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I blinked rapidly. "Oh no. I just determine if something is real or not and then make a report to the owner. Especially if they've had it on display or are going to lend it to a museum or something. It would be quite embarrassing to find something on loan to be a fake."
"What the fuck do I care?"
"Well, if it's just for your enjoyment, then most of the fraudulent pieces that I come across are art in and of themselves. Excellent replicas. They're good enough to fool the human eye. The level of artistry required for a good forgery is insane."
Jennings piped up. "Father, if you don't mind, I'd like to enjoy my date. It's difficult to do when your father is sitting right next to you."
"Yes, son. But you have a history of making poor choices in women. So I'm just coming to vet this one nice and early before this bitch takes you for your millions."
I shook my head. "I assure you, I'm not interested in your son's millions."
"I can see it written all over you. All women are greedy. And for someone of your background, obviously, my son is a step up for you."
Jennings pushed to his feet. "That is enough, Dad."
"What? You think I haven't looked into her poor family in South Africa? She got a scholarship here. I know who her family is, and well, you know how they are."
Jennings grabbed his father by the lapels. "I said, that is enough."
I blinked rapidly, aware that they were making a scene. My watch vibrated, letting me know that the phones had been cloned and tracking software had been uploaded.
I pushed to my feet. "I'll just excuse myself." I blinked rapidly, forcing tears to come to the surface. I grew up in South Africa. I'd seen enough bullshit in my life to have built a really thick skin. He'd have to try a lot harder than that to actually hurt my feelings.
I casually walked to the loo and placed my clutch on the counter as I washed my hands. The low voice behind me as someone walked out of the stalls had me grinding my teeth.
"Well, that was one hell of a dinner."
I rolled my eyes. "Gabe? Someone might have noticed you in here."
He shrugged. "It's a unisex bathroom." He gestured toward my phone. "Is that it?"
I nodded, and he pulled out another one. "It's an exact match. I'll get this one over to Rook immediately. Your thumb should open this one. Try it."
I did, and it was the exact replica to mine. "All right, let me get back."
He stopped me with a hand on my elbow. "You're okay?"
I forced myself to smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just another arsehole."
He gave me a brisk nod, and I headed out the door knowing one solid truth; the senior Tate was the problem. Everything we'd heard about him being vile and mean-spirited and cruel was true.
Did I believe that he would have his hands all over a criminal organization? A hundred percent. The question was, would I be able to prove it?
18
Tabatha
When I returned to the table, the senior Tate was gone.
Jennings was waiting for me. He stood when he saw me approach and gave me a sheepish smile. "I'm so sorry."
"You're not the one who should be apologizing. But still, I think I'm ready to go home."
He nodded. "I've already taken care of the bill. Let's go. I hope you'll give me the opportunity to take you out another time."
I frowned at that. "Ah, you know, this was a little much. We'll have to see."
On the drive back to my flat, the conversation was sparce. I knew what I needed to do. I needed to set boundaries for him, make him chase me, not be too eager. Which was one hell of a tightrope to walk.
