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Kate stared at the painting in front of her, her lips parted in surprise as she stared at the intricate brushstrokes, an unmistakeable blur up close as the colours blended together to form the distinctive shapes.
She cleared her throat as she stood, turning to the young man in front of her, “Mr Bridgerton,-”
“Gregory.” The man cut in, adjusting his glasses, “You can call me Gregory. Everyone does. I’m not really a mister… I just turned eighteen last month.”
There was something about him that made Kate smile. “Gregory then. I… I want to be respectful but… are you quite sure that this painting is the one your family means to donate.”
Gregory shifted nervously, peering around her at the painting his eyebrows lifted. “Is it…? Is it not a good one?” He swallowed, “Sorry if this is… insulting? I just… I’m just bringing the one Anthony, told me to.”
Kate chuckled, perching herself on the edge of her desk. “Gregory, you’re not fond of art are you?”
He flushed a little, “I don’t… honestly know that much about it?”
“This is a Monet, Gregory. It’s worth… well, it’s worth quite a bit of money.”
She was used to this. Well, she was supposed to be used to looking at things that were worth millions of pounds, it’s what Christie’s did after all. It was what she’d gone to Oxford for in the first place, to learn the history of every piece that crossed the threshold of this office. But somehow you never quite got used to seeing these things up close. Every time she held something in her hands she imagined all the things it had seen, the history of each and every person that had held it before her. And while she never got used to being surrounded by the beautiful things, created over centuries, she had gotten used to one thing; The people that brought her beautiful things wanted money. It was one of the reasons why she’d felt a little stupid sending out a heartfelt plea to hundreds of names in their databases asking for donations. She’d thought they’d get some, small number in the name of good publicity. It was why Christie’s had agreed to it in the first place. Good publicity for everyone, a tax write off for the people who bought and donated. She hadn’t expected a Viscount to send his baby brother with a painting worth nearly ten million pounds.
“It’s one of the good ones then.” Gregory clicked his tongue, “Good to see Anthony’s not being cheap I suppose.”
She smirked, not quite sure what to make of this. “Is he known for being cheap?”
“He’s known for being… a bit of a grump.” Gregory grinned with the affection of a younger sibling, “Whatever that‘s worth.”
“Not a lot.” Kate turned to look at the painting. “This is… a very generous donation but I’m not sure we can accept it.”
It would mean so much. To advertise that this piece was for auction would create press around the event that money couldn’t buy. People would travel for the chance to buy this, it would mean millions of pounds would go to a cause that needed it desperately. That could feed and clothe people who needed it, put roofs over heads when winter approached. The sale of this painting alone would bring so much good fortune to others. And yet… in Kate’s experience, the people that sat on the other side of this desk didn’t give away millions for nothing.
“But I was asked to bring it.” Gregory said a little awkwardly, “This was my job. He asked me to organise getting this painting here and I… I just started working for the family and I want to do a good job.”
Something in that tugged at her heart strings, the eager want to do this properly, the one that that had been asked of him. There was so much earnestness in this young man who’d been born from so much privilege. It almost made her curious to see the people who had raised him.
“Gregory, perhaps-”
“I really didn’t think it would be so hard to donate something you asked for.”
Kate chuckled, “Usually it’s not. But to be fair, I thought I might get a vase.”
“Well, you’ve got this. Monet.”
“Mon-ay. No hard T.”
Gregory shrugged, reaching into the satchel he’d left sitting on the chair beside him. “Regardless, I have the required paperwork, signed by my brother relinquishing ownership of the painting ahead of the auction. You’ll find its all in order. I might not know anything about art but I can fill out a form.” He smiled at her again, a dimple appearing in his cheek. “Well, my girlfriend Lucy can and she told me what to do.”
She stared at the hand he held out to her, the offer too tempting. “And you’re very sure of this, Gregory?”
“I’m sure.”
She took his hand, “Then thank you for your very generous donation, Mr Bridgerton.”
___________________________
Anthony’s heart stopped as he stared at the blank space on the wall, the paint a slightly different colour where the painting had covered it but now there was only a single cobweb.
“Gregory!” Anthony called out, trying not to let panic leach into his voice. Surely it wasn’t gone. Surely not that painting. It had just been taken out for cleaning. Yes, that was it. It was being cleaned. There wasn’t any need for panic.
