Page 20 of Ice To Meet You

Warmth crept over the back of my neck. “You think I have charm?”

Esmé shot me a look before Marianne’s voice grated across my ear drums.

“Esmé!” The woman approached, arms outstretched, staring atme. Her blood-red nails resembled claws.

“BonjourMarianne. How lovely to see you again! What brings you back to our humble gallery so soon?”

She continued to stare at me as she spoke to Esmé. “I was at a loose end, and I always enjoy the haven you’ve created here in the middle of our bustling city.”

“Well, you’re always welcome,” said Esmé. “Is there anything in particular I can show you today?”

Marianne’s eyes lit up.

She gave Esmé a fleeting look before returning her gaze to me. “Who’s this? Such a smart-looking young man. A budding artist, perhaps? Maybe an artist’s model?”

Her tinkling laugh ground against my nerves. I glanced at the door to the storage room. Was it too late to escape? I should’ve followed Maurice or Lola when I had the chance. But seeing the stoic look on Esmé’s face, my heart twisted. Surely, she deserved backup. A bit of support.

“Marianne, this is Matteo, my new assistant. Matteo, this is Marianne Rossi.”

The woman trailed her eyes over me, from my head to my toes. Her lips bowed. “How delightful. I can see from your shoes that you’re Italian or have a special place in your heart for leather.”

The way her eyes bore into me, I wondered if she was talking about footwear. Undeterred, I smiled. This could be mychance to ingratiate myself with Esmé—to gain her approval. Take the load off her shoulders like a knight in shining armour.

She’d already said I had charm. Like a champion of old, I’d wield it like a sword for her.

I smiled at Marianne. “Enchanted. And you’re right, I’m Italian.” I leaned in and took her hand, kissing her knuckles. Surely there was no harm in “over-charming. “I’ve come to work with the legendary Esmé Laurent. To bask in her general splendour and hope a little of her genius rubs off on this poor, humble farm boy.”

Esmé raised her eyebrows. Okay, so my expensive suit and the gold on my wrist and may decry my claim to be a farm boy. But my family did own a lot of land. We probably had a farm or two amongst the orchards and vineyards my grandfather was so proud of.

“How delightful,” Marianne said, her cheeks blooming. “Perhaps you can impart some of Esmé’s wisdom to me, then. I’d be happy for you to show me around the gallery, give me some titbits of information.”

Esmé snapped her gaze, first to me, then back to Marianne. “Oh, there’s no need. I always have time for you, Marianne, you know that.”

Marianne glanced down at Claudette, who still lay stretched out across Esmé’s letter tray. “But I can see how busy you are. Your big exhibition is coming up soon. You must have a mountain of work to do in preparation.”

Esmé’s eyes tightened a touch, and she opened her mouth to speak, but I stopped her.

“My pleasure,” I said, earning a glare from my boss. “Esmé has taught me so much already. I’m sure I can pass on some insights into the beauty hanging around us.”

Marianne’s smile blinded me. “Wonderful. And your French is so good. Though I speak a little Italian, I’m grateful.Now. Where shall we start?” As she spoke, she linked her arm through mine.

Esmé stepped forward, eyes as wide as plates.

I held up my hand in protest. “I’ve got this,” I mouthed to her, wishing she didn’t look so panicked.

With the slightest wink to my boss, I guided Marianne through the gallery. Lola had been right. The smell of her perfume was as thick as treacle. She clung onto me like a limpet.

“Tell me,” she said. “What’s your favourite painting here?”

My gut lurched. I’d been so knee deep in and trying to stay awake under Lola’s information onslaught this morning, I hadn’t had a chance to really look at the artworks. I glanced around the gallery, settling on a large abstract piece resembling a tablecloth after a toddler ate tacos.

“This one,” I said with all the conviction I could muster. “It’s stunning.”

“It is?” Marianne asked, her voice wavering.

“Absolutely. It’s titled, ‘Barren Earth.’ This watercolour was inspired by the artist’s battle with an avocado tree in his orchard.”

Marianne tightened her eyes as she ran them over the picture. “Really?”

---