Read Online Dog Collar Knockoff by Adrienne Giordano - Free Book Online Page B

said, swiping the screen on her phone to text Ro. “I forgot an email I had to send.”
    A minute later Ro’s phone whistled and she dug it out of the seat pocket. She saw the name on the screen and frowned. “You’re—”
    Lucie cleared her throat and smacked the side of Ro’s leg to shut her up. Finally getting the hint, she read the text. The one telling her Lucie didn’t have anything to wear for her date with O’Brien.
    This got her an irritated sigh. “My work is never done.”
    Before Ro could fire back a text, Lucie turned the volume and vibrate on her phone off. If her phone even buzzed, Joey Big Ears would be on to them. A second later the text popped up. All caps.
    UNBELIEVABLE!!!! IT’S FINE. YOU CAN WEAR SOMETHING OF MINE. I’LL FIND A SHORT DRESS. CROTCH LENGTH ON ME. KNEE LENGTH ON YOU. LOL.
    Lucie snorted. This was friendship. THANK YOU .
    Giving up on the rear-view mirror, Joey swung his head and glanced back at them. “What are you two doing?”
    “Nothing, driver,” Ro said. “Pay attention to the road. Precious cargo here.”
    Fifteen minutes later, Joey pulled into the gallery parking lot and parked just across from the entrance. The three-story brick building with scrollwork on the corners was probably reminiscent of some early style, but Lucie was hardly an architectural expert and couldn’t fathom a guess as to the age of the building. It looked old, but that didn’t always mean anything. The subdued, etched sign near the door read Montrose Gallery.
    Right place.
    Joey pushed open his door. “Okay, ladies. Let’s get this done and get home.”
    Amen to that.
    The three of them sauntered in the front door looking like some whacked-out version of a CIA team. Ro in her designer duds, Joey looking like the well-dressed muscle and Lucie the dour assistant.
    A wiry-framed older man in an expertly tailored gray suit came through a doorway at the rear of the gallery and waved. “Welcome.”
    “Hello,” Ro purred.
    Joey nodded at the man then moved off to the side to let them do their thing while he leaned against the wall and scanned the framed pieces surrounding them. The large, open area contained three support columns leading Lucie to believe a few walls had been knocked out. The low-slung ceiling and subdued lighting gave the room a cozy, but unconfined feel. Whoever had designed the place had managed to display the artwork without any harsh light.
    Then there was the art. At least thirty paintings—all in one long row—lined the walls. Beside each painting was a small plaque that Lucie assumed held information about the work.
    “I’m Carlton,” the man said. “The owner. How can I help you?”
    Ro wandered to the far wall and stood in front of a pastel painting of a woman and young child. “I’d like to look around. I’ve been told you are the exclusive gallery for Arturo Gomez.”
    Prayerful hands and all, Carlton gave a little bow, then straightened up. “Ah, yes. Excellent taste. Are you interested in purchasing one?”
    “Yes.” Ro gestured to Lucie. “Delilah—”
    Delilah?
    “What’s the name of that painting? The one we want?”
    Uh . What was Ro doing? Lucie had seen the names of some of the paintings while doing research, but she hadn’t memorized any of them. Time to punt and give the one title she did know. The one Mr. Lutz owned. “My Darkest Night.”
    “Oh. Lovely piece that one. Unfortunately, I don’t have it.”
    Dang it. If he’d had it, they’d have proved in record time that Mr. Lutz’s painting was a fake. Which couldn’t be considered good news because Lucie would then have to tell her former boss, her current best client, a man who had mentored her and even tried to help her find other banking jobs, that she’d connected him with a dealer who’d sold him a fugazzi.
    Her stomach rolled and she turned back to Joey, who met her gaze then drew his eyebrows together. He would never be Mr. Sensitivity but clearly knew when his sister was in