Gregory’s footsteps, plodded softly into the room, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up the minute he’d gotten home, smiling. “What did I do? Surely it was Hyacinth.”
“I heard that!” Their sister’s voice called from the corridor but Anthony paid her no mind.
“Do you um…? Do you know if someone came to take the painting that was here for cleaning?”
Gregory’s brow furrowed, as though Anthony had gone insane. “No?”
“Does Mum know?” Anthony prompted.
“No. What are you talking about?”
“What am I-?! Gregory, there was a painting here this morning and now it’s gone!”
“I know there was a painting there, Ant.” Gregory rolled his eyes, “I took it for the auction, Just like you asked.”
Anthony’s stomach dropped, a ringing in his ears starting as his fingers clenched into fists at his side. “I didn’t-“ He took a deep breath, “Gregory, I didn’t tell you to take that painting.”
Gregory’s mouth dropped open in surprise and he shoved his glasses back up his nose. “You- You did! You called me in here and you said, and I remember this specifically; ‘Greggy, I want you to organise to have that painting donated.’ You gave me the letter you got and I said; ‘That painting, Ant?’ And I pointed at it!” He pointed at the wall for effect. “And you said yes!”
Anthony’s heart was pounding as he pinched his nose. God, this couldn’t be happening. “Greggy, I said that painting.” He jerked his thumb behind them at the Degas still there.
Anthony watched Gregory’s face go white as realisation dawned on him and he shook his head. “No! I confirmed! You signed the paperwork!”
God, he had signed the paperwork. Why hadn’t he fucking checked the title of the piece?!
“I- Fuck!” Anthony hissed, “Greggy, why would I want to donate that one? I like that one!”
“I thought you wanted them to have something nice! That one is creepy and you hate it!”
“Everyone thinks Degas is creepy! It was the perfect opportunity to get rid of it!”
“You were going to give something you hate for charity?” Greggy asked, his brow furrowed. “Isn’t that a bit…?”
“Gregory,” Anthony sighed, “I don’t think this is the time for a morality lesson.”
“Please, don’t yell at me!” Gregory looked close to tears, panic building in his chest. “I’m sorry, okay? I fucked up!”
Anthony took a deep breath, deflating as he let it out and taking a step forward to wrap his arms around his brother’s shoulders just as he had on the worst day of their lives when Gregory had been 2 years old and he’d clung to Anthony with tears running down his face. “Hey, hey. I’m not yelling okay? I was just… surprised. But this is as much my fault as it was yours. I wasn’t paying attention.”
Gregory pulled back, ruffling his hair, “Maybe you could talk to her. She was really nice. Maybe she’d give it back.”
Anthony nodded, smoothing his own hair. Gregory wouldn’t remember why panic had risen in his chest when He’d seen it gone. He wouldn’t remember that their father had bought it the day before he died and even if he could be probably wouldn’t realise the link that Anthony had made when it had been delivered a week later Anthony had been able to smile again. As though a piece of their father was still alive. He’d thought that every time he’d looked at that painting. And now it was gone.
“I’m sure we can come to some sort of arrangement.” Anthony said, trying to convince himself even more than his brother. “I’ll go down to Christie’s tomorrow. Sure this…”
“Kate, her name was Kate.”
“Kate. Kate’s a sensible name, Surely a sensible woman.” Anthony clapped his brother on the shoulder. “Until then, nothing to worry about hey? But let’s just… tell Mum it’s gone for cleaning when she comes in here okay? No need to upset her.”
“I’m wondering if you can help me.” Anthony grinned at the woman behind the desk, “I’m looking for Kate Sharma.”
The woman’s eyes widened as she took him in, her lips parting in surprise, fumbling for words. “Oh! Of course, is she- Is she expecting you?”
Anthony winked at her, smiling his most charming smile. “Oh, I’m just here to surprise her.”
The woman flushed, looking away nervously. “Oh! Um! Sorry, are you her new boyfriend?”
He smiled as though it were their little secret, “Something like that.”
The woman seemed to deliberate for a second, “Her office is upstairs, take a right and then a left and her name is on the door. But if anyone asks I didn’t let you in.”
“Oh I’d never tell.”
Anthony had rehearsed what he was going to say as his car had moved through traffic and he kept his charming smile in place as he made his way upstairs searching the nameplates on the door.
