Chapter 320

Andrew smiled. “Ms. Santana, you’re not just a skilled auctioneer, but an antiques expert. That’s impressive.”

Elsie’s face brightened, though she remained modest. “Mr. Lloyd, you’re too kind. My family has been in the antiques business for generations. I’ve learned a few things along the way.”

As they strolled through the plaza, Andrew said casually, “If anything catches my eye, I’ll rely on your expertise to evaluate it.”

Elsie smiled. “Feel free, Mr. Lloyd. I’ll be happy to assist.”

Feeling competitive, Francesca maintained a pleasant expression but commented, “There are so many antiques here—paintings, artifacts, and treasures. Can Ms. Santana really guarantee her knowledge of them all?”

Elsie replied calmly and confidently, “The world of antiques is vast and intricate. Claiming mastery over everything would be arrogant, but I possess a solid understanding of the market and considerable expertise.”

Andrew, impressed by Elsie’s humility and confidence, recognized her genuine expertise. Francesca, however, remained unconvinced. With a sly smile, she pointed to a yellowed painting on the ground. “I’d like to buy this. Ms. Santana, what’s your professional opinion?”

Elsie glanced at it, surprised. “Ms. Aicker, that’s a counterfeit. It has no value. Are you sure you want it?”

Francesca’s face flushed, but she persisted. Turning to the vendor, a man with a scraggly goatee, she asked, “Sir, how much? Who’s the artist, and what era is it from?”

The vendor grinned. “Miss, you have a sharp eye! This is an authentic masterpiece by Tom Hemmings. For you, 200 thousand dollars.”

Francesca smirked, turning to Elsie. “He says it’s a genuine Tom Hemmings piece for two hundred thousand. Still fake?”

Elsie shook her head and addressed the vendor. “This painting has no connection to Tom Hemmings or any historic era. But if Ms. Aicker wants it, I’ll buy it for her—100 dollars, take it or leave it.”

The vendor’s face twisted. “100 dollars? Forget it! If you don’t recognize its worth…”

Francesca chuckled. “It seems Ms. Santana’s influence doesn’t carry much weight here.”

Undeterred, Elsie showed the vendor her identification badge. “Are you sure?”

The vendor’s eyes widened. His demeanor shifted. He nodded and bowed. “Ms. Santana! Forgive my ignorance!” He chuckled nervously. “Forget a hundred dollars—how about 50? Cost price!”

The painting was quickly wrapped and given to Francesca. Elsie paid fifty dollars. “Ms. Aicker, still think I don’t know what I’m talking about?”

Francesca, confused and disbelieving, stammered, “Wait… He claimed it was worth 200 thousand, and now it’s fifty bucks? How could he ask for 200 thousand?”

Stunned, Francesca forgot about competing with Elsie.