The Masterpiece

by Francine Rivers

  Bobby Ray didn’t want to leave. How would his mother find him if he left the apartment? He cried and screamed curses, kicking the back of the police officer’s seat.

  When they got to the police station, Mr. Talbot sat with him until a lady with sad eyes came. Mr. Talbot ran his hand over Bobby Ray’s head. “Take care of yourself.” Bobby Ray knew then he’d never see his teacher again.

  “I want my mother.”

  The lady nodded. “We’re going to try to find her. In the meantime, we have a safe place for you to stay.”

  Bobby Ray ended up across town with strangers. How was his mother going to find him? He didn’t argue or say anything. He ate what was set in front of him. He took the bath the foster mother said he should, put on the pajamas, and went to bed without a word. As soon as the house was silent, he put his clothes back on and climbed out the window.

  The police picked him up in the Tenderloin the next day, near the apartment house where he and Mama had lived. Authorities sent him to another foster family farther away. The people kept a closer eye on him, but he still made his escape in less than a week.

  ROMAN MADE COFFEE and fixed breakfast for Jasper early Monday morning. He folded the omelet and slid it onto Jasper’s plate. Dumping the pan into the sink, he suggested they sit outside.

  “Not eating?”

  “Maybe later.”

  Jasper slid the glass door open. “It’s a bit fresh out there.”

  The morning mist hadn’t burned off yet, and wouldn’t for hours. “I can loan you a jacket.”

  “I’m fine.” Jasper finished the omelet and leaned back. “What’s on your mind, Bobby Ray?” He lifted his mug of coffee.

  “I’m not sure what I’m going to do next.”

  “Are you talking about art or Grace Moore?”

  “How did she get into this conversation?”

  “Is that what we’re having? A conversation?”

  Roman got up and went to the wall. Half-sitting, he looked back at Jasper. He shouldn’t have called Grace that night. He shouldn’t have laughed at her. “I think I’ve painted myself into a corner.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “I paint what sells. That doesn’t mean I like it.”

  “The work or the money?”

  Roman stood, angry. “Can we have one conversation when you’re not asking me a bunch of questions?”

  “It’s the only way I can get you to talk. I’m not here to tell you what to do.”

  Roman gave a hard laugh. “You’ve been sticking your nose in since the day I met you.”

  “You were a ward of the court and a royal pain when you arrived at the ranch, but we knew you were something special. Your art was a cry for help.”

  “I was hoping to get kicked out.”

  “Sit down, son. You’re making me nervous.” Jasper waited until he did. “You had something to say back then. You just stopped talking.”

  “Graffiti doesn’t pay very well.”

  “True. And it could land you in jail.” Jasper drank half of his coffee. “But that isn’t stopping you. The supplies in your studio, that back wall with a coat of fresh paint tell me that.” Jasper set the mug down. “You went out again last night.”

  “I didn’t do anything.” Roman had dealt with his emotions the way he always did. He filled a pack and headed for the city. He drove around for an hour before returning to the house, where he blasted the back wall of his studio.

  “Graffiti was always your go-to medium when you were stressed. What’s bugging you these days?”

  Roman didn’t duck and parry with Jasper this time. “I like the adrenaline rush. It beats putting a fist through a wall.”

  “You weren’t angry, Bobby Ray. You were burning up with jealousy. You didn’t like seeing Grace with another man.”

  Roman wanted to deny it. “It’s none of my business who she’s with. She works for me. That’s it.”

  “Why don’t you try getting to know Grace Moore as a person and not just an employee? I barely know the girl, and I like her.”

  “She has more walls than I do.”

  “All the more reason to find out what’s behind them. Just don’t bust through or try to climb over. Look for a gate. When you find it, knock; don’t pound.” He smiled slightly. “And wait.”

  “I’ve never had to wait before.”

  “If sex is the only thing you want, leave her alone. Grace isn’t the kind of girl who hooks up with a guy and won’t care when he walks away.”

