The Mistress(27)
Everything calmed down during the five days they spent in Corsica. Several of the crew members took her fishing, and she went swimming several times a day. Vladimir let her go sunbathing while he stayed in his office, in constant contact with intelligence services and the president of Russia, but a week after it had started, the problem was over.
Vladimir took her to Portofino, where they went shopping, and he took her to dinner onshore at a simple pasta restaurant in the port that she loved. They kept six bodyguards with them just in case, and she knew that they were armed. And then they went back to the boat. They had moved back into their cabin, and everything appeared normal except that their security guards were still carrying machine guns on the boat—just to be sure, Vladimir explained to her. “We’re not in danger now.” And she knew by then from what she’d overheard that five people in Russia had been killed in retaliation.
They floated around Portofino for a few days, and all the reports Vladimir got were good, and then they motored back to the South of France. It had been a frightening time. Ten people in all had been killed, the five victims and their five attackers. She was just grateful that she and Vladimir weren’t among them. But she knew as they reached Antibes that she would never feel totally safe again.
Chapter 5
When Gabriel came back to the South of France, he had a surprise for Maylis. He had planned a little trip for them to one of their favorite cities. He wanted to take her to Florence for a week, before the restaurant got too busy during the summer and it got too hot in Italy. June seemed like the perfect month to travel. The only problem for her was that she needed Theo to agree to take her place at Da Lorenzo, and he seemed to be working very hard these days. She had hardly seen him.
She called Theo as soon as Gabriel told her about the trip, and left it up to him.
“I’m so sorry to do that to you, I know you hate standing in for me. But I’d feel bad telling Gabriel that I can’t take the trip. Our trips together mean so much to him.”
“They should mean a lot to you too,” Theo scolded her, and for once he didn’t complain about working at the restaurant for a week. He was secretly hoping that Vladimir and Natasha would come in again. He said nothing about it to his mother, but he accepted willingly. His only caveat was that he was showing two of his paintings with a New York gallery, at the Masterpiece London art fair in late June. They wanted to include his work in their exhibit, although they didn’t represent him, but they might want to in the future. And he wanted to be there to see how they hung his work and the rest of the fair, and make sure his work was well displayed. It was a new gallery for him. He hadn’t signed a contract with them, but he was pleased to show his work with them.
“I promise we’ll be back in time,” Maylis said when he gave her the dates, and she was very grateful that he was willing to cover for her. And so was Gabriel when she told him the good news. She had bought him a beautiful gold watch at Cartier, to thank him for the painting sale he had negotiated, since he no longer took a commission, and he loved it. He loved everything that Maylis gave him, and as unaware as she sometimes was, singing Lorenzo’s praises, she was nonetheless very generous with him. And Gabriel never complained when she talked about her late husband, since he had loved him too.
Gabriel went to visit Theo at his studio, and immediately saw the portrait of Natasha on the easel. It was nearly finished, although Theo insisted he still had to add some final touches. It was a remarkable piece of work, and Gabriel concurred with Marc that it was one of his best.
“I think you’re ready for a show in Paris,” Gabriel said seriously. “In September, I want you to go and see the galleries I recommended to you. There’s no reason to wait.” Theo wasn’t sure but said he’d think about it. He wanted to see how his work did at the London art fair first. “You should exhibit at the Biennale in Venice next year,” Gabriel encouraged him, as he had done for his father so many years before. “You can’t hide your light under a bushel forever. The world needs more artists like you, Theo. Don’t deprive them of your work.” It was a lovely thing to say, and he was such a nice man, brilliantly knowledgeable about the art world, and a far kinder person than Theo’s father had ever been. Theo often reminded his mother how lucky they were to have him in their lives, and she agreed. Although it didn’t stop her from extolling her late husband’s virtues, many of which he’d never had, or her memory had exaggerated to an unreasonable degree. Lorenzo had been a great artist, but never a great man. Theo remembered it more clearly than she did, and Gabriel never said a word in criticism of him. He let Maylis have her fantasies about Lorenzo. He was happy with her, and other than always making him feel like second best, she was good to him too.
They left on their trip to Florence in high spirits, and Theo took over her place at the restaurant, greeting guests as they came in, and escorting them to their tables before turning them over to the ma?tre d’. And each night he checked the reservation book, hoping to see Vladimir’s name, but the week sped by, and he and Natasha never came in. He wondered if they were on the boat or someplace else, and had no way to know. And he feared that he’d been right, when he last saw her, that he’d never see her again. The portrait was almost finished, and the eyes were perfect now, and had the gentle expression he remembered so well. And her mouth was exactly as it looked, as though she was about to speak. Marc said that just from her portrait, he was falling in love with her too. Theo hadn’t admitted to being in love with her, but acknowledged that he was obsessed, which he insisted was different, and even more uncomfortable than love would have been. But he spoke of his obsession to no one else, only his old friend. He wouldn’t have dared admit it to his mother or she would have told him he was insane, and repeated her earlier warnings about not falling in love with the mistresses of fabulously rich Russian men.