Nanette proved to have a delicate hand with a cosmetics brush. She added layers to Ana’s mascara, a shocking red lipstick, and fluffed Ana’s curls over her left shoulder.
“You look so elegant,” the makeup artist exclaimed. “Let’s begin with this look.”
Lucien raised his hands in admiration as Ana returned to the living room. “You’re even more striking than I dreamed. The doors are so beautifully carved and painted, it will be easy to hide your cast in the photos. Take your pick of the shoes I’m showing in the fall.”
Shoeboxes were stacked to the side, each open to show a left shoe. Ana picked a black heel with a high lace vamp that hugged her ankle. “Let me go to the door before I put this on or I might not get there safely.” She moved to her place, propped her crutches against the wall behind the door, took hold of it and removed her flat. Before she could wiggle her toe into the party shoe, Lucien knelt at her feet.
“Let me help you,” he exclaimed. “Just like Cinderella. I always design my shoes with a princess in mind, and you’d make a lovely princess.”
She held her breath as he slid his hand over her ankle, but he quickly fit the shoe on her foot and stood. “Thank you. Do you want me to look as though I’m peeking from behind the door, or coming around it?”
Pierre stood back to judge. “She ought to peek, don’t you think, Lucien? Let’s make it saucy so all we’ll get is a hint of her figure and your magnificent shoe.”
Lucien moved back to be out of the way, but his glance remained on Ana. “We have so many ideas for poses, but I don’t want to tire you, so we might not finish today.”
Ana smiled as though it were no concern. The man’s shoes were gorgeous, but if he were a fan of Mapplethorpe’s, he could easily have backed Jaime’s nude project. Knowing how badly that had ended gave her chills. Suspicions weren’t clues, however, so a second day might be worth it to provide information Montoya could actually use.
Lucien checked his gold Rolex often, and at one brought the shoot to a close. “Your agent said you’d be available for two days. I want to dress you in bright colors tomorrow. I’m thinking red, or maybe greens and blues. Let’s talk it over while we have lunch.”
The dining table was set with white damask and crystal, and a chef waited at the head of the table. “I always bring Etienne with me when I come to Spain. I love Spanish food, but there’s nothing like familiar flavors from home.”
Pierre and Nanette disappeared together; the table was set for two. Lucien helped Ana into her chair and set her crutches aside. Etienne returned to the kitchen, and his white-coated assistant brought a soup tureen to the table and filled their bowls with a mushroom soup with a bouillon base.
“This is one of my favorites,” Lucien said. “Will you have wine now that you’ve finished working?”
“Thank you, but I prefer not to drink during the day.” She smiled as though she were sincerely sorry to miss whatever expensive vintage he’d chosen.
“Then I must invite you to come for dinner soon. You’re not wearing a ring, so should I assume the rumor you’ve married Alejandro Vasquez is untrue?”
He was an attractive man, and his teasing smile made him look harmless, but Ana remained on guard. “Our situation is complicated. Do you go out for walks in the park? The Museum of Modern Art is close.”
“I’ve been there. It’s an interesting collection, but I prefer the French museums. You must have been to France in your travels.”
“Yes, many times.” She kept silent about her mother and stepfather, and the conversation remained focused on art. While she didn’t prompt him, he spoke of Mapplethorpe on his own.
“I collect modern photography. Perhaps you recognized the Mapplethorpe photos in my bedroom.”
With his accent, he made the word bedroom sound like an invitation. “I did. He was a master of black-and-white and died much too soon. I’m interested in photography myself, and may someday turn it into a career.”
“Really, it would be a shame for you not to be in front of the camera.”
They were served a thick slice of roast lamb with small parsley potatoes and green beans. She sat back and stared at her plate. “I’m so sorry, I should have mentioned I’m a vegetarian when you first asked me to stay.”
“I had no idea.” Lucien looked up at Etienne’s assistant. “Please remove Miss Santillan’s plate and replace it with something she’d enjoy.”
“I’m so sorry. I should have spoken up earlier.” She certainly would have had she not been so distracted by her companion. At dinner parties, she could leave the meat on her plate and no one would notice, but with only two of them, Lucien would ask why she’d not eaten her lamb.
Lucien touched her hand. “Please, don’t be embarrassed. Too often I assume others enjoy what I do, and I appreciate a reminder to be more considerate.”
A new plate swiftly appeared with sliced fruit substituted for the lamb. She ate a green bean and exclaimed at the flavor. She hadn’t worn a watch because they were too often misplaced during shoots, but Lucien took such small bites she feared it would be late afternoon before she could leave for home. Etienne served heavenly berry pastries for dessert, but she needed heaps of whipped cream to swallow each bite.
When she at last said good-bye to Lucien, she pretended an interest in his limo, and memorized the license plate before he helped her slide in. She called Alejandro and spoke as though she didn’t care if the chauffeur overheard. “I’m finished working for the day and on my way home. See you soon.” She ended the call before Alejandro could question her, and he surprised her by being there when she reached her condo. He nodded to dismiss the chauffeur and opened the door of Ana’s building to escort her in.
“You needn’t have come, but now that you’re here, I need your opinion.” She went to the security desk and asked to see the security tapes she’d studied when she’d wanted to know who’d sent her presents. Henry recalled the dates and put them on the screen.
Ana held Alejandro’s arm. “Lamoreaux sent me several presents, including Romeo and Juliet. You can’t see the chauffeur’s face in any of the shots, but he doesn’t look anything like the man who just brought me home, does he?”
Alejandro leaned against the counter to study the images. “No, this is a taller man, broader in the shoulder and more muscular. He’s tucking his chin to hide his face. He could have been the man who came to the hospital.”