  The door of the guest cottage opened, and Grace came outside and walked over. “Good morning.” She smiled at Jasper. “I was hoping I wouldn’t miss you before you headed home.”

  “I wouldn’t have left without saying good-bye.” He rose.

  Roman stayed seated while Jasper gave Grace a fatherly hug. Since when had they gotten so chummy?

  “It was nice meeting you, Jasper. I hope I’ll see you again.”

  “You will.” He grinned over his shoulder at Roman. “Unless our friend moves again and leaves no forwarding address.”

  They talked for a few minutes, and then Grace turned to go into the house. “I’d better get to work or the boss will fire me.”

  Jasper looked at Roman with a raised brow. “And I’d better hit the road, or he won’t lay out the welcome mat next time.”

  Roman followed them inside. Jasper headed for the guest room to collect his suitcase. Roman stood at the breakfast bar, watching Grace rinse the plates and put them in the dishwasher. “You’re still mad at me.”

  “I was furious, but I’m over it.” She closed the dishwasher firmly and straightened. “Now that I know I live next door to a Peeping Tom, I’ll be more careful.”

  “I wasn’t looking in your windows. You were standing right out in the open.”

  “An apology would be nice.”

  He’d never apologized to anyone in his life and wasn’t about to start now. “Let’s call it an error in judgment.”

  She rolled her eyes and headed for the office.

  After Jasper left, Roman had nothing to do. He didn’t feel like sketching or painting. When the phone rang, he made it an excuse to check in with Grace. She didn’t look at him standing in the doorway. She was still on the phone. Prince Charming? She glanced at him, wrote a quick note, and held it out. Talia. Do you want the numbers? He shrugged. “He’s right here.” She handed him the phone.

  All his gallery paintings had sold. He’d have enough in savings to take a year off. Maybe that’d give him time to figure out what he wanted to do. “Thanks, Talia.”

  Talia laughed. “Say that again. I’m not sure I heard right.”

  “You heard me.” Roman ended the call and handed the phone back to Grace. “We had a good night.”

  “Talia told me.” She had turned her chair and sat facing him. The phone rang again. Roman started to leave as she answered it, but she held up one finger. “That is odd. Here, you can ask him.” She held out the phone.

  “What?”

  “Talia says a police officer came to the show.”

  Roman took the phone. “What did he want?”

  “I’m not sure,” Talia answered. “He asked a lot of questions.”

  “About what?”

  “You. He wasn’t asking anything that others haven’t asked before, but it felt more like an interrogation.”

  He leaned against the doorjamb, pretending the conversation wasn’t anything important. “Probably habit. Did he buy anything?”

  “He was interested in your painting of the blackbirds. He asked if I knew anything about the bird. I told him I wasn’t an ornithologist.”

  Roman’s pulse kept climbing. He could feel the sweat breaking out. “When was this?”

  “When you disappeared into the men’s room. I was going to introduce you, but he got a phone call. I didn’t see him after that. Is there something I should know?”

  “About what?”

  “You tell me.”

  Roman force
d a laugh. “I don’t have any outstanding warrants that I know about. Maybe he likes blackbirds. Did he make an offer for the painting?”

  “Are you kidding? On a cop’s pay?” She’d sold it to a movie producer known for sci-fi films. The police officer was forgotten as she talked about several other important people she’d met.

  Roman told her he had work to do and handed the phone back to Grace. “I’ll be in my studio.”

  Still sweating from the conversation, he wished he’d never allowed Talia to take that painting out of the house. He’d been in a dark mood when he painted the flock of blackbirds attacking a grotesque man crouched and twisted in self-defense. He hadn’t intended to show the piece to anyone, let alone put it in the gallery for sale. Talia had seen it on his easel. She called it the most evocative work he’d done. Her assessment lifted the darkness and fanned his pride. He’d been poking the bear when he let her show it.

