“Excellent point,” Robert said.
At least he was on her side.
“But what makes a criminal? Someone who breaks the law. It’s not about whether the law is just,” Anya argued.
“Martin Luther King Junior was arrested for protesting. Has anyone considered him a criminal? Did his time in jail act as punishment?”
“Well, not exactly. But the racists who wanted him there would agree that he was a criminal.” Anya stacked her pages of notes and tapped their edges together on the table as she spoke. Her nerves were obvious.
“Over the course of history, we can see the injustice in that. Will we ever say the same of someone like Charles Manson? Jeffrey Dahmer? No. This exhibit is meant to highlight how different cultures throughout history have dealt with their criminals. Adding in beautiful, heart-wrenching art that portrays people’s fight for independence or equality would send a mixed message.”
As Mia spoke, Anya’s paper tapping slowed and her face fell. Mia hadn’t wanted to hurt her feelings, but this was Mia’s first exhibit. One she had created, proposed, and pitched. She wasn’t going to stand by while that vision was altered. The room grew quiet and Anya packed up.
Then Mia had another thought. “However,” she started, and Anya’s gaze shot up to meet hers. “If you can find art that depicts crime against those social justice warriors, or hate crimes in general, we can take some space to explore that.”
“Really?” Anya’s eyes widened. She was younger than Mia by about five years. She was enthusiastic and wanted to prove her worth. Such networking was the best way to secure employment after completing her doctorate. Mia should know. She’d had to lean heavily on the relationships built during her internship after she lost the job in New York because of her father’s indictment.
Mia truly didn’t want to tear Anya down. “Yes. Take the week, put together a proposal of artifacts and how you think they can fit into the exhibit, and we’ll discuss it.”
Robert stood. “It looks as though you have this handled. Let me know if you need anything from me.”
He left and Anya continued to put away her presentation.
“Your ideas are good, Anya. I don’t want you to think that because they don’t fit this exhibit, they’re not worthy. I’ll be happy to have you on my team for this project.”
For the first time since the meeting started, Anya stopped fidgeting and she sent Mia a smile. “Thank you, Dr. Benson. That means a lot to me.”
Mia nodded and walked briskly back to her office. She let her assistant know that she was expecting a guest and that she should be paged when he arrived. She sent a flurry of emails to the other people on her team for the exhibit. They had two months to finish planning and then a month for construction. She’d played a role in all of the stages preparing for an exhibit of this size, but she’d never been the lead. There was far more paperwork and emails than she imagined.
Before she realized how much time had lapsed, her assistant knocked on her door and peeked in.
“Logan Freemont is downstairs for you.”
“Thank you, Jasmine.” She stood, tucked her phone in her blazer pocket, and grabbed her keys and ID. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be, so if I don’t see you, have a good evening.”
Jasmine gave her a knowing smile and Mia left it at that.
In the elevator, she put in her earpiece and pressed the button so Audrey and Nikki could hear her. She touched the locket. “I assume you can see and hear me now?”
“Roger that,” Audrey said and then laughed.
The elevator doors opened and Mia headed to the concierge desk, her heels clicking on the marble floor. Logan was leaning against the counter, phone in hand. Whether he heard her coming or it was something else that caught his attention, he looked up and their eyes met. A jolt of awareness surged through her.
And then he made it worse by smiling. His laugh lines deepened, still not hidden by the beard.
Seriously. How could the man have the perfect amount of scruff day in and day out?
She returned his smile. “I’m glad you could make it.”
“And miss out on a personal VIP tour? Not a chance.”
She handed him a visitor’s sticker and he peeled away the backing and affixed it to the lapel of his suit coat.
She tilted her head and turned. “This way.”
He walked a few steps behind her, head back, looking at the atrium.
She chuckled. It was an awe-inspiring view. The museum was beautiful. “You can see all this another day. I’m going to show you some things up close.”
Two strides and he was practically brushing her arm. He lowered his voice. “There are a number of things I’d like to see up close and personal, but most would not be appropriate with the museum’s patrons as the audience.”
Mia’s skin flushed.
“Oh, this dude is good,” Nikki said. “He’s throwing out some worthy lines. And unpracticed. That’s on-the-spot thinking right there. So he’s quick.”
“I think he just really wants to fuck her,” Audrey added.
Mia’s cheeks flamed.
“The two ideas are not mutually exclusive,” Nikki retorted.
“What I have planned is most definitely suitable for an audience, but it is up close and personal.” She swiped her ID to unlock the elevator to take them to the basement.
“Okay. Not gonna lie. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be taken to a section of the museum that’s off-limits. It’s like being taken to a CIA black site.”
So many bizarre things just came out of his mouth. “As an insurer, you’ve never been to the restoration rooms?”
“Nope.”
“Well, we definitely won’t lock you up and torture you.”
“Good to know.”