KATE SHARMA
The name was unassuming, etched on the shiny brass and he took a deep breath before he rapped his knuckles on the door and a smooth voice answered.
“Come in!”
Anthony pushed the door open, ready with the full force of his charm and the weight his family named carried and for the second time in as many days he stopped dead. He wasn’t really sure what to expect from Gregory’s description of her as “Your age, maybe.” But it hadn’t been this. Kate Sharma looked up at him in surprise, her dark eyes widening in surprise behind her glasses as she lifted her head from where it had been resting on her hand.
“Can I help you?”
Anthony was a little taken aback, truthfully. Not only because the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen was staring at him as though he’d lost his mind but usually he carried a little more sway in places like this. And he couldn’t think of a thing to say. “I’m…Anthony Bridgerton.”
“Ah.” Her lips parted a little with the noise as though she’d half been expecting him. “Then let me thank you in person for your very generous donation.” She leaned in as though she were making a joke. “Usually people just… wait for the fruit basket at home.”
Anthony shifted a little uncomfortably at her light praise, feeling more than a little embarrassed. “I’m here about the painting actually. My brother… brought the wrong one. I’d be more than happy to donate something, charity is very important, but… that piece I’m afraid is… not for sale.”
Kate Sharma leaned back in her chair, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders and adjusted her glasses with a wry smile on her face. “I thought it might be a mistake. No one in their right mind just gives away a Monet. Are you in your right mind do you think, Lord Bridgerton?”
Anthony felt his cheeks flush and he floundered for something to say. “I- Yes!”
Kate clicked her tongue, “I thought you probably would be. Which is why I confirmed with…” she looked down at some paperwork, “Gregory, three times. But he insisted.”
Anthony’s jaw clenched. “Gregory is… not an appreciator of art. He wouldn’t know a Monet from a Picasso. Or a Degas which is what I was supposed to donate.”
“Oh, I would have loved that. Not to my taste, I’ve always found them a little misogynistic but they do seem to sell.”
“I think so as well!” Anthony leapt at it, hoping to find some common ground to persuade her. “I said as much yesterday!”
“Did you hear that theory that he was Jack the Ripper?” She leaned in conspiratorially, “Wild.”
“Insane theory but it kind of reads though. Those ballerinas just creep me out.”
“Naw, twinsies.” Kate bit back a smile, teasing him a little, “Bless. I do have your Monet though.”
Anthony cleared his throat, glad to get back to business. “Well, you understand of course, so if you could in fact send back my Monet I’d be happy to arrange for the Degas to be sent over to you with the appropriate paperwork.”
She leaned back in her chair again, surprise written on her beautiful face. “No.”
Anthony, had already turned to leave in part, not sure what else to do and her word nearly had him falling over. “No?!”
“No.” She confirmed, smiling politely. “I have a signature from you on this piece of paper,” she waved it at him, “Allowing me to auction it.”
“I… didn’t check the title of the piece!” He said a little petulantly. Muttering under his breath. “Of course he picks this time to do the paperwork properly!”
She clicked her tongue sympathetically, “Your sloppy paperwork really isn’t my problem, Lord Bridgerton. After all, you might have been condescending but Charity is very important.”
“Do you have any idea how much that’s worth?!” He spluttered.
“I do.” She nodded, rolling her eyes at him. “It’s sort of what I do. My family actually paid quite a bit of money for me to study History of Art at Oxford.”
Anthony narrowed his eyes, “I went to Oxford. I don’t know you.”
She laughed and the noise floated through the air towards him, fluttering in his chest unexpectedly. “Do you know every Oxford grad?”
“I know quite a few. How old are you?”
“That’s a very personal question, my Lord.”
“You don’t have to call me that with that tone. We might have been there at the same time.”
Her lips quirked again and he fucking knew he’d be thinking about that for weeks. “There’s not a tone. Would you prefer I call you Anthony?”
His name shivered down his spine, her voice curling around it and he found himself a little breathless for a reason he didn’t want to name. “I… I just want that painting back!”
She tilted her head, a faux sympathetic expression on her face. “See that might be the sticking point here.”
“So you’re just… keeping my painting?!”
“No, I’m keeping our painting.” She waved the deed again, smiling. “Because of this.”
Anthony stared at her in shock, “I- Never in my life-”
“You do strike me as someone who’s used to getting what they want, Anthony.” She tapped her pen on the desk. “I’ll tell you what, If you tell me why it’s so important to you, you can have it back.”
