The Mistress(32)
“She’s a stubborn woman,” Theo said less kindly about his mother. “Do you think I’m ready for a show?” He was worried about it now that he had made the commitment.
“Of course. You have enough work in your studio for two shows.” He smiled at him. And the work was solid.
“Will you help me pick the right ones to send him?” Theo asked him.
“I can advise you, if you like. But Jean will want to choose them with you.” He didn’t want to usurp the role of Theo’s new dealer, and Gabriel was pleased for him.
The next day Theo flew back to the South of France, and as soon as he got home, he went through his studio and started putting aside the paintings he wanted in the show in January. He looked long and hard at the portrait of Natasha as he made the initial selection. He wasn’t sure if he wanted it in the show or not. The portrait was so private, and he didn’t want to sell it. He wanted to keep it and remember her forever, as a tribute to his brief obsession. He wasn’t haunted by her anymore, and two and a half months after he had last seen her, he was feeling sane again. Dreaming of an unattainable woman was no longer appealing—even the girl who had refused to have dinner with him in Cannes. He put her out of his mind too. And all he wanted to think about now was his upcoming show.
—
Vladimir and Natasha had left the boat and gone back to London in late August, after drifting from port to port all summer. His security concerns had finally relaxed again, and he no longer surrounded Natasha with a ring of bodyguards every time she went out. The people who had caused the problem were gone, and he never discussed it with Natasha again. And she stopped worrying about it when she saw that he was no longer worried either. It had been a strange interlude but it was over.
They had dinner at Harry’s Bar one night, and he told her he had a surprise for her.
“I’m going to build another boat,” he said happily, “even bigger than Marina. And I’m going to name the next one after you.” He looked proud as he said it, and she was touched. She knew how important his boats were to him, and how much he loved them. And it was a huge compliment that he wanted to name one after her.
“How long will it take?” she asked with interest. He looked excited about it.
“If everything goes smoothly, three or four years. Maybe longer. I’m going to have to go to Italy a lot, for meetings with the builders, to work on the plans and watch the construction, and to make changes as the work progresses. And there’s the whole interior to design too. And all the materials to be selected. You remember what it was like when I built Princess Marina.” He had just been finishing her when he brought Natasha into his life, and her launch had been an extraordinary event, and the president’s wife had christened her. It was exciting to think of his doing it again. It had been five years since Princess Marina was launched.
They toasted the new boat with champagne, and then he looked at Natasha. “That’s only half of the surprise. I don’t want you to be bored when I go to Italy to oversee the boat, so I want you to have a project of your own. I want you to find an apartment in Paris, somewhere around four or five hundred square meters. You can decorate it however you want. And we’ll have a place to stay when we go to Paris.” He knew she liked it there, and she went to the haute couture and ready-to-wear shows four times a year, and they always stayed at the George V. Now they would have a home of their own. Her eyes lit up when he said it, and he was pleased.
“Are you serious? You’d let me do that?” She looked like a child at Christmas.
“Of course. The Paris apartment will be your boat, and it will be finished a lot faster. You can start looking right away. I’m going to Italy for the first meetings next week.” They were both thrilled, and she could hardly wait to call a realtor and start seeing apartments in Paris. Five hundred square meters was a big apartment, and there would be lots for her to do. “You can look for a house if you prefer it, but I think it will be easier and more comfortable in an apartment.” And she agreed. Houses were so much more work. They had a big staff in London that they had to take care of, and the house needed constant repairs. She didn’t want to have to oversee it. She was more interested in the decorating, and he was giving her carte blanche to do whatever she wanted.
“When are you going to Italy for the meetings?” she asked, as she put her arms around him and kissed him. He was happy that she was pleased.
“Next Tuesday. I’ll be there till the end of the week.”
“I’ll start calling real estate agents tomorrow.”
She called a realtor she knew in London to get names of Paris real estate agents, and by the following afternoon she had started to call them. Two days later she had six apartments to see, and had appointments for the following week. Two of the apartments were in the sixteenth arrondissement, and one was in the eighth, which didn’t sound as interesting. There was another on the Left Bank, on the quais, overlooking the Seine, and there were two on Avenue Montaigne, which sounded perfect.
“Do you want to see them with me?” she asked him that night over dinner, and he shook his head with a broad smile. “This is your project. Your ‘boat.’ I’ll see the one you want me to buy. You have to do the legwork before that.”
“I can’t wait,” she said, ecstatic, and insisted on showing him the photographs on the Internet anyway. He agreed with her—he thought the two on Avenue Montaigne looked like the most interesting and luxurious so far.