“That's perfect.” I smiled. “And please, call me Ava. Miss makes me feel strange.”
“I've never really liked it either,” Charlotte admitted. We grinned at one another for a moment, feeling like we might be long lost friends after all. “I'll let you settle in.”
I went to the window as she turned to leave and looked out, taking a deep, happy breath. The mansion backed out onto a small cove. The sand was perfect and white and the waves small and calm. The sky was turning a deep shade of purple as the sun set on the opposite side of the island, causing the deep blue of the water to fade with the sky as it approached the horizon. It was absolutely stunning.
That, I thought to myself, not the house, is what makes this a billionaire's place.
I was just glad that Mr. Belrose didn't know that, or I would be out of a job.
Sunrise Kisses: Chapter 3
I closed the front door carefully behind me, listening for the subtle click to indicate it had shut. Dinner had been delicious, even if Charlotte hadn't been able to join us. Dad hadn't eaten much of the conch soup, even though he said it reminded him of Boston clam chowder. I had eaten more tropical fruit than a monkey, stuffing my face with papayas and mangoes fresh off the trees. It was practically a dessert.
I stepped out on the big front porch, taking a deep breath of night air. It was humid and moist and everything I needed right now. It wasn't home. I could be someone else here. I wasn't the dumped ex-girlfriend, or the local library book-nerd, or the daughter struggling to save her father's beloved antique business.
As my father's only child, I was the proud heir to his legacy. I loved working with antiques and running my father's business with my aunt and cousins. Dad had been attempting to wean himself off the appraisal circuit, but a recent arson fire had set him back. Due to a faulty sprinkler system at our company's warehouse, over five million dollars of art and antiques had been destroyed. Sure, the insurance companies were covering all of the damage, but the blow to our company's image had been devastating.
It didn't matter that Dad checked the security systems and fire prevention units daily. It also didn't matter that the fire inspector had declared both the sprinkler system and the cause of the fire arson. As far as the public was concerned, Fairchild Auctions and Appraisals had let five million dollars burn.
But I didn't need to think about that now. My mind was already planning and preparing for tomorrow. A quick tour from Charlotte had revealed that the mansion was even bigger than I had suspected. A family of fifteen could live there and never see one another except at meals, and even then that was only if they wanted to use the main kitchen. Every room was full of antiques and art. It was going to be a fair amount of work, but work that I was excited about.
Several paintings stood out in my memory as ones I couldn't wait to get a closer look at. Every room had art that made my fingers itch to look closer at. I knew my father felt the same way about the furniture. Even though this was technically work, it was work we were born to do. Getting to study antiques and art of this caliber was practically a vacation. I would have appraised this house for free, just for the opportunity to work with what I had seen on some of the walls.
Furtive movement caught my eye. I was standing on the edge of the big front entrance, but I had a clear view of the nearby kitchen doorway, and someone was struggling to get something out. Whatever it was, the package was large and the person was trying very hard to be quiet.
I frowned. Elijah had said to notify him of anything strange, but standing here in the dark, I had no idea how to get a hold of him. I bit my lip, trying to figure out what to do next.
The figure stepped into the light coming off one of the security lights and I could see that he had what looked like a hastily-covered painting. The figure glanced anxiously from side to side, as if looking for someone.
I had seen that look before. The night the museum I was interning at was robbed, I had seen someone from an upper window. The way the painting was wrapped, the careful movements, even the shape of the man was exactly the same as that night. I knew I had to do something. That man was obviously stealing a painting from the house.
Be brave, I told myself. Remember those self defense classes...
I didn't think. I just took a deep breath, and yelled my scariest, most alarm-raising shriek as I ran at the figure. Using every memory of watching Sunday night football games with my Dad, I planted my foot and brought both my arms up and under his. I let my legs do the rest of the work, pumping hard to push him backwards and up.
It would have worked if he hadn't been well over six feet and outweighed me. And if he hadn't been pure muscle. Instead of flying to the ground like a sacked quarterback, he shrugged me off like a lineman, barely stumbling and still managing to hold onto the painting.
“What the hell are you doing?” the man yelled at me. I wasn't sure how he did it, but he somehow got bigger scarier. It didn't help that it was dark and now the light was behind him, completely hiding his face.
“You can't steal that painting,” I announced defiantly, trying to regain my balance. Where are you, Elijah? I silently pleaded. I had been hoping my war-cry had gotten his attention. Now I just had to stall the robber until Elijah got here.
“Steal?” The thief sounded confused. “What in the world are you talking about?”
“You can explain whatever it is that you're doing to them,” I said smugly, as flashlight beams came jogging toward us. I could see Elijah and three other security guards coming at us at breakneck speeds.
Elijah reached us first. “Mr. Belrose, are you all right? We heard a strange noise.”
My stomach dropped straight to China. Mr. Belrose?
“I think so, but who the hell is this girl? And how did she get past you to fucking tackle me?”
He was royally pissed. And rightly so. I was so incredibly fired. My stomach dropped so fast, it went past China. It was falling to Pluto now.
Elijah shone the flashlight in my face, making me blink and blush. I couldn't seem to find any words now. I had been so brave two seconds ago, but now I was a stammering mess. I had just tried to take down a billionaire. I couldn't be more mortified if I tried.
“This is Ava Fairchild, Mr. Belrose,” Elijah answered. He waved the other guards off. “She's the appraiser you hired. She's harmless.”
I wished I still had enough courage to be angry about the “harmless” comment, but considering how easily I had been brushed off, Elijah was probably right. Mr. Belrose carefully set the painting down on the cement and looked at me. I didn't dare look up at him.