Anthony froze. He couldn’t tell her that. He wouldn’t. She didn’t have a right to know anything about his father.
Anthony scoffed, “Who said it’s important?”
“I’ve been doing this a while. I know your family has a lot of very expensive artworks. Something tells me you don’t care this much about every one of them.”
Anthony leaned forward, pressing his palms against the desk. Dropping his voice as he looked up at her through his eyelashes. “Come on, Kate. Surely we can discuss this over dinner.”
She blinked at him, a laugh falling from her lips. “We can if you want to hear the same answer over wine.” She stood, she was taller than he expected and looked him straight in the eye as she stepped around him and patted his chest. “I’m sure a man like you has a huge cheque book he’s just waiting to whip out. So… I’ll see you on the 17th and you can do some charity work, if you want your painting back.”
“What?!”
She strode towards the office door, calling out over her shoulder. “Say hello to Gregory for me. He was such a sweetheart!”
“I won’t!” Anthony seethed after, “And he is a sweetheart! I love that kid!”
“How did it go?”
Gregory asked nervously when Anthony stormed into the office a little later, throwing down his coat. “Well, if I wasn’t so furious at that woman; I’d be very proud for the way you’d done your paperwork Greggy. Very methodical! Unfortunately for us!”
___________________________
“Ah! Miss Sharma!”
Kate turned towards him, trying not to reel backwards in surprise as Viscount Bridgerton approached her looking a little unfairly handsome in a tuxedo probably worth more money than she made in a month.
She’d been shocked at his audacity when he’d shown up at her office, demanding the return of his painting. She’d known men like him at Oxford and she saw them every day now. Wealthy and handsome and sure the world owed them whatever they wanted because if it. But even so there’d been something more. There was something more in the way he’d stared at her, and his lips had formed her name, caressing it as it left him. There was something in his eyes when she’d asked him why it was important that had piqued her curiosity and made her think of him long after she’d left him standing in her office to go and find out how the fuck he’d been let in to begin with without her finding out. But she hadn’t really thought he’d come here.
Kate had assumed he’d been brought there by the little dint in his ego that his mistake had caused and her refusal had sparked some sort of… interest maybe. But she had been almost certain that as soon as he left the sting of her rejection would disappear and this would become a hilarious anecdote. The time he accidentally gave away millions of pounds worth of artwork.
He came to a stop in front of her, his hair slicked back and her stomach dropped as his eyes flicked down over her dress, his jaw clenching lightly.
“Were you not wearing glasses the other day?”
Kate raised her eyebrows, “I’m wearing contacts but I’m flattered that you committed my face to memory. Fancy man like you.”
Anthony rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why do you not like me?”
“I never said I didn’t like you.”
“You just won’t give me my painting back.”
“My painting now.” She reminded him, looking past him to Gregory standing behind him, eyes flicking back and forth between them. She smiled at him, “Hi Gregory, it’s good to see you again.”
“Hi, Kate!”
Anthony let out an annoyed gasp that delighted Kate for some reason as he swept his younger brother behind him, “Oh don’t talk to Greggy! You’ve wronged him.”
“Greggy? You call your little brother Greggy?” She couldn’t help but smile at that, leaning against the table. “That’s very sweet.”
Anthony flushed, “Don’t try to win me over now. After you insulted me the other day?”
She raised her eyebrows, “Insulted you? By holding you to a deal your brother brokered on your behalf? With your signature on the paperwork?”
“What kind of person would accept a piece of artwork from someone who didn’t even know what he was bringing in?!”
“Do you…?…Know what I do for work?” Kate asked, a little baffled, “People bring things to me and ask me how much they’re worth. Because they’re not always sure. There’s sort of a famous show about it. Have you seen Antiques Roadshow?”
Somehow the irritated expression that crossed his face only drew her in closer, made her want to tease him more. “I’m familiar with the roadshow, thanks.”
“Our Mum loves it.” Gregory said, smiling around Anthony.
“You could still give it back.”
Kate sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. “No, I can’t. We’ve advertised it’s going to be auctioned off, we have the paperwork. Unless you have a reason I can’t.”
She watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat and he took half a step back before he answered her. “Might I at least know the lot number I’m to bid on if I want my painting back?”
