Page 75 of This is a Kissing Book

The two women exchange a look, then burst into laughter.

“I’m not saying she has it bad, but she has it,” Wendy stage-whispers.

“Going, going, gone!” Carmen agrees with a flourish.

“I do not have anything,” I insist, but my voice comes out squeaky and slightly defensive. Then, clearing my throat, I add, “Except for a favor to ask.”

This gets their attention.

I take a sip of coffee, buying time to figure out how to phrase this without sounding suspicious. “I was hoping you two might be able to help me with something. I’m working on a project that requires historical documentation verification, and I need access to previous insurance information.”

Because these records are handled by a separate department with different login credentials, the system would show an audit trail of who accessed the files. It would leave digital footprints and throw up a red flag if Linc’s assistant did it, whereas it’s not out of the realm of possibility for this department to refer to the information.

Carmen raises an eyebrow. “I’m sure Linc would have access.”

Without revealing too much, I say, “There may have been a clerical error and because we’re the ones who did some of that paperwork, I just want to double check before …” I trail off.

Carmen nods. “We did help process some of those insurance valuations when we were covering for Leanna.”

“Oh yes, I remember those. Some of the numbers seemed off.” Wendy pauses, glancing around to make sure we’re alone. “Let’s just say I questioned my math skills for a while there.”

My pulse quickens. “What do you mean?”

“Some of the valuations seemed really high compared to similar pieces we’d processed before. But I figured maybe I was missing something, you know? We never have the full picture.”

But the one I have is starting to come into focus.

Carmen says, “I’ll email you what I can find by the end of the day and say hi to that big hunk-a-man upstairs.”

Wendy giggles and they both wave at me as I leave. But I don’t go downstairs. I pay a visit to Suzie in Licensing and Rights Management. A tech guy with a crush on her has access to the equipment I need, so I beg her to ask him in exchange for first pick of our interdepartmental fall activity. I’m banking on being tasked with organizing it again—Valerie, Mr. Andresen’s assistant’s PA, passed it off to me last year. I guess all the extra work people have asked me to do is paying off. Time to cash in.

That evening, I meet Linc behind the gallery at our designated time, my stomach a tangle of nerves and anticipation. The weight of the forged painting wrapped in brown paper in my hands is anything but conspicuous. The longer I hold it, the more it feels like I’m carrying around evidence of every bad decision I’ve ever made.

“Everything okay?” Linc observes as I approach.

“I’m fine. Just ready to get this over with.”

“You’re practically feral right now. All jittery energy and round owl eyes.”

“I think you like it,” I shoot back, surprising myself with the flirtation in my voice.

“Unhinged Jules is definitely growing on me,” he admits with a crooked smile.

It was one thing to sneak into the gallery—my original cover story was that I had low blood sugar and passed out in the ladies’ room before closing. Now I’m committing a real crime. I fear, like my father, my luck could run out.

“We won’t get caught,” I say, more to convince myself than Linc.

He runs his thumb over the penny in his hand. “Said every criminal ever.”

I release a shaky exhale. “We’re just borrowing the painting. It’s not like we’re keeping it permanently.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how the law works, but okay.”

Yet he’s aiding and abetting, which somehow makes me think this is legit.

I slip through the same window as before, my heart playing a dirge against my ribs. My guilty conscience makes me feel like I’m about to trip over a live wire and alert authorities about my deviance, but everything is the same as before—long shadows, eerily glowing exit lights, the outline of statues.

However, luck is indeed on my side, and within minutes, I’m carefully removing the original painting from its frame.