by Riona Kelly
Michelle saw the hesitation in Lindy’s eyes, but then the smile. “Yes, that would be lovely. Seven o’clock then.” She offered him her hand, and he bent and kissed the back of it.
Michelle’s eyes popped wide. He kissed her hand! She should have taken a photo of that.
Marchant smiled at her, then went on about his business, walking away quickly with his attention back on the phone in his hand.
“Dinner? Really?”
“I know, Michelle, but it could mean business for me. If he really is an art dealer ...” She paused to flick the business card in her hand, then continued, “... I might be able to sell a few paintings.”
“Well, I’m not too enthused.”
“It’s only dinner,” Lindy said. “And it gives us a chance to see his villa. Maybe it’s spectacular.”
Michelle looked away, her thoughts on Roberto, and she wished he were here with her. “So, what’s on the agenda for tomorrow?”
“Two big things, my dear niece. We’ll go to the Cathedral, which is magnificent and houses a tomb for Columbus. And we’ll visit the Alcazar. That alone is the whole afternoon. Wait until you see it.”
As the sun cast its last rays on the plaza, Michelle turned to get a photo of the fountain with the fading streams of light on it. Then the street lights began coming on, and they walked toward a restaurant where her aunt proclaimed, “They have the best food in Seville.”
Located in a well-tended area of the city, Alain Marchant’s villa ranked with several large homes per block dominating the neighborhood. From the exterior, it looked like a fairly simple stucco, although big, square house with elegant wrought iron covering the arched windows and door entrance. Instead of the butler Michelle expected, a short, plump housekeeper greeted them with a big smile.
“Welcome. Please come in.” Her English was very good, with only a slight accent. “Señor Marchant will be down in a few minutes. You may wait in the main room if you please.”
She motioned them to the large living room on the right-hand side of the entry hall. Double doors, set inside a huge decorative oak wood arch with carved leaves and acorns on it, swung open to the inside where plump, comfortable-looking sofas and chairs sat on top of the luxurious carpeting. Paintings decorated the walls, and a few sculptures accented the room’s warm colors of creamy yellow, light brown, and gold.
Turing in a circle, Michelle’s gaze caught the large glass doors that opened onto a traditional-style central courtyard with numerous arches surrounding it. Lush gardens and shrubs, a fountain, patio, and grass beckoned the family to enjoy the outdoors.
Michelle sat on the loveseat facing the room’s entrance while Lindy went over to examine one of the paintings. After a few moments, she moved on to another, then a sculpture next to the wall. Michelle just took in the overall effect of the room, beginning with the high ceilings, trimmed with oak panels with more carvings in them. They suggested Marchant had a great deal of money and spent lavishly on the furnishings of this place.
Assuming dinner would be dressy, Michelle had chosen a light green sleeveless summer A-line dress to flatter her model-slim figure. She wore green sling-back heels, which were comfortable and fashionable. Overall, she felt it gave her a look of innocence to charm and warn their host.
On the other hand, her aunt had dressed with sophistication in mind. Michelle envied the dark blue cocktail dress that hugged Lindy’s curves and highlighted her assets to perfection. Flower patterned black nylons covered her long legs, and open-toed, high-heeled sandals completed the look. Around her neck, she wore a double strand of pearls with matching earrings easily visible as she’d pulled her hair up into an elegant French twist. Michelle admitted her aunt was a stunning woman and admired her taste in clothing and accessories. As she raised her left arm to touch the finish of a vase, her petite watch glistened with three twisted-pearl strands catching the light. One day, Michelle vowed, she would be as worldly as Lindy.
As Lindy shifted to another painting, Alain strode into the room, words of welcome pouring out before he even passed the entry.
“I am so pleased you’ve accepted my dinner invitation. I hope you do not mind, but I have invited a friend of mine to join us. Jose Cárdenas is an art collector, and I mentioned to him I was having the amazing Melinda Morton and her beautiful niece over for dinner. Well, you know, he practically begged to meet you.”
