Page 45 of Burning Caine
“When’s she coming in?” Sofia undid the jacket buttons and the top couple of the shirt. She smirked as she did it, always taunting, but always taking care of me.
“Who?” I raised an eyebrow in mock innocence.
She smacked the side of my head. “The pretty insurance adjuster.” She dragged the jacket off and walked to my private office to store it. “And roll those sleeves up.”
I folded my arms in protest and followed her into the office. “You said impressing women is what I do. Did you see her suit on Friday? I’m sure it was Prada. I must dress to match.”
She put a hand on her hip, shifting to lecture. “Gianfranco told me about the restaurant Saturday night. I thought you would be done with her.”
Shrugging, I closed the door behind us. “I’m stubborn.”
“Understatement.” She rolled her eyes and leaned on the desk. “Did you hear from Papa?”
As I shook my head, my phone rang. “Speak of the devil!” I placed it on the desk and answered on speaker.
“Ciao, Papa,” we said together.
“Antonio, Sofia! How are you doing today, my lovely children?”
I pointed to myself, taking the lead on the call, as I sat in the seat behind the desk. “Good. Did you get my message about your painting last night?”
“I did. Excellent news! You are very fast.”
“Grazie. What is the plan now? Can I tell the insurance adjuster her painting is a fake?” I picked up a pen from the desk and drew absently on the message pad.
“No.”
My pen stopped and my chest tightened. I thought he would say that but hoped otherwise. “Why not?”
“She’s there from Foster Mutual. Someone is claiming the insurance money for it. Assuming they know it’s a fake, that’s insurance fraud. Is the adjuster clever?”
I started sketching again, smiling. “Brilliant.”
Sofia shoved my arm, causing a stray line across the sheet. I looked up to frown at her, which she was already doing to me.
“Then if you tell her the painting’s a fake, what’s the first question she’ll ask?”
“How do I know?”
“And you’ll tell her your parents own the original, and she’ll ask…”
“So many things.” Leaning back in the chair, I stared at Sofia. I should have told Samantha the truth when I first saw it. “Why did I not tell her Friday? What am I covering up? Are we involved in the fraud?”
“Exactly. And even if we aren’t, any investigation could hurt the business.”
I blew out a long breath.
Sofia lowered her head toward the phone slowly. “Papa? Is there something else going on we should know about?”
“There is, Sofia. I’ll tell you when I get home, in person, not on the phone. But, you need to know, we can’t risk this blowing up. Antonio, you need to get to the bottom of it.”
“I do?” I sat up straight in the chair, looking at the flowers I’d drawn. The flowers from Samantha’s dress Saturday night.
“You’ve authenticatedLes amoureuxtwice now. You should have no problem proving hers is a fake. Go through the steps you would otherwise. Make sure the adjuster has everything she needs. Work with her to figure out who’s behind this.”
“Sì, Papa.”
His words grew sharper, the longer he spoke. “I left Roma because of this sort of activity and I will not tolerate it in my backyard. The message will be clear. I will not have our name associated with this.”