“We cleared the air while you were asleep,” she said without explaining further, but knowing that Marie-Claude was now convinced that Maylis did in fact love her father, more than ever after their scare. Nearly losing Gabriel had been an eye-opener for them all.
Meanwhile, Theo had been running the restaurant for three weeks, and hadn’t been in his studio for as long. He was monitoring the books, running the staff, coordinating with the chef about the menus, calling the florist, and getting almost hourly reports from his mother in Florence. And they weren’t due home for another week. And when they got back, she would want to be with Gabriel at night. It was almost the end of May by then, and he could easily see himself running the restaurant for another month, and he wasn’t happy about it, but there was nothing he could do. He didn’t want to complain to her. She had her hands full with Gabriel, and had had a tough time herself.
And he groaned audibly when he saw Vladimir’s name on the reservation book for a party of five that night. It was the last thing Theo needed now, but he felt ready to face Natasha, and was determined not to let seeing her rock him again as it had before. She belonged to Vladimir, and Theo was sure he had made his peace with it at last. There was no other choice, and he had too much on his plate to think about her at the moment. Real life had taken precedence over his fantasies about her. And knowing how she felt about Vladimir, his obsession with her didn’t even make sense to him anymore.
He was braced to see her when Vladimir walked in with a group of men at nine o’clock. They arrived in a van, and he left four bodyguards outside. And Theo realized as he greeted him that Natasha wasn’t with him, which was almost a relief. The four men with him were Russian, and they looked like businessmen, although there was a rough quality to them. They were the kind of men Theo could easily imagine Vladimir doing business with, but he was noticeably much smoother and better dressed than the others. And Theo also knew that men like them were the power base of Russia now. For all he knew, they had the five richest men in Russia at the restaurant.
Vladimir gave him a pointed look when they walked in. Theo assigned the best waiters to their table, and sent over a round of complimentary drinks. All five men ordered vodka, including Vladimir, and they drank steadily through the evening. Vladimir ordered several bottles of two-thousand-dollar wine, and they finished it with abandon. And at the end of the meal they all lit cigars. Theo saw they were Partagás. And he sent brandy over for them. Vladimir looked pleased with the evening as they got up to leave. Da Lorenzo had become his new favorite restaurant. He stopped and said something to the others in Russian on the way out, and then took them into the house to see the paintings. Theo had no idea what he’d said, but it must have been favorable since all the men looked impressed when they came out. And Theo knew there were paintings Vladimir hadn’t seen before, since his mother had recently rotated some of them, and put some of her favorite paintings from her private collection on the walls. There were some exceptionally fine ones on display, and Vladimir stopped and said something to Theo as the others headed toward the van. Their eyes met again. There was a message in Vladimir’s that Theo pretended not to understand, like a warning of some kind.
“How much is the one of the woman with the little boy?” he asked Theo in a supercilious way. He had bought one of Lorenzo’s paintings. Now he was sure he could buy more. It was one of a series that his father had painted of Maylis and him as a young child. It was a lovely painting, and one of his mother’s favorites.
“There’s no price on that, sir,” he said politely. “It’s part of Mrs. Luca’s private collection, and very important to her. It’s really not for sale.” But since he had succeeded in getting what he wanted before, Vladimir was sure he would again, at the right price.
“We know it’s for sale,” he said to Theo conspiratorially. “The only question is the price.” And he was not using an intermediary this time, since he knew who Theo was.
“I’m afraid not this time. She won’t sell that one, or any from that series.” The others in that series were at the studio, but there were at least half a dozen very important newer ones on the walls. And the one he wanted was the one she loved most. “It has sentimental value for her.”
“She will sell it,” he said, his eyes hard as he looked at Theo, holding the cigar close to his face. Theo remained courteous and professional but firm, while there was something slightly ominous in Vladimir’s tone.
“It really isn’t for sale,” Theo said a little more strongly, “and I don’t think she would be ready to sell another painting so soon after the last one.”
“Call me tomorrow with the price,” Vladimir said to him with flashing eyes.
“There is no price,” Theo said, enunciating the words carefully, as rage sprang into Vladimir’s eyes, like a lion about to strike, and for an instant Theo wondered if he was going to hit him. It made Theo wonder if he had ever looked at Natasha that way. Suddenly Theo had become an obstacle between Vladimir and what he wanted, and nothing was going to stop him. Theo took a step back to protect himself, and with a growl of anger, Vladimir stormed off to the van where the others were waiting for him. The bodyguards jumped in after him, and they left. It had been an unpleasant moment. And Vladimir hadn’t been nearly as polite as usual, once he didn’t get his way about the painting. After the vodka, wine, and brandy, Vladimir’s temper was very thinly veiled. It accounted for how angry he had been at Theo about the painting, but there had been something more than alcohol in his eyes—there had been pure rage at Theo not agreeing to what he wanted and standing in his way. He had looked absolutely lethal, and Theo wouldn’t have wanted to meet him on a dark street. He was an enemy one wouldn’t want to have. And his previously personable exterior had instantly disappeared.
Theo was still thinking about it when he turned off the lights and locked up, and turned on the alarm, after all the employees left, and he drove home. He was relieved that he hadn’t had to see Natasha that night. He thought he was ready for it, but he was in no rush to test his new indifference to her, and he was sorry that Vladimir had chosen to come to the restaurant with his cohorts. They were an unsavory-looking group, and would have looked like thugs if one didn’t know who they were. Vladimir had covered his origins with a veneer of polish, but it had worn thin that night when he looked at Theo. They were an unpleasant lot, and he hoped they didn’t come back soon. But all that really mattered, he thought as he let himself into his house, was that Gabriel had survived, and they would be home soon. The rest were all the usual aggravations of running a restaurant and dealing with unruly, arrogant clients. And for once, Mr. Stanislas didn’t get his way. Theo smiled to himself. It was suitable revenge for Vladimir having the woman Theo wanted. The painting was not for sale.
Chapter 10