Kate clicked her tongue, and reached onto the table behind her, plucking a catalogue off it. “Have a flick through, Viscount Bridgerton, you might even find it in your little heart to buy something else while you’re out.”
Anthony rolled his eyes, tucking the catalogue into his jacket pocket. “Are you always this ballsy?”
“I try to be.” She mused, “You don’t get very far in this world without it.”
“And having dinner with me…?”
Kate tried not to show how surprised she was that he was still pushing. “Still an option. Of course, if you don’t win your painting back, you might never want to see me again.”
Anthony clicked his tongue, “I’ll win my painting back, don’t worry. Like you said: I’m pretty used to getting what I want.”
She let her eyes roam down his body before she shrugged, nonchalant again. “Well, we’ll just have to see about that. Won’t we?”
“I suppose we will.”
“You look very handsome, Greggy.” Kate winked at him as she passed, “Lucy’s a lucky girl.”
“Thank you!”
“Oh leave Greggy alone please!” Anthony called out to her and she just heard him turn to his brother before she got out of earshot, “Don’t tell her things she could use against us!”
___________________________
Anthony hated Kate Sharma.
That much he was absolutely certain of.
She was infuriating.
Maddening.
Beautiful.
Wait, what?!
She was but he couldn’t think about that right now. At this very moment he had a painting to buy. Well, not at this exact moment but at a moment very soon. At this exact moment he was snatching a glass of champagne off a passing tray and staring at Kate Sharma across the room as she mingled with people Anthony vaguely recognised.
“She’s nice, hey?”
Anthony looked to Gregory who’d insisted on accompanying Anthony to fix his mistake, even though Anthony himself had told him not to worry about it. Anthony had spent the last few days snatching every mention of the auction from right in front of his mother’s nose, tearing pages out of newspapers like a madman. She might be the only person in the family who would feel the loss of this the same way he did. They both had grieved Edmund Bridgerton so deeply, his mother not leaving her bed for days at a time and Anthony couldn’t bare to bring his mother back to that place. He would tell her one day, tomorrow maybe even, when he owned it once again and this would just be a funny footnote in its history. For now he had to focus on getting it back. Not on the irritatingly beautiful woman who currently had it.
“I’m not sure I’d call her nice, Greggy.” Anthony took a sip of his champagne. “She is holding a very expensive painting hostage.”
Gregory shrugged, “To be fair, you signed the paperwork.”
“Wow, really feeling assuaged of your guilt now, hey buddy?”
“I was feeling pretty bad about it until I noticed something.” Gregory’s voice lilted, the same way it did when he teased Hyacinth as he inspected the canapé he was holding.
Anthony narrowed his eyes, “And what’s that?”
A sly smirk grew on his brother’s face as he poked Anthony in the ribs. “You have a crush on her.”
“Oh,” Anthony scoffed, swatting away his brother’s hand. “Don’t be ridiculous. What am I? Fifteen? I don’t have a crush on her!”
“You do! Your ears went red and everything.”
“They didn’t!”
“Oh! So you don’t think she’d pretty?”
He rolled his eyes, “Well, I have bloody eyes, Greg. I’m not blind. She’s a very beautiful woman.”
He couldn’t very well deny that. That in and of itself would have raised suspicion.
“And she put you right in your place. You need that sometimes.”
Anthony felt his face twitch but he focused on his drink. “Gregory, she clearly doesn’t like me. And besides, I’m just trying to get back this painting and go home.”
Gregory rolled his eyes this time, “Oh come on, she likes you plenty. She keeps looking over here.”
Anthony spun towards her, unable to help himself. “Does she?!”
“Oh yeah, I can tell you don’t like her at all.”
“Hardly the point of all this.”
“She just wants to raise money for charity.” Gregory sighed, snatching up another canapé. “I would have thought the way to get her attention was pretty obvious, Ant.”
Anthony narrowed his eyes at his brother, turning away to look for Kate again and something tugged in his stomach when he caught sight of her with her hair shining in the light, smiling at something her coworker was saying.
Anthony set down his glass, picking up the paddle he’d been given when he registered. “Well, I’m feeling very charitable actually, Greg. Aren’t you?”
Gregory smiled, “I’d have to say I am.”
“What are you doing?”
Anthony turned towards Kate who was crouched beside him at the end of the row, the scent of her perfume washing over him.
“Do I hear £45,000?” The auctioneer called to the audience.
