After some wandering, I admit that Carlyle’s might be a bit bigger than Loot. But the one person I asked was helpful since I look the part, and soon I’m in front of the storeroom for the women artists show.
With no word of warning from Sonia, I go into the room.
I open the door and close it quietly behind me, waiting a few seconds to listen for any incoming footsteps. Hearing nothing, I turn into the room and get my phone out, ready to document the competition. I turn on the flashlight, pointing it to the ground to give me a little light without turning on the lights and getting any extra attention.
Shit.There are some really nice pieces here. This can’t be a coincidence...they probably heard from sellers I’m contacting about the show, and decided they’re doing their own. And itmightbe better than mine. Until I get more pieces, at least.
To actually copy my show is so low. A very Carlyle move.
“I don’t know how much you thought this through, but I can’t see where you are for the lookout part of my job,” Sonia says into my ear.
I jump and clutch my wildly beating heart. I’d forgotten I’d put the earpiece in, and that Sonia would be talking to me.
I answer after a pause when I get my breathing under control. “I figured. I need you to focus more on being a distraction if I need it, but so far everything’s okay.”
I move from piece to piece, taking pictures as I go. Damn it, they have an Artemisia Gentileschi. And a good one too, one of her depictions of Judith and her maidservant after they cut off Holofernes’s head.
I’m so disappointed by the excellent collection they have, I don’t hear the sound of footsteps outside the door or any other indication that I’m going to be found out, until I hear the door itself open. My heart ratchets up again at the thought of being caught, so all I can hear is the pounding of my own heartbeat in my ears.
Shit balls tits!I run, as quietly and quickly as I can, to hide behind an antique couch.
I don’t want to go to jail. There are no sales for me to run in jail. Or any Shake Shack.
“Priya?” a man asks from the door.
Chapter Six
“Gavin. Heeeey.” I pop up from the couch that I had barely hidden behind.
“Do you need me?” a panicked Sonia screams in my ear.
“No,” I whisper, and then cough to try to cover it up. It’s Gavin; I can handle him.
“What are you doing here?” He has a notebook in his hands, and he looks back and forth from the door to me.
“What? Isn’t this the bathroom?”
Gavin takes in my outfit and the phone in my hand, still open to the camera app, the flashlight on. I rush to turn everything off, but not before he sees the damning evidence.
“You came to the sale in a maintenance uniform? That’s what you’re going with?” He crosses his arms across his massive chest, turning me on and expressing his disbelief all at the same time.
“Hmm-huh.” I smile, trying a different route with the man. Charm.
“Did you just break into Carlyle’s to be closer to me?” Gavin smiles back, comfortable now that he’s over his initial confusion.
“No.” I throw out instantly, then think better of it. I am trespassing. “I mean, yes?”
“Why are you here?” he asks again, sitting on one of the antique chairs, languidly crossing one ankle over his knee and leaning back.
I refrain from pointing out that he shouldn’t sit on the antique furniture, since I’m the criminal in this situation. Allegedly.
“Priya, what are you doing here?”
We’re still on that? “I heard there was a nefarious plot to steal your items, and I didn’t think you would believe me, so I came to save your art.”
He doesn’t respond, but quirks his eyebrows up, silently offering me another chance.
“Would you believe I’m sleepwalking?”