Lindy smiled, and her right eyebrow raised just a little, an indicator to Michelle that she was not totally pleased with this turn. But she said, “Well, it would be hard to say no to a fan of my work. I didn’t know I had many outside the world of science fiction and fantasy fandom.”
Marchant approached her, glancing at the painting she had been perusing. “Of course. Not all of your work has been book covers and fantasy canvases. You have done some excellent character studies and light illusion pieces garnering high praise in certain quarters.”
“A few,” she conceded and turned away from the painting. “But even those were done in preparation for doing a fantasy project.”
Alain went to the ice bucket and decanter set out on a side table along with glasses. “Might I offer you sangria before dinner? I even have a virgin version if your niece is not—“
“I would love a glass of sangria,” Michelle said. “I’m legal in Spain, I believe.” Her coquettish glance and sharp look challenged Lindy to dispute it.
Marchant glanced toward her aunt, who gave a brief nod of approval.
Alain dropped ice cubes into the glasses, poured the wine beverage, then topped each glass with sugar encrusted mint leaves and a fresh orange slice. Smiling, he handed a glass to Lindy, then Michelle, before raising his glass in a toast. “To fortuitous meetings. May they lead to good friendships and prosperous partnerships.”
He sat on the sofa at an angle to her while Lindy took the other end, far enough away to be out of touching distance and close enough for easy conversation.
As they drank, Michelle thought it was an odd toast, but maybe not from Alain’s view. Her aunt could become a client if she chose to sell some paintings through him. It occurred to her she didn’t know that much about Lindy’s business other than she created book covers, mostly science fiction and fantasy, although she knew she’d done a few contemporary romance covers. But she never thought she actually painted canvases. The skill was a dying art in the book cover business, but obviously, people still bought real, original paintings to decorate their homes and offices.
She had been excited by Roberto’s artwork but hadn’t given much thought to what her aunt did for a living. She admitted she hadn’t credited her aunt with the talent this art dealer now raved about. She’d never seen an actual painting her aunt had done, only the book covers.
As the doorbell chimed, a shortened version of “Ode to Joy” with just the first two bars, Alain set his drink on the low table and pushed to his feet. “I believe that’s Jose now. Please excuse me.”
Michelle glanced a little nervously at Lindy as Alain went to greet his other guest. She hadn’t counted on more people being at dinner, and she wasn’t comfortable with the idea. Her Spanish was almost non-existent, so she hoped the newcomer spoke English. She could hear Alain speak to him in Spanish as the conversation drifted in as they approached.
Soon, he showed the newcomer into the room and introduced him to the ladies, in English. “Jose, amigo. This lovely lady,” he paused to motion to Lindy, “is Melinda Morton, a very celebrated artist from the United States. And the other equally beautiful young lady is her niece, Michelle.”
He said her name with the French pronunciation, which made her tingle a little because it sounded so elegant, so foreign.
“My pleasure, ladies,” Cárdenas replied with a friendly smile. A little taller than Alain, he appeared to be a little younger also, although a few strands of silvery gray showed at the temples of his almost black hair. A few laugh lines crinkled the edges of his eyes, and she couldn’t help but notice the long, thick eyelash
es; any woman would envy those.
Lindy rose to her feet to accept the offered hand he thrust toward her, and Michelle noticed he shook it gently, not pumping like some men did. Then he brushed his other hand over the top before he released it as if to add emphasis to the moment.
“I am delighted my good friend invited me this evening. I am very familiar with your work. Believe it or not, I read science fiction novels, and your covers have drawn me to some books I’ve greatly enjoyed. But I have also seen some of your early paintings and love your style,” he said, the words flowing out with enthusiasm.
If this had been a convention, Michelle might have called him a fanboy.
Lindy was courteous, thanking him for the praise and asking him about the books he had read. “Oh, that’s an excellent one,” she said when he mentioned a cover. “I also read most of the books I illustrate. It helps me to capture the main characters or the setting if I can find the perfect scene in the novel.”