Anthony raised his eyebrow as he held up his paddle again, upping the bid. “I’m buy this…” he looked towards the podium, “Is it a vase? I’m not an expert like you are but I think it’ll look lovely on a little plinth in my Mother’s house.”
“We’re buying stuff.” Gregory chimed in leaning around Anthony. “Hey, Kate.”
Anthony watched as Kate’s face softened “Hi, Gregory.” She turned on Anthony again, her hand gripped the sleeve of his jacket, “Is this a joke to you?”
“The bid is with the gentleman in the back. Do I hear £45,100?”
Anthony made a non committal noise and one-upped his own bid.“I’m not the funniest of my siblings, but I can come up with a better joke than this.”
“We have £45,100. Do I hear any other offers?”
“Okay, this is important to some people, Viscount Bridgerton. I know I was teasing you but there’s no need to-”
“Going once!”
“I’m not making fun of you. It’s a lovely vase.”
“Going twice!”
“It’s an urn! And it’s been on this planet longer than your family’s had money to bandy about like this!”
“Going three times, Now ladies and Gentlemen!”
“What’s the difference between a vase and an urn, really?”
“SOLD! To the gentleman in the back!”
“Oh!” Anthony said delightedly, patting her hand still gripping his sleeve tightly, “I won!”
Kate’s brow furrowed in surprise as the room applauded him and he waved politely, her voice low when she spoke. “Are you trying to ruin this?”
Anthony blinked at her, “On the contrary, I’m making this a success.” He leaned forward, relishing in the opportunity to throw her off her game for once. “You wanted to see how big my cheque book was didn’t you? Here it fucking is, Kate.”
Kate’s eyes widened, her lips curving a little, “You’re a bit insane aren’t you?”
“Maybe.” Anthony said, Sticking his paddle in the air again for whatever was being announced next.
Kate straightened, smiling properly. “I like a little bit of insanity.”
“Buckle up then. You’re about to see it.”
“Down boy.” She tilted her head, “Better tuck away that paddle before you run out of money.”
Anthony scoffed, lifting it into the air once again. “That’s not likely to happen, I can go all night.”
Her eyes darkened a little and he heard the intake of breath before she stood, looking unbothered once again. “Sure you can.”
___________________________
“Ah! There you are!” The Viscount called out as he signed a cheque with a flourish, holding it out to the clerk. “I think we’ll agree I’ve been very charitable tonight.”
“I can see that.”
She could see the neat writing twenty-two million four hundred and seventy-six thousand four hundred and fifty-eight pounds sterling shining at her. She’d watched him curiously all night as he thrust his paddle into the air with a nonchalant attitude, not bothering to look through the catalogue for a description of any kind, likely no idea what it was he was paying for at all. That was until the final item, when the murmurs in the room had risen and the auctioneer had started the bidding and he’d stood with his paddle in the air and said-
“£10 million!” He’d smiled around the room and whistled as everyone had stared at him in shock, “I have to warn you all, I’m prepared to sit here for as long as it takes to get that painting. What do you say we make it £15 million and be done with it?”
She was so curious about his affinity for that painting. And maybe that was why she found herself smiling, being drawn towards him. “Colour me impressed, my lord.”
“Now it’s time for you to hold up your end of the bargain.”
She raised her eyebrows, her heart stuttering. “I’m sorry?”
“A drink.” He checked his watch quickly with a disappointed tut, “It’s a little past dinner time so I’ll take that tomorrow but for now I think it’s time to buy you a drink.”
She looked at him, a little surprised. “Are you sure you should spend any more money tonight? Your accountant will be furious.”
He laughed, the noise boyish and gentle and he looked younger somehow when he tossed the cheque book at her, letting her catch it. “Feel how huge it is, Kate. I promise you it can get you a gin and tonic.”
“How do you know I like a gin and tonic.”
He clicked his tongue, “Intuition I suppose. Glad to see we’re connected. Soulmates if you will.”
A surprised chuckle escaped her, “Where’s your mini-me?”
“His girlfriend picked him up.”
She was out of excuses really. And at the very least it might satisfy her curiosity. “Lead the way then, I suppose.”
“Throwing me your cheque book is kind of wild.” Kate chuckled, sat in the passenger seat of a Ferrari that growled through the city, weaving in and out of traffic. “What if I bought myself a really fancy Cartier bracelet or something?”
