Bad for Business (For the Love of Crime #1) by Anna Grace EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Anna Grace
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 3.4 MB
- Price: Free
AMELIE
In a rare moment of stupidity, I’ve chosen my prettiest dress to scope out a
rather expensive painting.
You’d think I’d be able to better curate my outfits after twenty-two
years on this Earth, but I haven’t found that to be the case. Yes, I know to
always choose something neutral. I know I shouldn’t draw attention to
myself, but that isn’t fun! Sometimes I just want to wear a puffy pink dress,
regardless of how many people will see me.
Today, however, the goal is no one. Hence why I attempted to cover up,
at least a little.
It killed me to grab a coat on the way out of my apartment. Some dingy
leather jacket that Jensen keeps on our coat rack. I’d rather leave the house
naked than wear black, but I didn’t have time to find a better option.
The art gallery that I’m headed to—so creatively named The Gallery—
is only three blocks away. I’ve got about ten minutes before these heels start
blistering my feet, so I pick up the pace.
My plan is very simple: I get in, snap a photo of the piece, and get out.
It’ll make our work tomorrow go much smoother.
I pop my gum as I turn the corner. The line to the museum appears in
my field of vision, and I sigh through my nose. For a Tuesday, it’s a strange
level of crowded. Don’t people have jobs on Tuesdays? Normal jobs,
anyways. Not something like I do.
Whatever. It’s easier to stay hidden this way.
I wait patiently in line, fiddling with the rings on my fingers. A kid in
front of me is tugging on the hem of his mom’s shirt, asking for a toy out of
her purse, but she keeps waving him off until they reach the front. They pay
the fee and enter, and I dig a bill out of my purse to do the same. The man
near the door gives me a stiff nod as I hand him the cash and walk inside.
This building is one of my most hated places on earth.
It looks so sterile in here. Canvases line every wall—which I get,
because it’s an art museum, but it lacks a look of chaos. The pieces are in
straight, perfect rows, and they’re more classical than abstract. Most are
painted with brown or white acrylic; or, if you’re lucky, you can spot the
lightest shade of indigo.
My face is trained into what I hope is an amazed expression. I try to
appear somewhat awestruck, like I’m observing this place for the first time.
Like being surrounded by art is the most surreal experience of my life,
something I’d pay to do again on my own free will. In reality, I’m staring
numbly at these pieces. I’ve seen them too many times.
Only one in this building elicits any sort of positive emotion from me,
and it hangs to my left.
I’ve never looked at this piece for anything other than enjoyment. It’s
off-limits to me—I’d never take an offer on it. It’s the best one here, the
only good one in my eyes, and I will not remove it from this wall.
It’s simple, yet not.
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