"Urgh..."

Helen had calmed down but snorted as Frank was flashing her a cheeky smile. "Yeah, yeah. You did good, getting us another company. But you're the one who just threw it at us without needing to do anything while any problems would fall back on me! Do you think I can deal with two major companies at the same time?"

"Well, you know what they say-those who can are always busy. That's my girl for you-she's always amazing." Frank shrugged, confirming that he would be goofing off.

Helen rolled her eyes at him, exasperated.

Vicky Turnbull called in the afternoon, teasing, "Did you know that you're on the news? Sliding down a falling building... That's so cool. Still, something's lacking-you should've been holding a babe like Helen in your arms while you did so."

"Ahem..." Frank rubbed his nose awkwardly. "Stop teasing me. Why did you call me?"

"Oh, it's nothing important." Vicky smiled. "I heard you're acquainted with Gene Pearce?"

"I guess. What, is something up?" Frank raised a brow.

"Yeah. He's organizing a charity auction after recovering from his illness, inviting many bigwigs of the east coast, and it will be held in Zamri."

"A charity auction?"

did a double take. "I

just informed too. It's next week, so I guess he didn't have time

him. He helped my parents establish a foothold in Riverton years ago." "Alright, I will." Frank

time catching up later-Vicky's face had

her facial injury was not that serious, or it would take months for him

fingers repeatedly on the table

should bring something worth bidding

mind, he told Helen that he would be going

street in West Zamri called Blooming Junction, where various antiques ranging from paintings to porcelain objects were

buy some quality antiques

sellers flocking together

another rule that Frank was aware of: on this

authenticity depended entirely on

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