Wyatt swells himself up a little. “Dane knows better than to mess with this old boy.” But he winks as he says it.
“Oh my God!” I shriek as the words sink in. I jump at him, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Oh my God!”
He hugs me back. “Congratulations, babe!”
I pull back a little so I can see his face. “Thank you!”
“Does this mean you won’t be working for me?” Yuna asks, as the TV screen stays frozen.
“I guess not,” I say. Much as I like Yuna, the idea of working for her is a little scary. “But thank you for the offer anyway.” I fan myself, my heart racing with adrenaline. “Okay, um, do you mind if we see the statue?” I ask. It isn’t that I doubt Wyatt, but I just have to see François’s art for myself. Otherwise it won’t really feel real. Even as it is I feel like I’m walking on clouds.
“Not a bit,” Wyatt says. “We can go right now.”
Swallowing hard, I grab my purse, hands shaking, and say goodbye to Yuna.
I can barely sit still through the drive. The emotional upheaval of the last twenty-four hours is pushing my anticipation to a fever pitch, and my skin is prickling all over.
Wyatt parks the car in front of a very modern-looking building. Probably a temperature- and humidity-controlled warehouse. You don’t store art that costs as much as François’s works in a U-Haul place. We show our ID to security and walk to the unit Dane must’ve rented out.
I stand, shifting my weight, as Wyatt turns the key and enters the passcode. With a beep and a flash of green light, the door unlocks. He opens it. “After you.”
“Okay.” I step inside, my heart pulsing in my throat. I flick on the light switch, then gasp. What in the name of…?
The statue is indeed life-sized, but it’s hideous. A man is lying on his back, the skin of his chest and belly ripped open. A harpy is hunched over him, his heart in one of her hands and loops of intestine in the other.
My jaw drops, my mind whirring. This can’t be what Salazar wants me to get! He’s in love with Ceinlys!
“This is…art?” Wyatt asks, his voice barely audible.
I rush to the statue to check. Maybe Dane got the units mixed up. But no. On the man’s left foot is François’s mark—a stylized F and the month and year the statue was completed. This has to be Wife.
Oh. My. God. I cover my mouth with both hands.
“Is this really the statue Salazar wants?” Wyatt asks.
“Yeah. But I don’t think he knows what it looks like.” Or, at least, I hope he doesn’t. Because if he thinks Ceinlys will want this, he has another think coming.
“So…does this mean you aren’t getting the bonus?” Wyatt asks.
“I doubt he’ll ding me for it. He’s fair,” I say vaguely, more worried about what the statue looks like than my bonus at the moment. I need to save my boss from himself.
“I can’t believe Dane thought this would make a good housewarming gift.”
I nod, in complete agreement. This is what you keep in your house if you want nightmares.
I snap a quick picture of the statue, then start texting my boss. Suddenly I stop. I need to be cool-headed about this, regain my normal equilibrium. I don’t dump problems on Salazar. That’s not how I do my job. I always send him solutions or workarounds. I need to research a suitable substitute before delivering this particular bit of bad news.
Chapter Forty-Five
Kim
Our drive back is quiet. I think Wyatt is still stunned at the statue, that there are people who would pay money—a lot of money—for something like that. I just can’t believe François even made the thing. Doesn’t he have better taste?
Eventually, Wyatt tells me how he got the statue from Dane. Maybe he can tell I was curious about it. It isn’t easy to get anything out of the Icicle Hog.
When Wyatt’s finished, I sit up straight. “You interrupted a date night with his wife?”
“It was the only time I could track him down.”