Page 50 of Forging Caine

I ran my hands over her head, wanting to comb them through her hair, but she’d tied it back in a braid. “You’re right, you know.”

“I know.” She winked, clearly taking too many of my habits. “But it never hurts to hear.”

“It’s past ten already. What’s taking him so long?”

“Maybe he’s not calling until tomorrow?”

“No.” I released her and returned to the worktable, staring at my lifeless phone. “He’s exerting control over the situation. It shows we’re onhisschedule alone. I guarantee he’ll call tonight.”

“See?” She nudged my arm, suddenly standing beside me. “You know what you’re—”

The phone sprang to life, the screen and ringer startling me so much I snatched it on the first ring.Not the way to wrestle for control, Tony. “This is Antonio Ferraro?”Sounding like it’s a question is even worse.

“Antonio, it’s Pasquale. I apologize for my lateness, but I just finished the most stunning dinner. How’s my painting doing?”

Don’t let him set the tone. “I wish you’d given me your number, so I could have called you yesterday.”

“Is there something wrong?”

“I’m going to put you on speaker.”That’s more like it. “Samantha will be joining us for the conversation.”

“Of course, of course.”

I switched the output and put the phone on the table, next to the sheets of paper and pencils we’d prepared in case we needed to communicate separately.

“Good evening, Pasquale,” she said.

“And to you, Ms. Caine.” There it was again—not using her first name. “Now tell me, Antonio, what is it you wanted to speak with me about yesterday?”

My gaze drifted to the tutor’s face on the painting. I’d cleaned the paint away from the original repair, making the tear obvious from the front. “I’m not sure how to say this, but the painting you gave me—”

“It’s the damage, isn’t it?” His voice was hesitant, despite him leaping in to cut me off.

Samantha’s nose wrinkled and she mouthed,What the?

“I’ve felt bad ever since I gave it to you. I wasn’t completely honest about what happened.” Was he acknowledging that it hadn’t been glass to cut it? Or that he knew it was a fake?

Don’t suggest either. Play the innocent.“The repair was actually quite good, other than the lack of fill-in medium.”

“Come now,” Fiori drawled. “You and I both know my wife didn’t break a glass and puncture the painting.”

I remained silent. Samantha’s mouth opened and I shook my head. I didn’t know what she was about to say, but I wanted Fiori to continue talking.

“I’d intended to have it cleaned, so one of my staff took it down from the wall. They had packing materials, including a sharp knife for the tape, but they dropped the knife onto the painting.”

“That would have been helpful to know.” And unfortunately, a reasonable explanation for how straight the cut was.

“I’m sorry for not telling you.”

Samantha wrote on her sheet,Why hide that?

I shrugged and wrote back,Part of the test?

“Do you have an estimate for the repair? I know you were talking about traveling, but I do so want her back on my yacht. We’re leaving the area soon and I’d hate to ship her off somewhere, leaving her in a wooden box, apart from those who love her.”

Creepy, wrote Samantha.

I nodded, a vision of a coffin swimming in my head. And the way he referred to the painting asher, despite there being two people, made my skin crawl. “I cleaned the paint that the other conservator used and removed the patch in the back to apply a proper one. This is where the problem comes.”

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