not against someone with Hélène Rénard’s power,” Todd said. “It takes a lot more than a few less experienced artists to bring down someone as influential as Hélène.”

It was the truth. It made Jake wonder if there was any point in going to Paris at all. He’d seen the same thing a dozen times in other industries, Hollywood, the literary world, everywhere. It was nearly impossible to bring someone that big down unless they were caught in the act or had some other kind of gross misconduct to tarnish their image. Even then, people were so invested in their heroes’ images that they would do mental gymnastics to excuse even the worst behavior.

“We’re about to leave for Paris to confront Hélène directly,” Jake said, glancing at Rafe and trying to gauge how he wasfeeling about things. “We can keep you in the loop and let you know what she says and does.”

“I definitely want to stay involved in this,” Todd said. “I’ll try to work on things from my end, too. It’s about time we all banded together to put a stop to this shit.”

They said their goodbyes and Rafe hung up. He continued to stare at the phone for a few seconds, his brow creased in thought.

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