The Chase

by Vanessa Fewings

  “Zara?” said Tobias.

  I blinked his way as though stirring from a dream.

  The way he’d spoken my name made me feel as though he’d touched me all over again.

  My fingertips traced my lips.

  We don’t like him, remember?

  “Want to add anything, Ms. Leighton?” asked Logan.

  Great, I’d suddenly developed ADD too, apparently.

  Not wanting to embarrass myself or Adley one more second, I rose to my feet. “If you’ll excuse me...” I need fresh air. “I’ll get us some more water.”

  “Well, this has been a colossal waste of time,” muttered Logan.

  I folded my arms. “Excuse me?”

  She gave a thin smile. “I was merely advising my client we’re running late.”

  My arm shot up and I pointed toward the Pollock. “Look.”

  Logan followed my gaze.

  I took a sharp inhale of breath. “It’s a Pollock.”

  Adley arched a brow as though inviting me to elaborate.

  I rose and strolled over to it. “This is a sixty-million-dollar painting and the coffeepot is boiling just ten feet away from the canvas. Mr. Adley, whoever appraised your artwork needs retraining.”

  “That would be me,” he said calmly.

  My apology stuck in my throat and I swallowed to budge it, my brain replaying the last ten seconds to check if I’d sworn out loud.

  I was too thrown to even cringe.

  “And it just happens to be hanging in your coffee room?” said Tobias, smiling over at Adley. “A remarkable discovery.”

  No, he wasn’t going to fill me with doubt.

  Logan stared over at it. “Shouldn’t you x-ray it before jumping to a conclusion?”

  “The evidence is backed by the frame, Ms. Arquette,” I said. “See? The frame is modest.” My gaze swept over the canvas, my heart sympathizing with this masterpiece and feeling just as misunderstood.

  Adley gestured with open palms toward Tobias and it looked like resignation, or worse, an apology on my behalf.

  Tobias’s fingers were resting on my file. “Thank you, Adley. I believe we’re done here.” He closed it and pushed to his feet.

  Words were exchanged between him and Adley. A shake of hands. A promise to be in touch.

  Tobias lowered his head, tucked his hands into his pockets and left the room without looking at me. Logan threw me a thin smile and followed him out.

  I stood frozen, regretting the sudden delivery of my outburst as I watched them leave, realizing it was too late to salvage the meeting.

  I spun to face Adley. “Sir, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

  “You’re going to have to learn to keep a lid on your emotions, Zara.”

  “Yes, of course.” I plopped back down in my seat.

  Had I just blown my career on my first day? Yes, I bloody well had.

  Adley’s attention went from the door to where Logan and Tobias had just exited and moved swiftly over to the Pollock, his attention lingering there. “Well done.”

  I blinked my confusion.

  Adley gestured to the painting. “Most people assume they’re all fakes. They don’t see beyond the other scoundrels hanging around them. They assume if one is fake, then they all are.”

  Startled, I sat back.

  “Our client requested a demonstration of your skills. I made a call.”

  I wondered how much this had cost the firm. The security detail alone would amount to thousands. It had to be the kind of investment that would pay off when it nabbed a high-paying client. Adley stared in admiration at the painting and I stared at him, marveling at his faith in me to pull off this feat.

  “They left in an awful hurry,” I muttered.

  He shrugged. “Looks like we’re officially lending you to Wilder.”

  My breath caught and my fingernails dug into the armrests.

  “He’s requested an exclusive consultation,” he added.

  “He asked for me personally?”

  But Adley was already on the phone and chatting with a curator about having that Pollock they’d borrowed just this morning returned to the National Gallery.

  4

  My Range Rover handled the off-road terrain well.

  Tobias Wilder’s Oxfordshire estate was tucked away in the middle of nowhere, though thanks to my navigational skills I was right on time. This place was not on the map, nor were the dusty tree-lined lanes that led me here.

  And at 7:00 p.m. I’d not had the advantage of daylight.

  There came a thrill of intrigue at seeing Tobias again, and I knew that the secret painting he wanted me to authenticate would also reveal more about him. As would seeing the inside of his home.

  It’d taken me over two hours to drive from the city, and it felt good to stretch my legs and ease the stiffness from my limbs as I’d made my way up the driveway toward his door. The only way I’d known I was in the right place was that I saw a helicopter perched on the roof.

  You’ll see it from the driveway, Logan’s instructions via email had said. Though she’d not mentioned the driveway went on for three miles.

  And as most Brits didn’t have sleek-looking helicopters on their roofs or a line of silver Jaguars parked outside their multimillion-dollar houses, I knew this was it. Something told me Tobias liked toys. The expensive kind.

  My modest flat was a shoe box compared to this place. My bedroom looked like a hurricane had swept through the place. I’d changed my outfit so many times and even now doubted this was the right choice. Black slacks, a white chiffon blouse, Ralph Lauren heels. I’d treated myself to a trip to my local salon for a professional blow-dry and now my unruly locks were shiny curls tumbling down my shoulders, and I might have spent a little longer than usual on my makeup.

