Carrick, thank God, didn’t push.
“We’re not sure,” Carrick said, looking at the painting of two children and their African American mother.
“It’s an intensely powerful painting and if it isn’t a Homer, then it’s a superb fake.”
“I have an appointment shortly with an art detective we are hiring to chase down provenance and run tests.”
“I thought you employed art detectives. Isn’t that what Finn does?”
“Finn is checking and double-checking the provenance of all the paintings we are putting up for sale at the Mounton-Matthews auction. It’ll be the biggest sale of the decade and we’ve been working on it for months. Finn is slammed. We also need to use an art detective Tamlyn trusts because she’ll be the one who will eventually decide whether it’s a genuine Homer or not,” Carrick continued.
Tanna’s eyes cooled at the mention of his ex. She and Tamlyn had never jelled and neither made any bones about the fact. “You’re dealing with that witch?”
It was Carrick’s turn to change the subject and he did it by tapping the face of his watch with his index finger. Tanna couldn’t complain; what was good for the goose and all that.
“I have an appointment in five and I need to leave for the airport in an hour so was there a reason for this visit or did you just drop in to say hi?”
Tanna scratched her forehead and wrinkled her nose. “Talking of revisiting the past...”
“Yeah?”
“So, as I said, I’m in Boston for about six weeks...” Tanna nibbled at the corner of her mouth. Get it out, Murphy. Her words rolled out in a rush of syllables. “I went to see Levi this morning. I wanted to apologize to him, see if I could make things right.”
Carrick winced and Tanna didn’t blame him. They both knew a couple of words wouldn’t make it right. “How did he respond?”
“It didn’t go well,” Tanna admitted. “I apologized. He was dismissive.”
Tanna looked past her brother’s shoulder to his incredible view of the Downtown Crossing neighborhood and Boston Common.
Carrick folded his arms, tipped his head and waited for more. Because, somehow, he knew there were at least ten thousand things she wasn’t saying. “He’s still angry at me.”
“Uh-huh?”
“He says I owe him and there’s something I can do to repay him.”
When Tanna didn’t speak again Carrick frowned.
“You going to tell me what Brogan wants, Tan?” Carrick demanded, not bothering to hide his curiosity.
“He wants me to move in with him. He needs someone to run errands for him, cook and clean.” Tanna pulled a face. “He says he can be rude to me and not care.”
“Uh-huh,” Carrick said and Tanna didn’t appreciate his lack of effort to hide his amusement. “And you believed him?”
“He was pretty damn rude,” Tanna muttered.
She couldn’t see anything funny in what she’d said. What was wrong with her oldest brother?
“So, are you going to agree to his demands, clear your debt?” Carrick asked.
“You think I should?”
“I think you should help him out, Tan.”
Tanna narrowed her eyes. “You’re just saying that in the hopes something will spark between us again, so there might be a chance of me moving back to Boston.”
“I’ve never made a secret of the fact that I want you back in Boston and that I want you to be part of the family business again, part of this family. We’ve missed you intensely and you’ve barely spent any time with Ronan’s kids. London is a hella long way away. Levi sat by your bedside for months. The least you can do is help him out when he’s in a jam.”
Yep, Carrick wasn’t above playing the guilt card. Tanna muttered a curse. “Ugh.”
“Is that a yes?” Carrick asked.
“Actually, I’d pretty much made up my mind to help Levi before I got here.” Tanna glared at him. “But I’m not happy about it.”
Carrick started to speak but was interrupted by another knock on his door. Marsha opened it and behind his middle-aged, short and ruthlessly efficient PA stood a tall blonde.
“Carrick, your three o’clock appointment is here. This is Dr. Sadie Slade.” Marsha stepped aside to allow a tall, modern Cinderella look-alike to walk into his office. Tumbling honey curls framed a triangular face dominated by big, round blue eyes holding more than a trace of violet. Tanna looked from the Sports Illustrated model to her eldest brother and her eyes widened at the look of profound—Was that shock on his face?
It was either that or Carrick was having a heart attack. Since she knew her brother was a workout junkie, she figured she didn’t need to call for an ambulance. Thank God, because the thought of giving him mouth-to-mouth made her want to gag.
Then again, the blonde—judging by her flushed face and her inability to pull her eyes off Carrick’s face—wouldn’t hesitate.
Chemical reaction.
Tanna looked past Carrick to where Marsha stood in the doorway and she caught Marsha’s eye, fighting not to return her grin. So, she wasn’t the only one who’d caught the zings between these two.
Ha ha, karma is a bitch, Carrick.
He’d laughed at her for her Levi predicament. She couldn’t wait to watch him dealing with Dr. Sadie Slade, acting like the cool, reserved CEO of one of the premier auction houses in the world while fighting his fierce attraction.
Tanna had no idea how he was going to act cool with his tongue on the floor.
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