The elevator dinged and Mia held out her arm to guide him. “We’ve recently brought most of our Van Gogh works to be cleaned before going out on loan to a museum in California. Since you mentioned your love of Van Gogh, I thought you would enjoy the chance to see them like this.”
“Talking about a guy who cut his ear off isn’t exactly sexy,” Nikki said.
“Shh...she’s making him comfortable so he’ll talk,” Audrey countered.
Mia wondered if this was what she and Jared sounded like when Nikki and Audrey were on a job.
“That’s very thoughtful. Thank you,” Logan said.
Mia swiped her ID to unlock the conservation department. Inside the door, she handed him a pair of gloves.
“I get to touch them?”
“No. But protocol requires we wear gloves.”
He tugged the gloves into place. His hands were big and the gloves didn’t quite fit, leaving the bottom of his palm exposed.
“Hi, Erin. This is my friend Logan.”
“The Van Gogh fan.” Erin flipped her magnifying glasses up and extended a hand to Logan.
“We’ll just wander, if you don’t mind,” Mia said.
“Go ahead. Let me know if you have any questions.” Erin slipped her glasses back down and turned her attention to inspecting the painting on the table in front of her.
Mia stopped at the next table, where three Van Goghs were waiting to be inspected and cleaned. Logan stepped closer and studied the first one. She waited for a sign, the look of awe or excitement she routinely saw in the eyes of someone faced with a masterpiece.
She stood back and gave him space. When he did look up at her, there was interest but not love. Would she have seen it if Nikki had not pointed out that he was law enforcement?
“What do you love most about Van Gogh?” she asked.
“He’s weird,” Logan responded without hesitation.
Far from art criticism.
“He’s brilliant in his use of color, but compared to the other Impressionists, he’s out th
ere. Take The Starry Night. Beautiful painting, but I’ve never seen a swirly sky.”
“Do you know art at all?” The question was sharper and more accusatory than she’d intended, but there was no pulling it back now. Something about this man made her impulsive and reckless. Her mouth rarely got away from her.
“Fuck,” Nikki muttered. “You’re not supposed to let him know you know.”
Logan pressed his lips together and stepped back from the table. Would he come clean now and tell her who he really was? He came closer to her and spoke in a hushed tone. “What gave me away?”
“Both the other day and just now, you referred to Van Gogh as an Impressionist. He was Postimpressionist. That’s Art History 101.” Now maybe they could get somewhere.
“And there goes that opportunity,” Nikki groused.
Chapter Five
Logan smiled and cursed himself. Now he had to figure out how to spin this. “I did, in fact, take art history in college. It just wasn’t my major.”
Mia laughed. It was sudden and so obviously uncharacteristic, she looked surprised it happened. She put her hand over her mouth.
For a brief moment, her tough exterior slipped. He wondered what it would take to make that happen again. “Why is that funny?”
“I didn’t think you’d be honest.” She pointed at the paintings. “Then how did you end up at a job where you’re expected to insure items you know nothing about?”
“I know some things. I’m just not an expert. We have appraisers whose sole job is authenticating.” He took another step closer and lowered his voice a little more. “But if I’m being totally honest here, I leveraged that meager art education for the promotion that got me this position. I figured on-the-job experience would be more meaningful anyway.”
She pursed her lips as if unsure what to do with the information. He took the moment to really look at her. Her bright hazel eyes, sharp cheekbones, and full lips where the corners had a natural tilt to them that hinted at a sneer. Beautiful.
She blinked and he stepped back. Holding out his hand, he said, “Show me what you’ve got. I have a feeling you could give me quite the education.”
“Tell me, Logan, do those lines actually work on women?”
“Sometimes.” He waited until she walked past him to the next painting. “Does that mean they aren’t working on you?”
“Maybe.” She pointed at a painting of a bedroom. “Van Gogh did this same painting three times. When he moved into what is referred to as ‘the yellow house,’ he was excited about doing something new. He started with this.”
“How do you know he was excited?”
“He wrote to both his brother, Theo, and his friend Gaugin about it. He sketched the room for them to see and he talked about the colors he wanted to use.”
“So this is one of those rare times people aren’t just putting meaning where they think it should be? The artist actually said it.”
“Very much so. The three paintings are nearly identical, but small changes were made, such as the paintings on his wall.”
“Do you have all three?”
She shook her head. “No. We just have this one. One is in Amsterdam and the other in Paris. They were together for a while for an exhibit, but they’re all back to their homes now.”
“It looks like a kid painted it. It’s all crooked.” He pointed to the angled lines.
“Some say he did that intentionally; others think the house itself was angled. But for him, it was about color and the importance of the emotions color could convey.”
“And what do you think?” he asked as they moved down the line to another painting.
“About what?”
“Does color convey meaning and emotion?”