  I’d left my parka in the car.

  The last time I’d seen Mr. Wilder was at the meeting yesterday morning. He apparently needed me in the field immediately. I was curious why time was such a factor. The art world moved at a snail’s pace right up until a painting went to auction. Then all hell broke loose with bidders scrambling to release funds so they could possess that certain piece they’d been waiting to come onto the market. Sometimes for years.

  I knocked several times on the front door. With no answer I took the liberty of heading on in. There was sure to be security to signal my arrival.

  Tobias’s foyer had a minimalist’s opulence.

  Modern, if not futuristic, with chrome-lined trimmings and stark white marble tiles and yet vaguely homey in a high-tech kind of way.

  “Hello!” I called out again.

  My voice echoed, my fingers tense from holding my phone too tightly. I went to call out again—

  A blur of movement shimmered in the far corner.

  The petite geisha was dressed in the traditional kimono and moved swiftly toward me, her head bowed, her lips marked with a red kiss of lipstick, her movement serene as she made her way into the center. Her black hair was rolled into several elaborate buns and her striking features were highlighted by her pure white foundation.

  Why was I not surprised that Tobias had a pretty woman working for him? She came closer, her hands held together in greeting and her fingers eerily pale.

  “I’m Zara. I’m expected by Mr. Wilder?” I gave a quick “I hope so or that would be awkward” smile.

  She raised her line of sight and stared at me. “Yo¯koso.” Unease rose in my chest; a sense something was wrong. She vanished.

  I staggered back, my handbag slipping from my grip and my iPhone joining it on the marble with a loud crack as it bounced at my feet.

  My throat constricted with fear.

  Blinking around the foyer, all air gone from
my lungs, heart racing, my brain telling me to run and yet my legs too weak to respond.

  The geisha girl was back before me. Right there. Her head respectfully bowed, her gaze rose to meet mine, her line of sight exact. And yet—

  “Yo¯koso.” She bowed low.

  These impossible seconds unfolded like a cruel nightmare. Her fading image flickered back into focus.

  “What the fuck...” I hissed through clenched teeth.

  “She’s a bit glitchy.” A male voice. My stare shot toward it.

  Tobias Wilder stood at the top of the stairs with his hands tucked casually inside his trouser pockets, his thoughtful frown deepening. He was more striking than I’d remembered him, that dark blond hair crowning his handsome face and his green eyes were mesmerizing as they held mine. His well-defined physique was now dressed sharply in a classically styled tuxedo, his white shirt open at the collar with no bow tie.

  I chastised myself for staring too long. The geisha was gone.

  Blinking furiously, my brain tried to process what I’d seen.

  Tobias made his way down the stairs. “The uncanny valley.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “A hypothesis.” He paused on the last step. “From the field of aesthetics.” He raised his gaze to the ceiling. “The brain triggers unease. It clearly senses what it’s seeing isn’t real. What was your initial emotion?”

  My thoughts swirled, my jaw easing its tension.

  If try not to pee yourself was an emotion, that would be it.

  He gave an assured nod. “Revulsion? Even if she is pretty.”

  “A hologram?” I wanted to tell him that was wrong in so many ways.

  He arched his eyebrows playfully. “I started off with a rat. That did not go down well.”

  This man was bloody insane.

  And I was in the middle of the country and quite possibly alone with him.

  Trying to pull back on my startled expression, I said, “You have a beautiful home, Mr. Wilder?” It came out as a question. “Long driveway.”

  “Please, call me Tobias.”

  My gaze darted around to see if anyone else was here.

  “Would you like a drink?” He gestured to the left.

  I knelt to retrieve my handbag and cringed when I saw the shattered glass on my iPhone’s screen.

  He stood above me in that devilishly handsome pose, his face calm as though he’d not just scared the crap out of me and smashed my phone. I peered up to see his intense stare locked on mine, and a rush of ill-timed excitement flooded my veins.

  He’d frozen me there with his stare.

  “I’ll get you a new one,” he said firmly. “You’re three models behind, Zara. This will not do.”

  My gaze swept over my phone.

  He held out his hand, and I felt his firm grip as he assisted me up. I stared at him. “That won’t be necessary.”

  “I think you’ll find contradicting me is unwise.” He winked.

  God, I’d forgotten how gorgeous he was. How his striking green eyes crinkled so seductively when he smiled.

  “I insist.” He waved it off.

  My cheeks scorched with embarrassment as I followed him out of the foyer. This was my first day out in the field, and I intended on getting my act together and impressing both Tobias and my boss when he reported back to him.

  For now, I’d have to tuck my cheeky retorts away.

  His cologne wafted around me and I subtly sniffed him in. The scent of a fresh forest in the morning, and something spicy, something forbidden. A poorly timed vision of his naked, toned torso flashed through my thoughts.

