The Collector
Page 98

“You can’t stay mad at me. I’m too charming.”
“I’m pretty mad.”
She shook her head, went to him, wrapped around him. “I’m very charming. And really sorry.”
“She kills people, Lila. For money.”
And fun, Lila thought. “I can tell you I was careful, but you weren’t there and can’t be sure. She had a big, stylish purse, no shopping bags and no heels this time. She never looked back. She moved like a woman who had somewhere to be. She’s either staying in that building or she was meeting someone there. We could call in an anonymous tip to the local police.”
“Fine and Waterstone are handling it.”
“So we just wait?”
“That’s right. And tomorrow we go see Bastone, as planned.” He glanced over her head at the shopping bags. “Are those all yours?”
“It’s Julie’s fault. We should release her and Luke. I know she wanted to check out some of the artists.”
“We’ll all go. From this point, we all stick together.”
“Okay.” Adjust, she reminded herself. “We stick together.”
They may need to look over their shoulders again, but Lila thought it did them all good to just go out, walk together, be together. They strolled along the bridge, with the river running below, so Julie could study and assess the paintings in progress, chat with artists.
Lila leaned against Luke. “I never know exactly what she’s talking about when she gets into art mode,” Lila commented. “And now, Ash either.”
“I can’t translate, but I like the painting they’re looking at.”
Lila studied the dreamy image of a courtyard, flowers spilling from pots, climbing madly up a rough plaster wall. A little drama played out with a small child, bowing his head over a broken pot, and a woman standing just outside a doorway, hands on her hips.
“She has a little smile on her face—just a hint of one,” Lila observed. “She loves him, her sad and sorry little boy. She’ll make him clean it up, then they’ll replant the flowers.”
“I’d say you understand a lot more than I do. But I can see Julie likes it, enough to look at some of his other work.”
“And we can’t neglect your work. We have to visit a few bakeries before we go back to New York. What a hardship that’ll be.”
“I went to a couple this morning. I sampled a cornetto al cioccolato I think I can duplicate, and I got a line on a couple of secret bakeries.”
“What’s secret about them?”
“You have to hunt for them—off the beaten path. Industrial bakeries,” he explained. “They start making pastries in the middle of the night for the cafés. They’re not supposed to sell to individuals, but they do—on the side.”
“A middle-of-the-night hunt for secret bakeries. I’m absolutely in. Julie said you’re going to open a second location. Tell me about that.”
She hooked her arm through his, wandered down the line of artists, canvases until, flushed with success, Julie joined them.
“I may have just changed a life. The boss gave me the go-ahead to sign him up—the kid-in-the-courtyard artist. It’s him—in the painting. Painted from memory, of his home, his mother and a little accident with a soccer ball one summer afternoon.”
“That’s so sweet. I love it.”
“His work has movement and tells a story. We’re taking three of them. The first thing he did—after kissing me—was call his wife.”
“Also sweet.”
“Fabulous foot jewels and a new artist.” With her easy laugh, Julie lifted her arms high. “My day is complete.”
Luke grabbed her hand and gave her a spin that made her laugh again. “Nothing’s complete without gelato. You up for that?” he asked Ash.
“Sure.”
“If gelato’s on the agenda, I need more walking to earn it.” Julie glanced back, then at Ash. “You liked his work.”
“You could smell the flowers, the heat, feel the mother’s amused exasperation and the boy’s resignation to whatever was coming. He paints with heart, not just technique.”
“I felt the same. He doesn’t even have an agent. I hope he follows up on that.”
“I gave him some names,” Ash said. “Once he comes down, I think he’ll make some contacts.”
“Do you remember your first sale?” Lila wondered.
“Everyone remembers their first.”
“Which was?”
“I called it Sisters. Three faeries concealed in the woods, all watching a horseman approach. I’d just finished it, working outside at the compound, when my father brought the woman he was seeing at the time over to meet me. She wanted it,” he said as they walked. “He said she could have it.”
“Just like that.”
“He didn’t get what I was doing, or trying to do, at that point. She did. She was an agent. I’ve always thought he brought her over so she’d tell me I should give it up. Instead, she gave me her card, offered to rep me and bought that piece outright. She’s still my agent.”
“I love happy endings—and gelato. I’m buying,” Lila announced. “A tangible apology for before.”
They walked to the park, wandered down the wide path of the Boboli Gardens. Ash steered her toward the pool where Andromeda rose and into the dusky green of plantings.
“Sit down there, cross-legged.”
She obliged, thinking he wanted a photo, then waved her hands when he pulled out his sketch pad.
“A camera’s faster.”
“I have something in mind. Five minutes. Turn your head, just your head, toward the water. Good.”
She resigned herself as Julie and Luke wandered off.
“He’s going to be a while,” Julie predicted.
“I know how it works.” Luke swung her hand up, as he had when they’d been teenagers, and pressed his lips to her knuckles. “It’s beautiful here. Let’s sit down a minute, enjoy it.”
“It’s a gorgeous day. It’s been a great day, even with the break for high drama. They look good together, don’t they? I don’t know Ash the way you do, but I’ve never seen him so focused on a woman the way he is with Lila. And I do know her. She’s crazy about him, and that’s a real first.”