Eye of the Beholder

time and energy while she schemed to make her triumphant return to the art world.
    The shop specialized in inexpensive replicas of ancient, medieval, and gothic relics. She did a lively trade with the New Age and metaphysical types, as well as people who were-fascinated by the symbolism and pageantry of the past.
    She could not complain, she thought. She had even learned to take some satisfaction in the success of Elegant Relic. As Lloyd had promised, she had learned a lot about running her own business in the process. She had certainly come a long way since the disaster at McClelland.
    Like the replicas she sold, she was very good at presenting a false facade to the world. She could fake a cool nonchalance about her former career. But deep inside, the hunger to reestablish herself smoldered.
    Edward Vale and the Avalon Resort & Spa collection of Art Deco was her ticket back to the world she loved. She must not blow this golden opportunity.
    "What do you want me to say, Edward? You paid for my opinion on Dancing Satyr, and I gave it to you. You know I'm right."
    Edward pushed back the edges of his off-white jacket and planted his hands on his hips. He glared at the bronze statue. "Damn, damn, damn."
    "You should have had me examine the piece before you bought it."
    "I told you, there was another bidder. I had to make a decision on the spot." Edward groaned. "Who'd have thought that Forsyth would make a mistake like this?"
    Alexa said nothing. The professional opinions of dealers of Forsyth's stature were almost never questioned.
    "Damn, damn, damn," Edward said again. Alexa eyed him. "What are you going to do about Dancing Satyr? "
    "I don't know." Edward slanted her a sly, speculative glance. "I've got to think about it."
    A tingle of alarm zinged through Alexa. "What's to think about? It's a fake."
    "According to you," he murmured. Panic replaced alarm. "Edward, you know I'm never wrong about this kind of thing."
    His gaze slid away from hers. "No one is right one hundred percent of the time. If push comes to shove, it's Forsyth's opinion against yours. As the corporate art consultant for Avalon Resorts, Inc. I have every right to go with Forsyth's verdict. In fact, I've got a clear responsibility to credit his professional expertise."
    Alexa straightened abruptly away from the Roman column. "Don't tell me you're planning to add this piece to the hotel's collection."
    "Why not?" Edward's artificially tanned jaw set in mutinous lines. "It's been certified by no less than Paxton Forsyth himself."
    "Damn it, Edward, you can't put Dancing Satyr into the Avalon Resort collection."
    "Give me one good reason why it shouldn't be added."
    She took a step toward him. "I've given you the best possible reason. It's not an Icarus Ives. It's a fake."
    "So you say."
    "Yes, so I say."
    She was stunned to realize that she was on the verge of losing her temper. This was crazy. She had to watch her step or risk destroying everything she hoped to gain with this venture.
    Edward had every right to take Forsyth's opinion over hers, she told herself. As he had just pointed out, most people would say that he had a duty to take the reputable gallery's opinion over hers.
    This was business, she reminded herself. Her future was at stake. She must stay calm. The last thing she wanted to do was jeopardize her new working relationship with Edward Vale.
    They had known each other since her days with the McClelland Gallery. When she'd learned that he had landed the plum assignment to select the Art Deco pieces that would be installed in the new Avalon Resort, she had approached him with her offer to consult anonymously.
    Edward had leaped at the opportunity to take advantage of her expertise. He knew better than anyone else just how good she was at her work. On top of that, he had reason to be grateful to her. She had saved him from becoming one of McClelland's victims. He owed her, and he knew it.
    They had struck a bargain. She had been his secret consultant on the Avalon Resorts project. She had done all the work, but Edward would take all the credit, at least initially.
    If things went well and the reviews were favorable, he would leak the fact that she had assisted him on the project. The reviewers and others who considered themselves experts on the Art Deco style would not be able to retract their authoritative opinions without making themselves look like fools.
    Alexa's vision of her potentially rosy future shimmered before her. With luck