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“No,” said Ross.Angel’s around Serena’s size. Same height and all.
“If I go to prison, Ross,” said Roman with narrowed eyes, “You do not have permission to move on my wife. I know you’ve had an interest before—“
“Excuse me?” Ross hooted.
“Well, nevermind. You know where I stand on that.” Roman cleared his throat. “Still coming tomorrow?”
“Something came up. I’ll be over next week.” Ross rubbed the sleep from his eyes. His pelvis and thighs ached from his lovemaking with Angel, something he planned to commence as soon as he got home. He had a whole night planned just to spend more time with her. After committing to this crazy course, Ross burned with the need to fulfill it. The truth was that Roman and his missing gold were far from his mind.
Roman looked down his nose at his baby brother. “Ross,” he said.
“Mm?”
“I love you, brother.”
Outside, a bluejay and a squirrel fought over the birdfeeder.
“Disgusting,” said Ross finally. “I love you too.”
They both laughed.
Through the high window Ross watched his brother leave, shaking his head.
After Roman left,Ross’s assistant came in with the file on Saturn Heights. Gertrude was a sweet middle-aged lady, related to one of the Baileys back in Florin.
“You should go home, lovey,” she told Ross. “Look at the state of you! I told you that Japan was going to make you frail. The Japanese don’t know how to feed strong Southern boys, I’ve always said so.”
“I’m fine, Gert.” Ross reached for his reading glasses. “Somewhere you want to be tonight, eh?”
“Me? No,” said Gertrude. “It’s you I’m worried for. You need to get out more. Bless your heart, all you do is work, and you’re a millionaire, you don’t even need to.”
She shut the door and left him to it. Ross went through the file on Saturn Heights with a fine-toothed comb. It seemed Angel’s old neighborhood had quite the reputation. Every word confirmed what Ross had already suspected. As he was leaving the office he gave the folder back. “You can shred this one, Gertrude, thank you.”
“The carbon footprint,” she tutted.
“That reminds me— I need these framed.” He handed her Angel’s sketchbook. “Give them to our friend Mr. Willis, he’ll know what to do. I trust his taste. Rush orders, if you have to. I need ‘em by this weekend, documented and photographed.”
“Anything else?” Said Gertrude, scribbling furiously.
“No, that’s it.”
“Is this for the auction?”
“Yes.”
“Rush orders…Procrastinating as usual…”
Ross smiled to himself as Gertrude flipped through the sketchbook curiously. “These are good, honey. How nice.”
“It’s for a lady; they’re not mine.”
“Oh my,” said Gertrude, lingering on one specific page. Ross knew exactly which one. “Is this you?” She squeaked.
“Can’t be— this sketch was made before our friend met me,” said Ross with a grin.
“But it looks just like you, Ross! He’s even got your freckles.”
Ross pretended to take the sketchbook back. “Alright, that’s enough ogling.”