  A prickle of fear went up his spine. He’d wanted to be caught during those dark days. He’d wanted the Bird caged. Now, he had too much to lose.

  Maybe it was time to get out of town for a few days. After the San Diego mural and then finishing all the paintings needed for the show, he felt burned out. If a police officer was nosing around about the Bird, this would be a good time for a trip.

  Any chance Grace would come along with him? Doubtful. Not unless he came up with a good reason to have her along. But the idea of leaving her behind didn’t hold any appeal. Get to know her, Jasper said. He might find it easier if they were away from the office. Every time they started to have any kind of personal conversation, she used work as an excuse to retreat.

  He mulled over ideas until she came upstairs with messages. She glanced at his drafting table. “I don’t think I’ve seen a blank piece of paper there since I started working for you.”

  “I’m short on inspiration right now.”

  “There’s always the view out your window.”

  “Landscapes aren’t my thing.” But she’d given him the opening he needed. “Didn’t you have an inquiry about me doing a mural for some town in the Gold Country?”

  “I’ll get you the file.” She came back a few minutes later and handed it to him. “Golden. There’s not much information on the place.”

  He flipped the papers and handed it back. “I want to see the town.”

  “The gentleman who called will be very happy to hear that. I can contact him and let him know you want to make the trip. When did you have in mind?”

  “We can leave tomorrow morning.”

  She froze. “We?”

  “Yes, we. I figure it will only take a couple of days.”

  “A couple of days?”

  Clearly, she wasn’t as eager to be alone with him as he was with her. He figured Prince Charming was the reason. “You don’t have to repeat everything I say. And don’t call the guy and tell them we’re coming. The last thing I want is propaganda. This trip is about seeing whether I want to have anything to do with—” he glanced at the file again—“Golden.”

  “I can’t go with you.”

  “You’re my personal assistant. You’d be along to take notes and give your opinion.”

  “You’ve never asked for my opinion before.”

  “In this case, I’ll want it.”

  “Okay. Everything there is to know about Golden is in the file. It doesn’t look worth your time.”

  “I still want to go, and I want you along. You might see something I miss.”

  “You’re the artist! You’ll see whatever you want to see.” She looked shaken. “I’m not going on a trip with you.”

  He’d never seen her so agitated. Maybe she wasn’t as indifferent as he thought. He wasn’t going to jeopardize their current relationship unless . . . unless what? “I can see you’re uncomfortable with the idea, but I don’t see a problem. People take business trips together all the time. Didn’t you travel with your previous boss?” He could only hope.

  “Harvey was sixty-six years old and happily married.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, color flooded her cheeks.

  “So you object because I’m thirty-four and single.”

  “I can’t go, Roman. I have responsibilities.”

  “Such as?”

  “I have Samuel Friday night through Sunday evening.”

  “Let Shanice take care of her own kid for a change.”

  Grace’s mouth fell open. “I thought you knew. Samuel is my son, not Shanice’s.”

  “Yours?” Roman tried to take in this startling revelation. Grace was a mother? “No. I didn’t know. You didn’t tell me.” Grace must have joint custody with her ex-husband if she only had her son on weekends.

  She clenched a hand against her stomach. “Mrs. Sandoval knew. It’s never been a secret. Samuel is the reason I didn’t want to work so far away from Burbank.”

  “I thought money changed your mind.”

  “I have to make a decent living.”

  “What about alimony?”

  “I put my husband through college. He left a few months after he graduated. Thankfully, he didn’t ask for any.”

  Roman thought she was joking, but she looked dead serious. What sort of guy had she married? At least the guy cared enough about his kid to want to have him during the week. Another thought came. Maybe Grace was dating Prince Charming in hopes of finding a better father figure for Samuel. She wouldn’t be the first woman to see marriage as the answer to all her problems. His mother always thought some guy would come along and take care of her, but all they did was pay for her services. She sold herself cheap to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table. Some left bruises. One of them left her pregnant with him.

