Read Online Because of His Heart (For His Pleasure, Book 27) by Kelly Favor - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kelly Favor
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cell phone, wallet, pocket mirror, tissues, keys, moisturizer, a small paperback novel, a half-used roll of mints, lipstick, what looked like some crumpled up receipts, various colored hair ties, loose change.
There was nothing strange at all about the bag, other than the fact that it was probably worth more than most cars, and it had been left unattended at JFK airport.
Chloe shut the bag, although of course she wanted to snoop even more.
Then she proceeded to wait.
She checked the time and decided that a bag this expensive—not to mention a wallet and phone—wouldn’t be left for long. Whoever owned this stuff would be back for it.
And soon.
But as the minutes ticked by, Chloe began to realize that nobody was coming back for this bag after all. And that meant she needed to make a decision.
She scanned the surrounding area and saw airport security. An older man with a big belly who seemed to be studying his cuticles.
Not him. Definitely not him.
But each time she saw someone, she realized that she couldn’t trust them with an expensive item like this. Unless she stood there each and every step of the way, it would just be too easy for the bag to disappear.
And it would be worth it for whomever might decide to walk away with it.
She googled the price of this purse, and if it was genuine, it was just south of a hundred thousand dollars .
As insane as that might seem, and as wrong as she personally thought it was to sell a piece of cloth with some stitching for that kind of money—the reality was that this item was worth more than some people’s houses.
Chloe stood up, took a deep breath and picked up the purse as if it was her own. And then she proceeded out of the airport and got into a taxicab.
Normally, she’d have taken public transportation back to Brooklyn, but no way was she going to do that when she had this Birkin Bag in her possession.
----
H er tiny studio apartment was so small that she’d taken to calling it her cubby-hole. It was hardly big enough to fit a full size bed and television, bureau and bookcase. There was virtually no storage, and the bathroom was so tiny that she had to sit on the toilet with her legs crooked, because the piping beneath the sink stuck out and forced her to be seated almost diagonally.
But at least the apartment was hers and hers alone.
That was something.
She could’ve tried to live with a bunch of people in one of those wide open lofts, but she liked her privacy.
Chloe appreciated that fact as much as anything right now, as she got inside, locked and barred her apartment door, and then sat on the bed and opened the fancy black purse once again.
She felt like she’d come across a holy artifact, like something out of the DaVinci Code.
She leaned forward and put the alligator exterior to her nose and inhaled. It smelled both old and new, and there was a hint perhaps of the owners’ perfume. Chloe couldn’t be sure if it was her imagination or not.
Finally, she pulled out the wallet and unsnapped it, opening it and looking at the driver’s license.
The picture was of a beautiful young girl, which immediately surprised Chloe. She’d been expecting this to belong to a more established woman, but then again, this chick was probably born into money.
Still, the stranger pictured in the license had a quirky grin and her eyes in the picture looked perky and friendly. She was cute, beautiful even.
Her name was Grace Knowles and she was the same age as Chloe.
Chloe tucked the ID back into the wallet.
“Who are you, Grace Knowles? What do you do? Why’d you forget your hundred thousand dollar bag?” Chloe said aloud.
She did a quick Google search for the woman’s name.
Immediately, news items galore popped up, and Chloe realized that this girl was a serious player in the New York real estate scene.
She had only just gotten married to Liam Houston, and even ignorant Chloe had heard of the Houston family.
They were right up there with The Rockefellers
There was nothing strange at all about the bag, other than the fact that it was probably worth more than most cars, and it had been left unattended at JFK airport.
Chloe shut the bag, although of course she wanted to snoop even more.
Then she proceeded to wait.
She checked the time and decided that a bag this expensive—not to mention a wallet and phone—wouldn’t be left for long. Whoever owned this stuff would be back for it.
And soon.
But as the minutes ticked by, Chloe began to realize that nobody was coming back for this bag after all. And that meant she needed to make a decision.
She scanned the surrounding area and saw airport security. An older man with a big belly who seemed to be studying his cuticles.
Not him. Definitely not him.
But each time she saw someone, she realized that she couldn’t trust them with an expensive item like this. Unless she stood there each and every step of the way, it would just be too easy for the bag to disappear.
And it would be worth it for whomever might decide to walk away with it.
She googled the price of this purse, and if it was genuine, it was just south of a hundred thousand dollars .
As insane as that might seem, and as wrong as she personally thought it was to sell a piece of cloth with some stitching for that kind of money—the reality was that this item was worth more than some people’s houses.
Chloe stood up, took a deep breath and picked up the purse as if it was her own. And then she proceeded out of the airport and got into a taxicab.
Normally, she’d have taken public transportation back to Brooklyn, but no way was she going to do that when she had this Birkin Bag in her possession.
----
H er tiny studio apartment was so small that she’d taken to calling it her cubby-hole. It was hardly big enough to fit a full size bed and television, bureau and bookcase. There was virtually no storage, and the bathroom was so tiny that she had to sit on the toilet with her legs crooked, because the piping beneath the sink stuck out and forced her to be seated almost diagonally.
But at least the apartment was hers and hers alone.
That was something.
She could’ve tried to live with a bunch of people in one of those wide open lofts, but she liked her privacy.
Chloe appreciated that fact as much as anything right now, as she got inside, locked and barred her apartment door, and then sat on the bed and opened the fancy black purse once again.
She felt like she’d come across a holy artifact, like something out of the DaVinci Code.
She leaned forward and put the alligator exterior to her nose and inhaled. It smelled both old and new, and there was a hint perhaps of the owners’ perfume. Chloe couldn’t be sure if it was her imagination or not.
Finally, she pulled out the wallet and unsnapped it, opening it and looking at the driver’s license.
The picture was of a beautiful young girl, which immediately surprised Chloe. She’d been expecting this to belong to a more established woman, but then again, this chick was probably born into money.
Still, the stranger pictured in the license had a quirky grin and her eyes in the picture looked perky and friendly. She was cute, beautiful even.
Her name was Grace Knowles and she was the same age as Chloe.
Chloe tucked the ID back into the wallet.
“Who are you, Grace Knowles? What do you do? Why’d you forget your hundred thousand dollar bag?” Chloe said aloud.
She did a quick Google search for the woman’s name.
Immediately, news items galore popped up, and Chloe realized that this girl was a serious player in the New York real estate scene.
She had only just gotten married to Liam Houston, and even ignorant Chloe had heard of the Houston family.
They were right up there with The Rockefellers
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