Sunrise Kisses (The Kisses 8)

I stood at my father's window, looking out at the gleaming ocean and wishing I was out there. No, I chastised myself, I wasn't looking at the beach. I was looking at Bastian.

I could see him just coming in off the water, walking across the beach with water dripping from his wetsuit in the morning light. I wished I could have seen that smile light up his face again as he greeted the dawn, but I had work to do. I sighed and he looked up, directly at the window as if he had heard me. I looked away, knowing that it was just coincidence.

“Are you listening to me?” Dad asked, cocking his head to the side. He was propped up in the massive four poster bed with more pillows than I think we had in our entire house.

“Yes, of course I am,” I responded, pulling away from the window. Bastian was inside now anyway. “You want me to report in every hour. I know how to do this.”

Dad frowned. I knew he wanted out of bed and to get to work. This was going to be harder on him

than it would be on me. He wasn't the kind of person who could sit still for more than five minutes, let alone lounge in bed when there was work to be done.

“Don't worry, Daddy.” I came over and kissed his head. “I'm going to go get some breakfast, and then I'll get everything ready. You'll only have to be bored for a few hours before I inundate you with work.”

“Paperwork,” he corrected me, but at least he smiled.

I grinned at him, turning to open the door. “I'll see you soon.”

“Hurry back,” he called out after me as I headed down the hallway.

I went to the kitchen and found a pot of fresh coffee. There was no french toast this time, but I found hard boiled eggs in the fridge and some cereal. It was a quick and easy meal before heading into the foyer where I had all my gear set up.

The light was perfect in here with the high ceilings and open windows. I picked up my camera and fired a test shot at one of pictures hanging on the wall just as Charlotte descended the stairs.

“I like that one,” she said, pointing to the picture I was aiming my camera at. It was a calm, pastoral scene with calm blue skies, green trees, and rolling golden fields.

“Me too,” I agreed, smiling at her.

“How much is it worth?” She came and stood next to me, looking at the painting.

“Only a couple hundred dollars,” I replied, taking another practice shot and adjusting the settings slightly on my camera.

Charlotte looked over at me surprised. It was a large painting, and in the same impressionist style as many of the other paintings in the house. “Why?”

“It's a replica of an Armaund Guillaumin painting,” I explained. “It's a fairly famous painting.”

“It's a forgery?” She sounded shocked.

I shook my head. “No, just a replica. It's pretty common for artists to recreate a famous piece of art and sell it. It's not a forgery as long as they don't try and pass it off as the original.” I looked back up at the painting. “The artists did a fantastic job, but since it's just a replica, it isn't worth very much.”

“Oh,” Charlotte said, looking back at it with a keen eye. “It's still beautiful, though.”

“Yes, yes it is,” I agreed. “Things don't have to be worth much to still be beautiful.”

She nodded and smiled at me. “How's your dad?”

“Grumpy,” I answered and she laughed. “He hates being stuck in bed. Throw in that he's now going to be responsible for all the paperwork while there's amazing antique furniture down here—let's just say he's a bit of a grouch.”

Charlotte nodded. “And what about you? How are you doing?”

I looked around at the foyer and the massive amount of work I had to get done. “Stressed,” I answered honestly. “But this-” I held up the camera and took another picture. “will keep my mind off of Dad, so it's all good.”

Charlotte played with her phone, flipping it between her fingers as she watched me work. “You two seem close,” she commented.

I nodded, taking another picture. “We are. It's been just him and me since my mom died, and then we work together at the family business. It means we spend a lot of time together.”

“I'm sorry,” she said quickly. I turned and frowned, lowering my camera.

“For what?”