Josefina hit redial on her phone, and Luke's anxious voice crackled through the speaker. "Boss, big client alert!"
Josefina raised an eyebrow. "Which client?"
"The one who dropped a fortune on your self-portrait last time. Well, he's back for more."
Josefina let out a sigh. A self-portrait, again?
"Luke, tell this guy I'm swamped. I have no time for brushwork."
"Are you turning down cash? Since when were you not in it for the green?"
Luke caught on quick. Josefina was notorious for her money-making hustle. If she was passing up this payday, something was up. He whispered, "What's the deal? Is the art collector your nemesis or something?"
"You're overthinking it."
Luke's excitement spiked. "Ever since I've known you, you've been the cash queen. No job is too big, and no fee is too small. What's the story this time? There's gotta be more to it, and I don't buy for a second there isn't."
Josefina leaned back on the sofa, cradling a glass of juice, and replied with slight irritation, "Luke, with that imagination, why aren't you writing novels?"
"Well, it's not Oliver, is it?"
Josefina paused. Busted. He guessed it.
"Wow, the world's richest man's got the hots for you. Can't say he doesn't have taste. You're top-notch, and him landing you would be his lucky day."
Josefina rolled her eyes. "You're too chatty. I've got stuff to do. Later." She ended the call and buried herself in her work.
...
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