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“How much?” she asked, intrigued now.
“Twenty thousand dollars. Though there’s a little leeway for the right buyer. The artist is local. He wants the picture to stay nearby, since it’s of the Capitol Building.”
She didn’t dare look at Michael, in case they both started laughing. Sothat’swhat it was.
“The Capitol Building is my very favorite place,” she murmured, touching Michael’s arm. “Can we get it, darling, can we?”
“I’m trying to work out if it’ll look good next to the Van Gogh,” he said with an impressively even voice. “I’m worried it will outshine it.”
She slid her fingers through his. “It’s so much prettier than the Van Gogh. And you can actually tell what it is, too.”
“Don’t forget, we just bought you a Mattise,” he reminded her, kissing her brow. “You’re so greedy.”
She smiled up at him. “I know, but I’m worth it.” She looked at the man, feeling bad now, because he was looking at them, confused. “We’ll think about it.”
“Don’t take too long. I’ve had a lot of interest in it.”
“I can imagine.” Michael nodded. “Everybody loves the Capitol Building.”
They saved their laughter until they made it outside into the heat of the Charleston afternoon. “I don’t believe it,” Grace said, when she’d finally got it out of her system. “Twenty thousand dollars for a rectangle. Who pays that kind of money out?”
“I just sold a football player for thirty million.”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s different. And you didn’t sell him. You negotiated his contract.”
Michael shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. Price is in the eye of the beholder. How much would you pay for a horse?”
“Horses are useful. They do things.”
“What things?” He put his hand on the small of her back, leading her into the shade of an old tree. She could already feel the sweat trickling down her neck. They’d have to get inside soon, or at least take a break for a drink.
“They carry things. People. Help farm the land.”
“How much farming has Arcadia done?” He was still smiling, and she liked it. She’d never seen him this relaxed. This lighthearted.
“He’s special. A thoroughbred. They don’t work, they exist.”
“Like the royalty of the horse genus.”
“Something like that.” She shrugged. “I still think he’s worth more than a rectangle, though. It didn’t even look like the Capitol Building.”
They both looked over at the golden dome of the building in the distance. It was glinting in the sunlight.
“It’s not even rectangular either,” he murmured, kissing her again. She looped her arms around him, pressing her body against his.
“Can we go back to the hotel yet?” he asked.
“Not yet.” She curled her fingers around his neck. “I want to show you my grandma’s house.” Not that it was her grandma’s anymore. But once upon a time it had belonged to her father’s family. Her grandma had died years ago, and her uncle had sold it.
“You sure there’s nobody there who’ll recognize you?” he asked.
“The only uncle my dad talks to lives in Tokyo. He doesn’t keep in touch with his other brother and sister.” She shrugged. “And anyway, even if they recognized me, they wouldn’t know you.”
“True.”
“Come on. Let’s go see it.” She felt excited to show him something that was part of her. When she was a small child, she could remember playing in the yard, picking flowers and putting them in her hair. It had to have been at least seventeen years since she was last there, but when they walked around the corner, she felt it all coming back to her.
Her grandma had spoken French. As a girl she’d studied in Paris, and she’d shown Grace old yellowing photographs of her time there. The paper corners of the photographs folded and torn, as she talked about the grandeur of L’Arc De Triomphe, the dominance of the Tour Eiffel. The smell of the bakeries as she walked to college every day.
