Read Online Romance: The Art Of Love: A Billionaire Romance by Veronica Cross - Free Book Online Page A

offering you the
painting.”
              “That’s
exactly what happened with Hans,” Clifford exclaimed. “And at first I thought
he was innocent – that he’d gotten burned by a bad painting. But for that to
happen two times in a row?” He shook his head. “It’s hard for me to believe
that could happen.”
              “If
we can track down the money, we can get it back,” Annette said. “One way or
another.”
              Clifford
nodded enthusiastically. “I told Madison we’ll pay a ten percent reward on any
recovered funds.” His eyes narrowed as he looked at Annette. “That means if you
find it, you’re looking to come into three million dollars or so.”
              “That
would be wonderful,” Annette said. “I’d never have to worry about keeping my
job at Feigenbaum’s ever again.”
              “What
would you do if you had three million?”
              Annette
laughed. “I’d have to find a rich boyfriend. I wouldn’t want some guy who’s
dating me just because I have money.”
              Clifford
burst out laughing. “Do you have anyone in mind, or will any old rich guy do?”
              “Well,
you’ve done really well during the audition phase,” Annette said, leaning in to
give Clifford a kiss. “You deserve first crack at the role.”
              “In
that case,” Clifford said, “We’d better get going and find that money.”

12

 
              “So
what are you looking at there?” Clifford asked Annette. They were seated side
by side on the couch in the Clifford Park office; she had her laptop open and
was peering intently at the screen.
              “Well,”
she said, “we’re pretty sure that Hans didn’t do the paintings himself.” They’d
spent hours researching Hans’ background; nothing they could find indicated he
had the slightest amount of artistic talent. “That means he had to have someone
else paint them.”
              Clifford
nodded. “That part’s easy enough,” he said. “Finding who this someone else
actually is another story.”   He stood up
and walked over to the window. “It could be anyone, anywhere. Anybody out
there.”
              “No,”
Annette said. “It couldn’t be anyone, anywhere. It has to be someone Hans
knows.” She frowned, read some text on the screen, and then scrolled down.
“Someone he’s connected with.”
              “Forgers
have LinkedIn?” Clifford asked, laughing a little.
              “Artists
do,” Annette countered. “And what do you think ‘available for commission’
really means?”
              Clifford
stopped laughing and leaned closer to look at Annette’s screen. He studied the
profile picture and frowned. “Tell me she’s not that way,” he said. “I bought
Madison one of her paintings for her birthday last year.”
              Annette
looked at Clifford, eyes wide. “Happy birthday, Madison!” Prices for work by
that particular artist started in the low hundred-thousands.
              Clifford
shrugged. “She was having a hard time turning forty-one. Forty, she had no
trouble with. Forty-one, it was the end of the world.”
              “Just
so you know,” Annette replied, “I expect to be extremely traumatized on my
twenty-fifth birthday.” She smiled broadly. “Which is April 12 th .”
              Clifford
smiled. “Duly noted.”
              “I’ve
never heard a rumor of her being involved in anything like that,” Annette said,
returning her attention to the screen. “She and Hans are connected, that’s all.
He knows a lot of artists. It’s to be expected.”
              “How
will you know which one is the forger?”
              “I
got us this far,” Annette said, “I thought I’d leave that part up to you.”
              “Oh,
great,” Clifford said. He