The Mistress by Danielle Steel

Author:Danielle Steel
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2017-01-02T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

When Theo and Inez got up the next morning, neither of them mentioned Natasha again. They had exhausted the subject the night before. They had a breakfast of café au lait and croissants at a café nearby, and he told her he’d be free by lunchtime and would call her. And then he went to the gallery for his meeting with Jean Pasquier, to discuss how the show had gone, any reviews they’d had, and the sales of the night before. He had sold six paintings, which Jean said was excellent, and had a very favorable review in Le Figaro, which reminded Theo of what he wanted to tell him, since the art critic had been particularly impressed by Natasha’s portrait.

“By the way, I’m taking the portrait out of the show,” Theo said quietly. “I shouldn’t have put it in without the subject’s permission.”

“She was here last night,” Jean commented. “I saw her. You captured her perfectly. Was she upset by it?”

“Shocked, I think. I felt like a jerk not having told her about it.”

“You’re an artist. You can paint whoever and whatever you want.” Theo didn’t tell him that Natasha had offered to buy it. He didn’t want her to, and he suspected the gallerist would have. He was in business after all. But they both agreed that for a first show, it had gone very, very well.

“I’ll take the portrait with me today, and back down South tomorrow,” Theo said, trying to sound casual about it.

“I can ship it to you if you prefer,” Jean offered, but Theo shook his head.

“I’ll carry it. I don’t want it to get lost.” It was a reasonable explanation, and artists were notoriously paranoid about their work.

They talked about the show for about an hour, and Theo thanked him for doing such a good job and hanging it so well, and giving him such a great opportunity for his first gallery show. And then he left, carrying Natasha’s portrait, walked to Boulevard St. Germain, and hailed a cab. He gave the driver the address he remembered on Avenue Montaigne. He knew he couldn’t just ring her doorbell and show up, but there would be a concierge, and hopefully he could call her from downstairs and hand it to her. He wondered if Vladimir would be there.

The building was as fancy as he expected it to be in that neighborhood and particularly on that street, and it was small, with a single apartment on each floor, and some occupying two floors, like theirs. There were only six stories in the building. And there was actually a security guard outside as well as a concierge. And there was an intercom to each apartment. He buzzed where it was marked VS, knowing it was them, and a Russian maid answered. He asked for Natasha, and the woman went to get her, then he heard Natasha’s voice at the other end.

“Hi. It’s Theo. I came to drop something off.” She hesitated for a long moment while he waited, and then he heard her voice again.

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