On the way back to the archives, Patrick and Raven climbed the steps to the second floor and entered the Botticelli room. Patrick wanted a closer look at Primavera.
“I can’t imagine why Botticelli would change the hair. Mercury is supposed to be modeled on Lorenzo, one of the Medici. He had long brown hair.” Patrick stepped closer to the painting.
“Perhaps another patron commissioned the painting, then failed to pay. That kind of thing used to happen all the time.” Raven found herself gravitating to the figure of Zephyr, on the other side of the painting.
“Maybe. I doubt Botticelli would start the painting without a large deposit and a contract. I suppose he could have had a falling-out with whoever commissioned it first.”
Raven nodded.
Neither of them noticed the figure of Ispettor Batelli, who stood at the entrance to the room, watching them.
Chapter Nineteen
When Raven exited the Uffizi after work, she found Bruno waiting for her, handsomely dressed in a gray suit and blue tie.
She was tired and her leg was troubling her. But she pushed everything aside and walked to him, her knapsack on her shoulder and her head held high.
Bruno greeted her with a smile.
His smile faltered as she approached.
Raven traced the scar on her forehead self-consciously before balling her hand into a fist and lowering it. Clearly he’d noticed the change in her appearance. From the looks of it, he was surprised, if not disappointed.
“Hello.” He kissed each of her cheeks and motioned to her scar. “Are you all right?”
“I fell, but I’m okay. How are you?”
“Good. And your cane? Don’t you need it?” His gaze traveled to her legs, fixing momentarily on her scar.
“No.” She shifted her weight awkwardly.
His eyes moved to hers again. “You smell fantastic. Like roses.”
“It’s Jo Malone soap. My sister sends it to me.”
Bruno closed his eyes and inhaled. “It’s tremendous.”
“How’s your grandmother? I haven’t seen her for a while.”
He opened his eyes. “She hasn’t been feeling well. She’s been spending her days in bed and not eating. My mother is with her.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. She’s always been so kind to me. When I first moved into the apartment, she took pity on me and taught me how to cook. If there’s anything I can do, let me know.”
“Thank you.” Bruno gave her a warm look. “What would you say to a drink over at the Gucci Museum before dinner?”
“I’d like that.”
He took her hand in his and they walked across the Piazza Signoria to the Gucci Museum, which boasted an open-air bar under umbrellas. They sat on comfortable banquettes and enjoyed their Prosecco, while Raven told Bruno about her work in the restoration lab.
If Bruno continued to feel disappointed by her appearance, he kept the fact well hidden.
Yet, Raven was uneasy. His lack of regard for her previously, and the way the smile had slipped from his face when she approached, distressed her.
Of course, his reactions held far more weight since she’d admired him from afar, knowing she could never have him. To have caught his attention only to lose it would be painful. Raven subtly began to steel herself against that possibility.
Conversation between the two flowed easily and so it was hours later that they strolled the short distance to Gallery Hotel Art. Its restaurant, Fusion, served the best sushi in the city.
Although Raven had walked by the hotel on many occasions, she’d never been inside. Anticipation made her eager.
That was why she forgot that the building they were entering was the one in which Professor Emerson had sensed what he thought was a ghost.
Over dinner, Bruno was charming and attentive. He didn’t bore her with stories about his work—he was a banker—with Monte dei Paschi di Siena. Nor did he focus on the familiar topic of his grandmother, although he admitted she’d been trying to match them up ever since Raven moved into the building.
No, the conversation focused primarily on Raven.
Bruno asked questions and listened to the answers. He laughed when she said something funny and was gently sympathetic when she said something sad. They ordered several plates of food and shared them, while he chose a very expensive bottle of Brunello di Montalcino as an accompaniment.
In short, it was the best date Raven had ever had. But it was also the worst.
Bruno didn’t ask if she wanted to see his apartment or if she wanted him to take her home and spend the night. Instead, he offered to walk with her downtown before he escorted her home.
It was a first date. Raven probably would not have spent the night with him. Even so, she took his lack of initiative as an indictment of her physical appearance.
He held her hand loosely as they wandered the city streets after dinner.
Raven meditated on how handsome and gentlemanly he was. She did not think about the slight twinges in her leg and ankle. She did not think about her temporary demotion at the Uffizi, or of the strange discovery she’d made about Primavera, or about ferals, mysterious intruders, or the relic that had sunk to the bottom of her knapsack.
They admired the way the Duomo was illuminated against the night sky and sat with the tourists on the front steps. They talked about the approaching summer and the special events the city planned.
When it was almost midnight, Bruno suggested he walk her home. As they entered a deserted alley, he took her knapsack from her shoulder and placed it on the ground at their feet. Then he spun her in a circle, over and over, as if they were dancing. At the other end of the alley, he pulled her into his arms.
He whispered a few words about how he’d enjoyed her company.
She responded in kind.
Bruno smiled, his eyes darting to her lips.
He leaned forward.
Raven closed her eyes.