Alain poured a sangria for Jose as they talked and handed it to him with a slight smirk. “So, you have something in common. Excellent. But I believe dinner is ready for us, so if you follow me, I will show you to the dining room.”
They crossed the hall to the first door on the right, which he pushed open, revealing an elegant dining hall behind it. The table looked large enough to easily seat twenty people, but only the far end of it was set up for the four of them. Excess chairs had been removed to rest along the wall, and the remaining ones were spaced to give each of them plenty of elbow space. A cream-colored lace tablecloth covered a solid red one and called attention to the matching cream with red-accents china that gleamed under the six-armed chandelier.
Michelle caught her breath at the sheer opulence of the whole room. Wooden arches framed beautiful murals of the Spanish countryside. Wrought iron sconces featured globe lights, not turned on at the moment, but they looked beautiful. She had never been in a room so rich-feeling, and she felt like a country bumpkin. Her family was not poor, but they didn’t have this kind of luxury.
Lindy also admired the murals and the dainty china statues positioned across the sideboard. Unlike Michelle, her aunt appeared very comfortable in this setting. Again, Michelle realized how little she actually knew about her aunt and her success in the world.
Once they were seated, Alain rang a bell at the side of his plate, and a gentleman appeared with a bottle of wine in his hands.
“This is an excellent chardonnay from a winery I partially own here in Spain. It would be my privilege to share it with you all tonight.”
“We are honored,” Lindy answered and gave him a nod of thanks.
Once the wine was poured, the serving-man left and returned with the appetizer course, grilled shrimp on lettuce leaves with green grapes. As they ate, conversation slowed quite a bit, but Alain asked Lindy several questions about her work and if she had a project at the moment.
“I have one in the planning stages,” she replied. “I don’t do as many covers as I used to do. There are many more artists in the field, and the techniques have changed considerably. I still prefer to paint the images rather than relying on computers to fill in my colors and simulate brush strokes.”
“I concur with your assessment,” Jose said and raised his wine glass to her. “While there are many beautiful images created on the computer, they lack the heart of having the artist actually apply the paint. I guess that is why I am an art collector. I see the soul in the painting.”
Lindy returned the sentiment with a slight, enigmatic smile.
The next course arrived, a rack of lamb surrounded by roasted new potatoes, baby carrots, and kohlrabi. When she didn’t think about what she was eating, Michelle had to admit the meat tasted amazing and was so tender it practically fell off the bones. She just wasn’t keen on eating baby anything. Well, except for the potatoes and the carrots. Mostly she stayed silent during the meal and listened to the three-way conversation around her. When it came to discussing art, the only thing she knew was what she liked, and the little she’d learned in a few short days with Roberto.
After dinner, they retired to the living room again, where Alain started to pour glasses of brandy.
“None for me,” Michelle said. “I think I’ve had enough to drink for the evening. Would you have any lemon water, by chance?”
He nodded. “I am sure we do. I often enjoy it in the afternoon.”
After he handed the brandy to Lindy and Jose, he left the room to get the water for her. No bell in here, Michelle concluded.
“So, Jose, tell me about your art collection,” Lindy said and started the man off on another conversation about his art and how much he enjoyed looking at the paintings. “In fact, I am expecting to pick up a painting tonight, so we can ask Alain about it when he returns.”
“I am back.” Alain swept into the room with a glass of the requested beverage. “And did I hear your comment about your new painting?”
“I did. Do you have it yet?”
“There was a delay, and it has not arrived yet. I am sorry. But I will have it tomorrow, I believe.”
“Bad luck. I had hoped I might show it to Melinda. It’s by a well-known Basque artist, who took the art scene by storm over the past five years.”
Michelle watched as Lindy’s eyebrows went up. “Really? Who might that be?”
“Pablo de Sintra,” Alain answered. “He is an old man whose paintings began to be very popular in just a short time. He paints mostly character studies, and he has magnificent use of lighting and color. I have one in my small gallery here. Would you like to see?”
