CHAPTER18
Kari stood staring at Indrid’s gift. Her oldest friend had brought an antique French cabinet called a commode. The slender legs were curved, like the delicate steps a ballerina might make. The side panels and the two front doors were inlaid with polished burl. The top was sheathed in ormolu, the gold alloy carved with designs from the reign of Louis XIV. Kari’s living room was now redefined by this work of art, in the way that a beautiful painting might give meaning to a wall.
She felt herself filled with an eerie calm. She had expected to be shaking in her bones, knowing that she was about to put her newfound liberty and creative fire on the line. Instead, she merely flowed into the next moment. Speed-dialing Graham’s private line. Listening to his phone ring.
“Kari?”
“I think I should do this.”
“I need to sit down.” Silence, then, “Are you sure?”
“No. I’m a billion miles from certain about anything.” She breathed around the immensity of her words. “But it feels right.”
“Is it all right if I share this with Rafi?” Graham’s voice was unsteady.
“Yes.”
“Just a minute, dear.” He did not cover the phone, which meant she could hear Graham say the words, “We’re going to Miami.”
Rafi snapped, “Give me the phone.”
“Rafi . . .”
“Don’t you ‘Rafi’ me. I need to hear this for myself.” A long moment, and then Rafi asked her, “This is for real? Really real?”
“Yes, Rafi. Really, really real.”
His silence carried an emotion, an energy, something strong enough to cause her to shiver. Then a trembly, “Here’s Graham. And, Kari . . .”
“Yes?”
“Oh, nothing.”
Graham said, “We’ve been fielding calls every hour or so. The fact that you haven’t said no has had them dumping ever more chips on the table.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Kari responded.
“Incentives, dear.” Graham sounded eerily calm now. As if her own weird state had passed through the phone and infected him. “We are now up to your having the premier suite at the Ritz Carlton South Beach, and quite a nice one for us, as well. Private jet to sweep us all up as soon as you give the word. Hot and cold running limos.”
She heard Rafi cry from the background, “Ask her about the paintings!”
Graham said, “They’d like to include samples of your recent work. Your friend Dr. Anand was scheduled to have her painting delivered tomorrow. Your brother is moving and wanted us to hold his until he’s settled. We were wondering. . .”
“I’m sure Indrid will agree.” It was her turn to hesitate. “Would you mind asking Justin for me?”
“Not at all, dear. Anything else?”
“No. Well . . .” She stared at the hand stroking the purring kitten. Tiny flecks of paint rimmed one fingernail. “I have some works you haven’t seen.”
“You mean your current paintings?”
“No. Well, yes, those too. But I kept others back from the past two shows. I brought them to Miramar with me.”
A longish silence, then a very weak “How many?”
“Fourteen, plus those I’ve been working on here.”
“Oh. My.”