Anthony sighed, tugging at the end of his bow tie until it came free and he left it on the dash while his unbuttoned his collar, leaving it open. “Without sounding like a complete cock, Kate: I would assume it was my younger sister if I even noticed at all.”
“Good to know.”
The velvet sleeve of his jacket brushed her arm in the cramped space of the sports car and a shiver went down her spine. “Is this your everyday car?”
He raised his eyebrows, “Ah… is that really what you want to know about me?”
“I’m just curious, a bright blue Ferrari seems a little dramatic.”
He looked at her blankly, “I would have thought if you’d learned anything about me tonight it would be that I’m very dramatic.”
She smiled at that and the car pulled to the curb. Anthony smiled quickly and leapt out of the car, sliding his jacket off before he opened her door. He held his hand out to her and her stomach fluttered as he helped her from the car. The cool night air made her shiver and he held his jacket out.
“Oh, you’re fine.” She shook her head, “I’ll be fine when we get inside.”
Anthony rolled his eyes and stepped back, draping it around her shoulders. “I might be dramatic but I’m a gentleman.”
“Oh, is that what that was back at the auction when you sniped… basically everything? Being a gentleman?” His jacket was warm against her skin and the smell of his cologne was thick around her as he lead her down an alleyway.
“Excuse me, I left several things for everyone else. I don’t need an ashtray for example.”
Kate ignored him, peering down the alley. “Did you bring me here to kill me?”
“No, I’m not Degas.” Anthony mused, knocking on a wooden door, “This is just a club I’m a member of.”
“A member of?” She chuckled, “Are you trying to impress me, Lord Bridgerton?”
He grinned at her and her stomach fluttered stupidly again. “Maybe just a little. You did kind of challenge me to.”
It was warm inside by the fire but she didn’t take off his jacket, their drinks sat on the table in front of them with Anthony peering curiously at her. “So, tell me. Why work at Christie’s?”
Kate took a sip from her drink, shrugging. “There’s not a lot of jobs in art history. I don’t have the patience for teaching and I’m… decent at restoration but not incredible so… here we are.”
“I think its more than that.” He was looking at her so intently, as though she were the only person in the room and it made her shift a little uncomfortably.
“You mean like there’s more to it with that Monet.”
Anthony’s lips twitched and he inclined his head. “Fair enough.”
Neither of them spoke for a moment and finally it came tumbling out of her. “I like knowing the history of things. I like… imagining all the places these things have been and the things they’ve seen. I love that everything’s… lived a hundred lives over years and it’s still here. I like the idea of that. I think it’s… beautiful.” She took another drink, “Plus, of course, a lot of talent goes into things. They’re beautiful in and of themselves.”
Anthony nodded, his head tilted curiously, “It’s a great thought. You said you did restorations, you paint then?”
“Just for me.”
“I’d like to see it some time.”
Kate rolled her eyes, “You did spend £20 million pounds on this date, maybe I should throw in a painting.”
He barked out a laugh, his eyes shining at her. “A date hey?”
“Ugh, I don’t even know why I’m doing this.”
Curiosity mostly, but there was something else that she wasn’t even sure she wanted to stay away from.
“Why are you?” He shrugged at her questioning look, “Come on, you’re a pretty girl. I’m not the first man to try his luck at work.”
“That might be true.” Kate sighed, “Maybe I’m just curious about why you spent millions of pounds on something you claim doesn’t have any sentimental value to you. Maybe I just think it’s sweet that you probably have every right to be furious with your brother and you aren’t. You call him Greggy, and I watched you text him to make sure he got home okay.”
Anthony flushed, leaning back in his chair, “Well, I’m not mad at Greg. I should have checked the paperwork. He’s… he’s a sweet kid and he just wants to do a good job and I’m never going to be the one to tell him he’s not doing it.”
That tugged at her heart, “See. Sweet.” She took another sip of her drink and said it more into her glass than to him. “Plus, your smile is really cute and that’s not hurting your case.”
He sat up straighter, smiling at her as if showing it off. “Thank you, I’ve been working on it for quite a few years.” He paused for a moment, tapping his glass against the table for a second before he cleared his throat. “Do you want to know one of the lives that painting lived?”
Her heart stopped and Kate tried not to freeze, “I’d be very curious to hear it.”
