The Mistress(48)

Everything went smoothly at the restaurant the first week, the weather was warm, the garden was filled every night. The waiters got along. And the reservation book was filled, but not with more than they could handle.

The second week was more difficult, tempers frayed, the chef got sick for a day, and halfway through the week, on a Thursday night, Vladimir and Natasha came in. And although it shouldn’t have, seeing them together shocked him. Theo felt his stomach turn upside down the moment he saw them. He knew it was insane. She had a life with Vladimir and had lived with him for eight years. She was his mistress and claimed to love him, but when Theo saw them together, he felt physically sick. He stayed away from them all night, and assigned the headwaiter to them. And he finally had to face them when they left. Theo saw that Natasha averted her eyes and didn’t talk to him, so he chatted with Vladimir for a few minutes, who looked at him intensely with an unspoken message to stay away. He never mentioned the portrait, nor thanked him. And then they sped off in the Ferrari. And the moment they left, Theo stood on the pavement looking after them, feeling abandoned. It made no sense even to him. And Natasha clearly felt no connection to him and didn’t want one. She was taking no risks with Vladimir, and Theo had noticed that the Russian had watched them both closely for any telltale sign, but there had been none. Despite their friendly lunch in January, Natasha had been chilly and distant with him, as though they didn’t know each other. It was a strong message to him to keep his distance.

He locked up the money that night, closed the restaurant when everyone had left, went home, and drank half a bottle of wine, thinking about her and wondering why Vladimir was so lucky. He didn’t deserve her. Theo hoped they wouldn’t come in again while he was there. He took the unfinished portrait out and stared at it again. He could feel the obsession intensifying, and he didn’t want it to. But it had a life of its own and there was nothing he could do to stop it, except try to forget her. She was like a ghost who appeared in his life from time to time, and then vanished. But whether he saw her or not, she was always out of reach, and belonged to someone else. And he knew it did him no good thinking about her. His mother was right.

He was still asleep when the phone rang at seven the next morning, and when he opened his eyes, he realized that he had a hangover from the night before, and a nasty headache. He reached for the phone to answer it as he put his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes. It was his mother, and she was crying. He sat up in bed then, trying to figure out what she was saying. She was incoherent. All he could understand was that something had happened to Gabriel, and he was in a coma.

“What?” The connection from Italy was terrible. “Slow down, Maman. I can’t understand you.” He was shouting, and she only cried harder. “Did you have an accident? Are you hurt too?” He was panicked.

“No, he had a heart attack.” Theo knew Gabriel had had heart problems before, and an angioplasty, but this sounded far more serious if he was in a coma.

“Not while he was driving, I hope.” He was worried for his mother too, and concerned about Gabriel. It seemed bad from what she was saying.

“No, at the hotel. He thought it was indigestion, but it wasn’t. The hotel had to call an ambulance, and the fire department came. His heart stopped twice on the way to the hospital. I was with him. They used those awful electroshock machines, and thank God they got it started again. Oh God, Theo, and now he’s in a coma.” She sobbed for a full five minutes before she could go on again, or answer Theo’s questions.

“What are the doctors saying? Are you near a big city?”

“We’re in Florence. The doctors say it all depends on what happens in the next forty-eight hours. They said he might not survive it.” She sounded devastated. Gabriel had been her tower of strength for twelve years, and now he had crumbled.

“Are the doctors any good?”

“I think so. They want to do another angioplasty, but they can’t do it until he’s stronger.”

“Did you call Marie-Claude? Do you want me to?”

“I called her last night. She’ll be here this morning.”

“Do you want me to come, Maman?” Theo offered, wishing his head weren’t pounding on top of everything that had happened.

“No, you can’t leave the restaurant. Someone has to be in charge.”

“They’ll manage if they have to,” he said firmly. “If you want me to, I’ll come.” It was a short flight from Nice to Florence. It struck him then how life could change in the blink of an eye. Ten days before, Gabriel had been fine, and in high spirits when they left on their trip, and now he was in a coma and might be dying. It was a powerful lesson about life.

“Let’s see how it goes today, and Marie-Claude will be here.” Although Theo wasn’t sure how comforting she would be for his mother. The two women had never gotten along, and he knew Gabriel’s daughter resented the time he spent with her, and complained about it often.

“Call me later and let me know how he’s doing.”

When Theo got up and showered, he was angry at himself for being upset when he saw Natasha the night before. She was the mistress of one of the richest and most powerful men in the world, and said she was happy with him. Mooning over her, and wanting a woman he could never have was doing no one any good. And what had just happened to Gabriel was a warning to them all. His mother had treated him as second best for all the years they’d been together, possibly never even realizing how much she loved him, and now she might lose him. And he had been infinitely more loving to her than Lorenzo, whom she worshipped. If Gabriel survived, Theo was going to give her a stern lecture. And he gave himself one about Natasha. She had the life she wanted, with a man who seemed to suit her. And there was no room for him in the story, except as some kind of voyeur or lovesick boy. As he waited to hear from his mother that morning, he promised himself that he wouldn’t finish the second portrait of Natasha. He needed to get over her, not feed his obsession. Marc had said as much to him months before.