“It does” Ori followed Lucia into her bedroom and sat on the bed while she packed. “I found this great little café today, overlooking the lagoon. It’s quiet, and I can write there. Lucia, this city is growing on me, I have to say. As well as the obvious beauty of the place, I like the people and the serenity”
“Ha.” Lucia snorted from the depths of her closet, “Wait until it’sCarnevaletime. Then you’ll change your mind” She dragged a huge suitcase out of her closet and opened it. “Eww, is that a mouse?”
Ori peered in. “No, it’s half an ear muff, you loon” She threw it at a relieved Lucia. “How’s the Bartoli Bonefest going to cope without you for a week? Rich boy’s going to have to get his own coffee”
Ori grinned at her friend as Lucia tried to look disapproving. “You are so mean”
“Haven’t you been the one to warn me away from him?”
“Just because I don’t want a nice girl like you to get hurt by Maceo doesn’t mean I’m not very fond of him. Under all the bullshit … well, let’s just say I think still waters run deep”
Ori was surprised, but didn’t say anything else. She’d spent the past few nights dreaming of Maceo Bartoli; if nothing else, he helped the nightmares stay away.
Lucia left a couple of hours later, with hugs and kisses and promises to call. And then Ori was truly alone. She felt weird banging around in the big apartment by herself and, since it was too early to call AJ, she decided to take her computer and go do some writing.
She went to the small café she had discovered and ordered coffee and gelato. Opening her computer, she launched her browser and checked the news in the States. Her stepfather was front page news again. Ori ignored the gnawing terror that Tyson Janek’s handsome face gave her every time she saw it, and read through the story. More women coming forward with sexual assault claims. God, the man was a monster. Her eyes scanned the rest of the story, stopping when she saw her name mentioned.
“There are few people in this world whom I trust,” Janek told a press conference, “but I know I can count on the support of my daughter, Orianthi, and my son, Adam James. They are the closest people to me” The congressman appeared emotional. “I love them with all my heart; they truly are the best of me.”
“Motherfucker…” Ori whispered to herself. God, he really was repellent. How much would it shock the world now to find out he was a rapist scumbag? Janek was entirely responsible for AJ’s staggering lack of confidence and his depression. Ori was angrier for AJ than for herself—AJ was Janek’s biological son, for chrissakes. She slammed the lid of her laptop down—a little too hard—and took a deep breath in.AJ is safe and well away from him and so are you, Orianthi. So are you.
She finished her coffee and settled down to work on her project. It was near dusk when she looked up from her work. She stretched and packed up her stuff.Home, a bath, food, and a good book. Sounds like the perfect evening.She was smiling to herself as she walked back slowly through the city. Her cell phone rang just as she reached the apartment. Lucia.
“Sweetie, I’m so sorry to ask you this,” Lucia sounded panicked, “but Maceo is having a meltdown. One of his customers is saying a painting Maceo sold him is fake. Is there any chance you could go the gallery and help him out?”
Ori saw her perfect evening go up in smoke. “Of course, honey. Don’t panic. I’m not a hundred percent sure what I can do though. I’m not an expert …’
“That’s the thing … Ori, we have this happen to us all the time, and when it does, I usually act the part of the art expert. Most of the time it works, and we don’t have to fly our real expert in from Geneva. So, if you could, you know, pretend …”
Ori started to laugh. “You are kidding me, right?”
Lucia chuckled. “I wish I was”
Ori sighed. “No problem. Look, if I’m going to look the part, can I borrow your work clothes? I can’t show up in jeans”
“Of course, anything you need. Thanks, Ori, I owe you one”
That was how, forty-five minutes later, Ori, dressed in a black skirt and jacket with her hair pulled back into a severe bun and her spectacles perched on her nose, marched into Maceo Bartoli’s gallery. She was gratified to see Maceo’s eyes open wide in surprise and saw him suppress a smile. He turned to the middle-aged man, who was eyeing Ori both suspiciously and appreciatively. Ori knew immediately that this would be easy.
In less than a half hour, the man went away that satisfied his painting was the original (It was. Ori, knew an original Kahlo when she saw it.) and Maceo was grinning broadly as he poured them some drinks in his office.
He handed her a flute of champagne. “Thank you, Ori”
“Anything to helpLucia,” she said smoothly but with a grin, and he laughed. He indicated her suit.
“That works”
She rolled her eyes. “If you have a secretary fetish, keep it to yourself”
Maceo shrugged good-naturedly. “Fair enough. But seriously, thank you. Man, you’d think my reputation alone would be enough to convince these people that I don’t trade in counterfeit goods, but there it is”
Ori considered. “Mr. Bartoli … I’m just guessing. Some of these men who come back to your gallery angry and bitter … would they happen to have attractive wives?”
Maceo’s grin was wide and completely unrepentant, and Ori had to laugh. “Oh, you really are a man-whore. Glad to help, Maceo, but next time, keep your pecker in your pants”
She got up to leave, but Maceo put up his hands. “Wait, before you go … Lucia tells me you’ve become fond of our city”
Ori sat down again. “I have. It’s beautiful and restful and serene”