Anthony leaned forward, setting his glass down. “I um… I think I probably owe you that much.” He stared at his glass for a long second before he looked up at her. “My Dad bought that painting just before he died.”
Kate’s mouth fell open in surprise and her chest ached for him, “Anthony, I’m so sorry. If I’d known I wouldn’t have-”
“You didn’t know. How could you have known?” He gave her a wry smile. “You actually gave me every opportunity to tell you and I didn’t so I think that’s my fault as well. It sounds stupid but… That painting arrived a little while later and I looked at it and it… felt like he was still there. Just for a moment. I guess I wasn’t ready not to have him anymore.”
She reached across the table, gripping his hand tightly, “Well, I’m glad you have it back then. It’s not stupid, that’s part of the beauty of it.”
He smiled at her across the table, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up now and it felt like the start of something. “Do you feel even a little bad for taking it off me?”
“Obviously! But also; You should have checked the paperwork.” She teased him, her fingers still gripping his.
“So that’s you is it? A sister, a dog and always right?”
Kate sighed, leaning back and picking up her drink with her free hand. “Sorry for having great tits and correct opinions.”
His laugh rang around the room again and his eyes shined at her, “I’ll drink to that.” He paused before he went on. “So, any dietary restrictions I should know about for dinner tomorrow?”
She raised her eyebrows, “You still want to have dinner?”
He grinned at her, his eyes sparkling in the light “I’m going to be honest with you: You are absolutely fucking beautiful and you read me to fucking filth and you’re ballsy as hell. So… I want a chance to know you properly.”
Kate’s stomach fluttered as she nodded, “Okay, dinner then.”
___________________________
“You have a delivery.”
Kate blinked at The assistant that had just entered the room, her brow furrowed. “Do I?”
She stared as the woman stepped forward and left A bag on her desk, the letters silver.
Cartier
Kate’s heart stopped. She shouldn’t open it. She should send it away. But her fingers shook as she tugged at the ribbon and then as she opened the envelope.
Sorry, not sure if this is the one you wanted. I suppose you’ll have to tell me tonight if you want another one.
-Anthony
Kate stared at the red cord bracelet three rings of gold interlocked together in the middle. She took a deep shuddering breath before she took out her phone, dialling the number she’d taken from him last night as he’d left her outside her flat with nothing but the press of his lips on her cheek.
“Ah, I see you got my gift.” He answered at the first ring, a smug smile in his voice that she could see in her mind’s eye, written all over his face.
“I did.” Her finger ran over it as she sunk back in her chair.
“I would have bought something even more ostentatious but you strike me as a more understated sort of person. Was I right?”
“It’s beautiful. You were right, you have excellent taste.”
Anthony hummed a little smugly on the other end of the phone, “Well, that we already knew. I can’t wait to see it on you at dinner. See how right I was.”
“You know you have to take this back right?” Kate laughed, more than a little incredulous at how charming she found him. “You know I can’t let you buy me this after one drink.”
“I don’t know that at all, actually.” Anthony said confidently. “And the fine people at Cartier have very strict instructions to in fact give you a super expensive tennis bracelet if you try to return this one.” He clicked his tongue, “So you should keep it.”
“I really can’t keep it.”
“You know, you could keep it if you were my girlfriend.”
Kate’s stomach dropped, and she laughed again, “I can’t be your girlfriend after I stole a painting and had one drink with you.”
“Aha! So you admit you stole it.”
“I’ll admit to nothing except the fact that I’m not your girlfriend. But I am looking forward to seeing you for dinner.”
She heard him sigh, “I’ll convince you tonight then. Speaking if which, do you need a dress or…?”
“I thought I’d show up naked.”
She heard him choke and a tiny squeak escaped him. “I could see those great tits then.”
“You could.” She agreed. “I guess if you were my boyfriend you could.”
“I’ll get there!”
“I have a dress Anthony, thank you though.” She slid the bracelet from box and slipped it on, her phone cradled against her shoulder. “I feel like I do have to state just one more time for the record that; You really didn’t have to buy me a bracelet. I was joking.”
“Are you already wearing it?”
Kate laughed again despite herself, “I am actually, how do you already know that?”
“Because we’re soulmates, Kate. It’s lucky Gregory drew me to you.”
“You’re insane.” Kate sighed, “Why do I like you?”
He hummed, “I don’t know but you do. I’m running with it.”