Page 52 of Fresh Canvas
“Well, my authentication colleague should text me any minute now. He and Rick should be finishing up soon.”
“What?! You told Rick about the painting?” I whirled on him.
“No! I said Attersee was being appraised for an independent party. Rick was only involved to let him in.”
Seconds ticked nearer to minutes as we stood watching each other. Light wind picked up a few of Val’s curls, lifting them from his forehead. Thunder rumbled in the distance.
I ducked my head and tucked a lock of windblown hair behind my ear.
Val raised an unexplained eyebrow, as though he could somehow sense my pulse quickening. Again, he seemed to be concealing the twitches of a smile.
What is with you?
We began to move again.
“So, what do we do now?” I asked.
Val speculated up at the stormy sky. “Well, if it is fraudulent, finding the accession form would be the first step. That may give us some information on how the forged piece came to be at the museum.”
A black ponytail caught my eye farther on the horizon as it swung side to side. A gorgeous middle-eastern woman was jogging down the path toward us. Her tiny pink spandex shorts and sports bra matched her running shoes.
Vanessa.
What was she doing here? Why wasn’t she in Europe with Ryan?
And why, of all places on this green freaking earth, was she in Lincoln Park at this exact moment?
Panic collapsed my lungs as I spun in front of Val, clutching his muscular shoulders. Alarm widened his eyes at my frazzled expression.
“Listen,” I pleaded, “I need you to pretend to like me. Even just pretend to tolerate me for the next few minutes.”
Val’s gaze skirted around me to the approaching nightmare.
I must have looked like I’d seen a ghost—or my ex’s home-wrecking girlfriend, for that matter—so I slipped on a breezy expression and turned to face the inevitable.
OfcourseVanessa would look this good exercising. She didn’t sweat, she glowed.
So that was a real thing, then? I always thought the fitness magazines were just sweat-shaming me.
Her brown eyes widened as she caught sight of me. Vanessa’s gaze flicked back to the path, as if she wanted to blaze past and pretend she never saw us. Unfortunately, she plucked out her earbuds and came to a stop.
“Vanessa. Hi,” I said.
She raked her eyes over Val, her perfectly groomed brows peaking in response. Vanessa’s blatant admiration of him felt maddening for some reason. She couldn’t have both my husbandandVal!
Just…on principle.
“Hello, Amantha,” she said. “I’m surprised to see you in the city on a weekend.”
You’re surprised? Why are you still on this continent?
But then again, Vanessa had a nasty habit of popping up in places she didn’t belong.
“I’m surprised to see you too. Why aren’t you in Europe with Ryan?”
“I’m sorry, who’s Ryan?” Val’s pointed look at me conveyed how rude it was to exclude him from the conversation. Hesitation flowed between Vanessa and me, both unwilling or unsure of what to say.
Reluctantly, I sighed and said, “My ex-husband” at the exact moment Vanessa said, “My boyfriend.”
