“What happened when he did?”
“Leo’s a good sport. He laughed. He told me recently he gets a kick out of watching people’s expressions when they spot the hidden picture. It’s very cleverly done, I must say. He never figured out that Roman was calling him a nasty name, of course. Men like Leo never do.” She shook her head. “Roman has more gifts than he knows what to do with, but he hasn’t found himself yet. All he cared about when he came into my gallery was getting the paintings on a wall and seeing if they’d sell. I told him a real artist doesn’t care what people think. He said if Michelangelo could prostitute himself, so could he. I told him he either believed in what he was doing or he didn’t. He said he didn’t believe in anything.”
That saddened Grace. She had noticed the restlessness in her employer, as though even the best of what he did brought no sense of accomplishment or satisfaction. He worked hard but never looked content.
“There was something about him,” Talia went on, “aside from how good-looking he is.” Her mouth tipped in a worldly smile. “Of course, I put his picture on every brochure. His face brings in the women, ones with money or with husbands who have money. The name Roman Velasco has a nice ring to it, too, don’t you think? Oh, so foreign and mysterious.”
Grace caught her meaning. “You don’t think that’s his real name?”
“Do you? Whatever mix he is, I don’t think he has a drop of Italian blood. Indian, perhaps; Arab, possibly. Black. Not that it matters. He’s not just beautiful. He’s interesting. Wouldn’t you say?”
“I keep my distance.”
“Probably wise.”
Why would Roman make up a name? Did he have something to hide? She pushed curiosity away. Whatever his reasons, it wasn’t her business.
Grace accepted Talia’s invitation to lunch. The waves glistened in the sunlight, seagulls rising and dipping on the wind. Talia talked about art, customers, travels. Roman’s ringtone came on: Elvis Presley singing “Big Boss Man.”
“Roman.” Talia laughed as Grace dug for her phone. “Yes, boss?” She grinned at Talia.
“Are you going to Laguna Beach today?”
“I’m in Laguna Beach right now. The painting has been safely delivered. Talia and I are just finishing lunch. I’ll be heading back soon.”
“You’re halfway to San Diego. Why don’t you come down?”
Grace froze. He must be joking! Talia’s laughter stopped, and she watched Grace. Embarrassed, Grace looked out at the sea. “It’s after two. It’d take me hours to get back.”
“Spend the night.”
“What?” Her pulse shot up. “No!”
His tone dropped. “I’m not asking you to spend it in my room, Grace.” He sounded amused. She felt the blush fill her cheeks. Talia noticed, too, and then he made it worse. “I can arrange for you to have a nice mini suite.”
Annoyed, she dumped caution. “No, thank you.”
“Don’t you want to see the mural?”
“Another time.”
“I won’t be here after it’s done.”
“I know.”
“Wow. That was cold.” He didn’t sound particularly upset.
“You asked for it.” Her own emotions were another matter. “Did you have an errand you wanted me to run?” She tried to keep her tone neutral, so he wouldn’t guess what his teasing had managed to do.
“No.” He ended the call.
Grace gave a soft gasp at the abruptness and stared at her phone. Shaking her head, she tucked the phone away.
“The boy can be exasperating, can’t he?” Talia had a speculative gleam in her eyes.
More than Grace wanted to admit.
Roman didn’t call Grace again. He caught himself watching the clock every afternoon around three, usually minutes before she called him. She went over his messages and whatever mail had come in. She asked how the work was going, but he couldn’t tell if she was really interested or just being polite.
Roman eliminated the lion eating the baby giraffe before Hector arrived to start the final protective coat. People stood around, watching them finish the work. The wall looked impressive. It was the best work he’d done.
Clearing supplies and tarps, he wondered why he felt vaguely disappointed, as though he’d failed to include something essential.
“You don’t look happy, se?or.” Hector spoke in accented English. He’d been improving greatly over the last few weeks, and Roman felt a twinge of jealousy.