I grab my phone and type in his number, waiting as the call connects.
“Jasper Fairfax’s office. How may I assist you?” a cool female voice answers.
“Hi, I’m calling about an artifact I’d possibly like to have appraised with Mr. Fairfax’s assistance.”
“Oh, sure. What’s your name? I’ll put your details through and he’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”
“Cleopatra Blackthorn.” I hesitate before I give my full name.
“Blackthorn?” Even in New York, the name perks her up.
Sad, but nothing new.
In the art world, there are two responses to hearing the name Blackthorn.
You have the people who think of PopPop, his power and wealth and years of respected art collecting.
Then you have the people who think Dad. Gordon Blackthorn, failed sculptor, legendary grifter. Not someone you want to be associated with.
But from the cheery shift in her tone, I’m guessing she thinks Gramps.
“Wonderful, Miss Blackthorn! Thanks. Shall I have him call you on this number?”
“Yes, please.”
“He’ll be in touch as soon as he can.”
I hang up and stare blankly at the black screen.
I hate having to play coy when my mind hums with a thousand questions. I can’t just come out and admit I havetheHera Egg for obvious reasons.
I’m glad the family name has enough aura to make Fairfax return my call. If I wasn’t a Blackthorn, I wonder if she would’ve demanded more details before promising a response.
And I don’t have to wait long.
I’m two more names down my list when my phone buzzes on the desk with a New York area code and an unknown number.
“Hello?”
“Miss Cleopatra Blackthorn?”
“Speaking.” I tense.
“Ah, so good to speak with you,” a pleasant, refined voice says. “Thank you very much for calling. My assistant, Kyla, told me you have a significant piece you’d like my consultation on?”
“That’s right,” I say carefully. “Ideally, I’d like to bring it in.”
He hesitates.
I wonder if I’m asking for too much, too soon, all while I’m holding my cards close to my chest. Will anyone waste their time if they don’t know what it is?
“I must confess, I don’t often schedule time for a personal appraisal with everyone. However, Leonidas Blackthorn’s reputation speaks for itself. Are you calling on behalf of Scott and Elvira? I helped move a few items they inherited recently to auction.”
“Um, I’m from the other side of the family, actually,” I say weakly. I hope to God he doesn’t think about Dad. “Leonidas was my grandfather. I only inherited one piece from him, but it’s a beauty. Very rare. We’re talking possible unicorn.”
“I see. From his Far Eastern collection? The Japanese murals he acquired over the last decade were godsends for research.”
“No, this one is… a little hard to classify.” I’m being so vague it hurts. “But what does your appraisal process look like?”