“Absolutely,” Lindy replied.
Setting his brandy glass on the coffee table, Alain motioned for them to join him. They left their drinks and followed him to the room next to the dining room. When he turned on the lights, they saw a gallery the size of a small room in the Louvre, which displayed about forty paintings of various sizes. Scattered through it, several cases highlighted small sculptures illuminated by soft base lighting.
“Wow, this is amazing,” Michelle said as she took in the full scope of the room.
“You have quite a collection here,” Lindy agreed.
“Yes, there are many excellent paintings. Feel free to look around. But first, allow me to show you the de Sintra.”
“Yes, please,” Jose interjected as Lindy nodded.
Alain took the lead again as they crossed to the other side of the room, Michelle trailing up the rear, to a medium-sized painting on the wall. As with all the paintings, an overhanging light illuminated the canvas to its best advantage. Even she could see the merits of the wonderful study of a young woman hanging clothes on a line in a yard. Behind her, two children played in the front of the back door of a whitewashed house. The colors were vibrant, and the composition very pleasing to the eye.
In fact, Michelle thought it looked really familiar. Roberto’s paintings had a similar look. She noticed her aunt stepping closer to study the canvas, watching as her eyes dropped to the signature at the lower right-hand side for several moments.
“I believe I’ve seen his work before,” Lindy said. “As I look at it, I recall an exhibit in a New York gallery that featured his paintings. It was about three years ago. I went to see what all the fuss was about. He is very talented. You are fortunate to be getting one of his paintings, Jose.”
He nodded. “Yes, I believe so. Although I confess, I would love to have one of your paintings. While the book covers are plentiful, the actual paintings seem to be somewhat rare.”
“True. I agree,” Alain said. “But I hope to convince her to make some available through my gallery. Shall I keep you in mind if she allows me to market a few?”
“Of course. I meant what I said.”
“It’s a possibility,” Lindy said. “But one we need to discuss another time. For now, I want to look at a few of these paintings, then Michelle and I need to be getting home. We have a busy day planned for tomorrow.”
“Ah, what
is on the agenda?” Cárdenas asked.
“We’re going to Italica to look around and perhaps do a little sketching.”
“Excellent choice. Might I offer my services as a guide? I know quite a bit about the history.” Jose’s eyebrows rose in a hopeful expression.
“It’s very kind of you to offer,” Lindy said, easing the rejection with a smile, “but I have other arrangements.”
“Another time then.”
Lindy shifted her attention to another one of the paintings that had caught her eye. A realistic-looking scene by a Spanish painter, Antonio Lopez Garcia, whose work she admired. In fact, she had one hanging in her home in London.
About fifteen minutes later, Alain called for his car to take them back to their hotel, and they bid the two gentlemen a good night. Once they’d climbed in, Alain leaned through the window to Lindy and said, “I would like to see you again to discuss marketing the paintings more. Perhaps I might meet you for dinner tomorrow night?”
Michelle blinked, wondering if he was trying to do business with her aunt or trying for a romantic liaison. She relaxed a little when Lindy replied, “I am not sure what time we will be back or if I will feel up to it after a day among the ruins. Call me about five, and I’ll let you know.” She slipped a business card into his hand with her cell phone number on it.
Alain gave a brief nod before he stepped back from the car to allow it to leave. Michelle kept an eye on him as they pulled away, then turned to her aunt and asked in a low voice, “What was that about? Do you want to meet with him again?”
“I may,” she whispered back. “But I’m going to check Marchant out before I do any business with him. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”
Chapter 14
Lindy swung the car into a slot in the parking area at Italica and reached for her sun hat as Michelle tucked her phone into the fanny pack she wore at her right hip. Since the Roman ruins were situated only nine kilometers from Seville, they hadn’t felt rushed to get there and had lingered over their rooftop breakfast. They didn’t talk much during the drive, although Lindy thought quite a bit about the previous evening's events.