  I wondered if Tobias’s messy-yet-artful, post-fucked hairstyle was on purpose. His flawless bespoke tux showed off his tall frame and broad shoulders and his onyx-and-silver cuff links shone as they caught the light. He had the kind of walk that proved his unwavering confidence as he went about intimidating those who dared to enter his stratosphere.

  He’d either come from a posh dinner or was heading out to one. Probably with some übersexy vixen who made me look like the girl next door. Might as well have worn that parka, it wasn’t like he was going to be admiring my curves anytime soon.

  “This shouldn’t take long,” I reassured him.

  He turned and flashed a heart-stopping smile. “I’ve already had the pleasure of a demonstration of your skills, Zara.”

  “The Jackson Pollock?”

  “Quite a gift.” He gave a ghost of a smile and his American aura oozed approachable and yet those stunning good looks were unnerving.

  We made our way into a large sitting room, sparse like the foyer, a leather couch facing the long sweeping window from floor to ceiling. Beyond the view lay miles of lush green grass that eventually met with a forest that stretched out for miles.

  All that lovely nature extended in here too with those tall thriving plants that gave the place an earthy feel. To the left there was a clear wall of glass with falling water echoing like rain along the full length of the room.

  The beauty of it took my breath away.

  “The house is run by solar,” he said when he caught me staring at it.

  “Why the hologram?” I asked. “Is it part of your security system?”

  “I tinker.”

  “With holograms?”

  “Inventions.”

  Of course, I’d read that about him but hadn’t expected to see one so soon, and certainly not such a brilliant demonstration of what he was capable of.

  Tobias made his way over to a chrome bar. From behind there he opened a fridge door and brought out an impressive bottle of Krug champagne and a carafe of orange juice and set about making us drinks. “You made a fine test subject.”

  “You observed my reaction?”

  “Software failed. The experiment was compromised.”

  “What else do you invent?”

  He arched a brow. “The nature of an invention is to create that which does not exist.”

  “Obviously.”

  Tobias paused as though I’d offended him.

  “I’m sure it’s all top secret.” I softened the moment.

  “Failure is common.”

  “Didn’t Edison say something about being so close and not giving up? That you’re usually right there when you give up.”

  “And how would one test such a theory?”

  My teeth scraped over my lower lip as I ran through that logic.

  He turned around and reached up to the glass cabinet behind him and brought down two champagne flutes.

  “I’m driving,” I said. “Water would be nice.”

  “Not tonight.”

  “I meant when I leave later.”

  He spilled a trickle of orange juice onto his hand and licked the tip of his finger; a curl of his sensual mouth, a flash of tongue.

  He threw me a mischievous grin. And I almost melted on the spot.

  Being in the same space with him addled my thoughts, and I had to force myself to pull back on my imagination, which was teasing how wonderful his gorgeous body would feel against mine. A fantasy that felt impossible.

  “Thank you for driving all the way out here,” he said.

  “It’s my pleasure. I’m glad to be of help. Do you rent the property when you’re in town?”

  “I own it.”

  Of course he did, and it felt like such a silly question now.

  He peered out the long window. “I’m not too popular amongst the neighbors. Whoever submitted the schematics for the height of the fences got their metric system muddled with the foot units and measured it all wrong.”

  I had noted how tall the gates were as I’d driven through his property.

  “Turns out,” Tobias continued, “fox hu
nters can’t jump the gates during a hunt.” He uncorked the bottle of champagne. “And their hounds are too big to fit through. So those foxes use my land as a sort of sanctuary. Naughty foxes.”

  I caught his cheeky grin.

  “Well, that’s quite wonderful,” I said.

  “In the winter I like to stand right where you are now and look out and watch them play in the snow.”

  With a tilt of champagne and a dash of orange juice he’d prepared two mimosas. My gaze roamed over him in awe.

  He caught me staring and straightened his back. “Perhaps now is a good time for us to go over my expectations.”

  I stepped forward, eager to hear. “Of course.”

  “Now that you work for me—”

  “Technically I work for Huntly Pierre.”

  “Who have officially loaned you to me.” He caught me with his glare. “Let’s toast to a successful evening.” He raised a glass and offered it to me.

  I took it. “Cheers.”

  “We were discussing the ground rules.”

  “I’d be happy to hear your expectations.”

  He took a sip. “I expect confidentiality—”

  “That goes without saying.”

  “Unquestioning loyalty—”

  “Of course.”

  “I expect you not to interrupt when I’m speaking—”

  “I was merely—”

  He arched a brow.

  His overly confident manner sent my equilibrium reeling and I had to stare out of that long glass window to regain my composure.

  “Let’s discuss tonight,” he said.

  He wasn’t just into controlling holographic geishas apparently. I looked around. “Sir, perhaps I could see the painting?”

  “Tobias.”

  I gave a thin smile. “Tobias, I’d love to see it. The painting, I mean.”

  He raised his glass and took several sips, his stare holding mine.