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He took a step back from the car, looking genuinely surprised. “Whew! We’re on the same page, then. Lead the way!”
I watched him walk over to his car and climb in, then turn around to wave before he shut his door. It wasn’t until I put the gearshift into drive that I realized my heart was pounding as hard as it had the night of Flynn’s accident.
Chapter 2
That first evening spent with Flynn established one clear thought in my mind—I was smitten. Maybe it was love at first sight, or infatuation, or a schoolgirl crush. It was that first rush of attraction where nothing tarnishes the glow, not even differences in culture, age, or financial status.
I hadn’t asked where he lived, guessing it was out of town. But he didn’t live far from me, in a house that was famous for its former occupants, a Motown star. The landscape lighting alone was noteworthy, the gardens having won awards that even a car wash attendant knew of. I wondered if he was interested in gardening or had just inherited them and paid someone to maintain the beautiful setting.
In the vast foyer, I couldn’t take my eyes off the artwork. He had copies of famous paintings mixed with original works of new artists. Then I saw Adele Bloch-Bauer’s portrait.
“The card you sent with the flowers,” I said, pointing.
“Yes. It’s my favorite. That’s a copy, of course.”
He explained a bit about the painting.I could see why it’s considered one of Klimt’s best works. The portrait, which took three years for Klimt to complete, shows Adele Bloch-Bauer, the wife of a wealthy Austrian businessman, in repose, decked out in sumptuous jewelry and a richly patterned gown of golden fabric that blends into her extravagant surroundings. That fabric—I wanted to touch it.
“Adele's expression and Klimt’s portrayal of her in the painting have led to speculation about a love affair between them, adding to its fascination,” Flynn said. “She died of meningitis in 1925. In 1938, Nazis stole the painting.”
“How awful. Where’s the painting now?”
“At a gallery in New York owned by the heir to the Lauder cosmetics company.”
I had a wonderful time eating pizza. We faced each other sitting cross-legged on the couch in his den with a chessboard between us. I beat him the first game, forgetting that I should at least attempt to impress the man as I grabbed his king in my fist and danced around the room yelling, “Checkmate!”
“Jeez! You’re one ofthose!” he cried.
I plopped back on the couch, holding my sides, laughing. “Sore loser! Let’s play again.”
I was out for blood, but he won fair and square, and I let him gloat. It was so much fun; I felt all my previous self-control slipping away as the real Bella Roman rose to the surface.
“You’re ruthless,” Flynn said, laughing. “How about a snack?”
Glancing at my phone, I was shocked by the time. “How’s it possible? It’s getting late. I’d better head home. My roomies will be worried.”
“Aw, don’t go,” he said, standing up after I did. “I haven’t had this much fun in a long, long time.”
“Me, too. I haven’t had this much fun in years.” I tossed my head. “Do you still want to see me tomorrow night? I’m being pushy…”
“No, you’re not! Yes, I’d love to see you. But why wait for the night? I’m off tomorrow, and I understand you’re supposed to be taking some time off, too.”
I hadn’t spent the whole day with a guy since high school.
“I guess we could. What would we do?”
“On my day off, I usually go to Ann Arbor to see my family. I really go to see my horse, but I have to be a dutiful son.” Then he looked away for a moment. “Wait a second. I just remembered something.”
He disappeared down a hallway to the back of the house but was back in a moment, holding a cleaner’s bag over a hanger draped with a familiar fabric. Then I recognized the dark blue floral sweater I had worn the night of his accident. It gave me a rush and a flash of heat.
The night of the accident, when I’d gotten him out of the car, I had noticed his head bleeding. I had quickly taken my sweater off and pressed it against the wound.
“The hospital gave me a bag of my belongings, and this was in it. I guessed it might be yours.”
I reached for it, suddenly embarrassed. “Thank you.”
“Again, I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you were there that night. I’m forever indebted to you.”
“Flynn, it’s okay. I hope there will be more to our friendship than that night.”