She paused and tilted her head while she thought. Her dark hair swayed over her shoulder, revealing her neck. “I suppose. There are colors that humans associate with certain feelings. Black for fear or mourning.” She angled her face to look at him. “Red for lust.”
Tempting. He cleared his throat, and then directed his attention to the paintings again. “What’s the process with these? I’d hate to be the person tasked with cleaning priceless art. What if you scratch it? Or paint flakes off?”
Mia smiled. “It’s some science, some artistic talent.” She flicked a thumb over her shoulder to Erin. “People like Erin pore over these inch by inch, inspecting each minute detail with precision.”
She called Erin over, who walked them through the process of cleaning and restoring a painting. Erin showed him various pieces all being worked on in different ways. When Erin shifted back to the job she was attending to, Mia showed him some before and after photos. It was amazing.
“I still can’t imagine handling priceless works of art every day.”
“When something matters to you, you treat it with respect and care for it. That’s why we’re all here.”
“Would you like to go to dinner?”
She blinked rapidly. “Now?”
“It’s a little early, but that means we’ll get a table easily.”
“All right. I have a few things to wrap up here, so why don’t you choose a place and I’ll meet you there?”
“Or I could just wait for you here.” He looked around. “Not here, here. I can wander the museum until you’re ready.”
She stared at him. Had she been planning to blow him off? Send him on his way and not show up?
“If you don’t want to go to dinner with me, that’s fine. You can just say so.”
Her features softened. “No, it’s not that. I didn’t expect you to want to wait.”
He shrugged. “Like you so aptly pointed out, I have a lot to learn.”
She smiled brightly. “I’ll walk you upstairs.”
They walked in silence to the elevator. When they got to the main floor, he said, “Text me when you’re ready. You still have my number?”
“Yes.” She turned to go back to her office.
“Did you drive to work? Or can we take my car?”
“You drove?”
“I drive everywhere.”
“That makes very little sense in Chicago.”
“I like being in control of when I leave.”
“Until you’re stuck in traffic and you’re late and can’t find parking.”
“I do just fine.” He held her gaze and tried to read her face, but she rarely revealed anything.
“I’ll be down soon.”
He flashed her a smile and watched as she walked away. Halfway down the hall, she glanced over her shoulder. The corner of her mouth tilted up a bit more. He didn’t know what it was about Mia Benson, but he liked her.
He really hoped that when he got a full file on her, he didn’t discover that she was involved in this mess.
* * *
The nonstop chatter in her ear made Mia want to strangle someone. She held it together until she got back in her office. She closed the door behind her and then said, “Shut up.”
She was finally met with blissful silence. She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. “The two of you rambling in my ear most certainly made me look like an idiot.”
“We were trying to be helpful,” Nikki said.
“Believe it or not, I am totally capable of having a conversation without help.” She rubbed her forehead between her eyebrows and sighed. “I’m going to have dinner with the man, but you will not be joining us. I will see what information I can get, but given his ability to spin lies, I’m not very hopeful.”
“But I wanna watch,” Nikki whined. “He’s pretty to look at.”
“You have your own pretty boy to look at,” Audrey said. “I want to see Mia’s face when he smiles at her like that. You know, that smile that says ‘I want to do all sorts of dirty things to you.’”
Yes, Mia knew exactly what smile Audre
y referred to, and just the mention warmed her blood again. She was torn. Part of her wanted to believe he was flirting with her because he was genuinely attracted to her. But there was a niggling fear that he was only testing her the same way she was testing him: to get information.
Certainly, if he were on a fishing expedition, he’d back off if she showed real interest. “All right, ladies, I’m going to dinner. Anything specific I should watch for?”
“Pay attention to where he leads the conversation. If he starts asking about specific things, he’s onto you. If he allows you to direct the conversation, he’s looking to get laid.”
“Ever helpful, as always, Nikki. I’m taking out the earpiece now.”
“Stay out of trouble,” Nikki warned.
Mia rolled her eyes and removed the comm. Those words were normally spoken to Nikki. Mia put the earpiece in her purse and gathered her things. After touching up her makeup, she opened another button on her blouse. An image flashed in her mind of Logan’s large hands fumbling with the remaining buttons, moving urgently to get her naked. She blew out a cool, calming breath.
She didn’t have time for silly fantasies. For all she knew, Logan had somehow connected her and her team to the forgeries. And if that was the case, what would their next move be? Should they shut everything down, even though they were making a difference? The idea of letting her father get away again pushed all lustful thoughts from her mind.
She’d have time for fun and men once she brought her father to justice.
After slicking on a little gloss and spritzing on a hint of perfume, she removed her blazer and left it hanging on the back of her door. She was ready for her date.
Date. Ha! How pitiful that the only date she’d had in almost a year was with a man who might be looking to arrest her.
To Catch a Thief--A High Stakes Romantic Suspense Page 5