  Grace stood silent. She looked so ashen, he wondered what sort of expression he’d been wearing. He forced a slight smile. How many other surprises might he find out about Grace Moore on a road trip?

  “We’ll be back by Friday. Be ready to go early. I want to be on the road by seven.”

  “Where will we be staying?”

  “In a hotel. Where do you think?”

  “I meant, what town? Golden doesn’t have a hotel.”

  “Don’t worry, Grace. We’ll find a place to stay.” He held up his hands to halt the flow of objections he could see coming. “You’ll have a nice private room and bath, nowhere near mine.”

  “Can we discuss this, please?”

  He didn’t want to argue with her. “I have to get out of here.” He headed for the door. Maybe he’d go to the Getty. He hadn’t been there in a while. “Seven in the morning, Grace. If you’re not up and ready, I’ll come over and get you.”

  Strictly business, Roman said. Why did she have the feeling this trip was about anything but business? Lord, am I overreacting? Harvey had taken her to conferences. Patrick had thought it a great opportunity for her. Looking back, she knew why he’d been so eager for her to spend time away.

  What excuse could she offer Roman for not going? She wouldn’t have Samuel until the weekend. Just because she’d realized her attraction didn’t mean he had any ulterior motives. Though sometimes he looked at her in a way that made her wonder. Maybe she should talk with someone she trusted.

  Shanice understood immediately. “The fact that you’re asking what I think tells me you’re nervous about going anywhere with him. Has he given cause for distrust?”

  “He’s never made a pass, if that’s what you mean. He said he wants to see Golden.”

  “Okay. What are you really worried about?”

  Sighing, Grace rubbed her forehead. “I’m not good at reading men.”

  “Well, I am.”

  Grace understood her friend was making sad reference to her pre-Christian, club-hopping days. Even after becoming a believer, Shanice had seen nothing wrong with having a good time with friends at a club. All that had changed in one night.

  “You thought he was a player, Shanice.”

  “I shouldn’t have judged. I only met the man once. Just
because a man is good-looking doesn’t mean he’s a jerk like Patrick. You’ve been working for Roman Velasco for five months. You should have some idea what kind of guy he is by now.”

  “He’s a workaholic, and right now he doesn’t have a project.” He hadn’t even set up a fresh canvas on an easel.

  “Sounds like he’s looking for something to inspire him.”

  “That’s what he said.” Grace felt somewhat reassured. “I’ve never been to northern California.”

  “It’s beautiful up there.”

  “I’ve never been farther north than Fresno.”

  “Oh, honey, then go. If anyone deserves some R & R, it’s you.” Shanice let out a breath. “Forget I said that.”

  Grace knew why Shanice retracted her words so quickly. “I’m just nervous about spending all day with him.”

  “You spend all day with him every day.”

  “He’s in his studio. I’m in the office. We talk about what’s on the schedule in the morning. I go over messages midday and before I leave.”

  “Oh. Well. It doesn’t sound like you need to worry.”

  Everything did seem strictly business with Roman, but Grace had felt undercurrents lately. Especially at the show in Laguna. Maybe she was imagining something that wasn’t there.

  “Listen, Grace. If you find yourself in over your head again, call me. And I don’t think it would hurt to get a man’s opinion about this trip. Why don’t you call Brian and talk to him about it?”

  “I think I’ll do that.” If Brian really cared about her, he wouldn’t want her going off on a trip with another man. It might also be a way to find out how deep his feelings ran.

  Brian asked the same question Shanice had. After a brief and somewhat-disappointing conversation, he left it up to her.

  Grace called Selah to ask her advice. “Oh, that’s wonderful. It’s always good to get away and see new things. This is a great opportunity for you, chiquita. Enjoy yourself. If Mr. Velasco decides to extend the trip, just let me know. Don’t worry about anything. Sammy is fine.”