"A die-hard one. I just need to--"
"No." Sofia marched forward, a militant look in her green eyes. "You're officially off the clock. There's a function at the embassy that I'm required to attend, and I need to go and get ready. You're making me late."
"Oh." Saving the documents she had open on her desktop, she put away the files and locked the drawer. "I don't know if I'm in the mood to go out."
Taking her hands, Sofia looked her square in the eyes. "That was an order. I already instructed Carmen to lay out something appropriate for you to wear and draw you a bath." Amusement twinkled in her eyes. "I can hear that brain of yours working. Where the hell does she get off telling me what to do in mypersonal time?" She squeezed Antoinette's hands. "I'm being interfering because I happen to like you a lot."
The annoyance quickly turned to pleasure at the woman's words. "The feeling is of course mutual. All right, since you twisted my arm."
"Go and have fun."
*****
At first she had balked at the outfit Carmen had laid out for her. A shimmery silver jacket with navy blue dress pants. But now, she was happy she had decided to dress up. The gallery was state of the art and could rival any in upscale Manhattan that she had visited. The displays were astonishing, not that she expected anything less from a woman like Sofia. The woman thought of everything.
She had caught a glimpse of the place during her frequent runs to various places since she started at the beginning of the week but had never been inside. Now she was delighted to step into the narrow two-story building with its impressive display. The section for local artists was strategically arranged so that one could not help but notice it as soon as one stepped inside. And they were very good. Light watercolors, still life paintings,wonderful and translucent glass sculptures that made her itch to spend some of her hard-earned money.
She spied a painting of the palace and made a beeline for it. It was a good likeness, with the artist capturing the sense and serenity of the place.
"The assistant." The voice came from her left and had her jolting slightly. "I'm sorry, I did not mean to startle you."
She turned to see a dapper looking man wearing a charcoal pinstriped suit and a wide smile on his attractive face. "Luther Grayson at your service."
She took the hand offered and shook briefly. "You're American."
"Guilty." He beamed at her. "And you're Antoinette, the assistant who holds the coveted position at the palace. I'm the manager of this fine establishment."
"The displays are lovely."
"I was wondering when you were going to drop in."
His remark had her lifting tapered brows. "I saw you in the bank."
"I see." She turned back to look at the painting. "A very talented artist. A crippled young man who spends his days painting."
"He is indeed talented. I don't want to take up any more of your time. I'm sure you have people waiting to talk to you."
He laughed softly but made no move to leave. "That's your subtle way of telling me to get lost."
"Was I being subtle?"
His bark of laughter had her smiling in spite of herself.
"We Americans tend to be abrasive. It's good to be in the company of one." He touched her hand briefly. "I would like to show you around."
"That's not necessary."
"I want to tell you the story of how I ended up here. Please."
With a nod, she allowed herself to be guided over to the group of sculptures. "I was going through a bitter divorce and thought my life was over." He discreetly tucked a price tag around the back of a slim tapered swan. "I intended to leave after a week but fell in love with the place. I then went on a tour of the palace and was listening to the tour guide when Queen Sofia came along. I was dazzled by her incredible beauty."
"And you decided to stay right then and there."
He chuckled at her dry tone. Plucking two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter, he handed her one. "Not so easy. I saw her at one of the banks and was so distracted, I spilled my papers right in front of her. The embarrassment was acute." He took a thoughtful sip, his expression rueful. "I started apologizing profusely when she stopped me. She started talking and before I knew it, I was pouring out my sad story to her." He shook his head. "I could not believe I did that, but she has that effect on you."
"She does." Antoinette agreed with a smile.
"Then she was offering me a job. I had told her I managed a gallery in Soho, and she told me it so happens that they needed someone for this place. 'You can go back home and wallow in self-pity or pick up the pieces of your life and start over fresh.'" He smiled slightly. "I didn't hesitate."
