“I did?”
I nodded. “When we met and I told you my name, you asked if anyone called me Tory. The answer was no, but you rolled with it anyway.”
He looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I’d totally forgotten that.”
“No, don’t apologize. And please don’t stop calling me Tory. I like the fact that you have your own name for me.”
“Well, if you’re sure…”
“I am.” He smiled shyly, and I prompted him by saying, “Now, about your story. Is it both fast and furious?”
He chuckled and said, “It’s better than that. How much do you know about Formula One racing?”
“Ah, so you’re a famous race car driver.”
“No way. It’d be awful to be in the spotlight like that, but being part of the crew is awesome.”
“The pit crew? The people who run out and do two-second tire changes during the races?”
“No, the crew that works on the cars in between races to get them in top shape.”
“I see. What do you like about that?”
“Besides the nice paycheck and getting to work on those incredible cars, it’s like an extended family—all these people from different parts of the world, working together toward acommon goal. You’re also part of a bigger community made up of all the different teams, which is pretty great.”
I nodded. “What else do you like about it?”
“The fact that you get to travel to some pretty incredible places while you’re doing your job—Monaco, Singapore, Australia, Japan, you’re always someplace interesting. I used to bring my son to work with me when he was little. I always wanted to give him the world, and with this job I could literally do that.”
That last part was tinged with sadness, even though he kept a smile on his face. It occurred to me that even though this story was made up, it still revealed a lot about him. He’d said some things when he was drunk about wishing he could have done more for his son, and now here it was again. But he’d obviously done the very best he could as a parent, and it sounded like his son had ended up with a pretty great life. I didn’t know why he was so hard on himself.
I tried to keep him talking by asking questions, and as he elaborated on his story, something else struck me. It seemed like most people rewriting their history would invent a larger than life persona, not an anonymous guy working behind the scenes. When we’d first talked about this, he’d said he was looking forward to being someone new for an evening. But now, it seemed like he was holding himself back, instead of dreaming big. Maybe life had disappointed him one too many times, and now he was used to settling for less. That was the impression I got, anyway.
Once he finished his story, I said, “That was fantastic.”
“Thanks. Now tell me your back story.”
I’d liked this idea when I’d suggested it. It meant I got to keep my past to myself, and I didn’t have to worry about coloring Armando’s opinion of me. But now, I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t lie to him, even if it was all in fun and what we’d agreedto. I wanted him to know who I really was… and I realized in this context, I could go ahead and tell him the whole truth, because he wasn’t going to believe me anyway.
So I told him, “I’m an artist. My paintings hang in the homes of some of the richest people in the world.”
“Oh, nice! So, you’re famous.”
“No, not at all. What I am is a truly excellent forger. For nearly a decade, I worked with a pair of art thieves, who stole paintings throughout Europe and replaced them with my copies. That way, no one knew a crime had been committed.”
He laughed delightedly and asked, “Is this the plot of a movie?”
“No. It’s just my life.”
Armando nodded, a grin playing around his lips. “I love this story. It’s got crime, danger, international intrigue. All you need now is a Ferrari and a high-speed car chase, and it’s the perfect thriller.”
“I couldn’t drive a flashy car,” I said. “I liked living in London, but in order to stay there long term, I couldn’t attract a lot of attention to myself.”
“Right, that makes sense. So, what did your neighbors think you did for a living, since you were trying to lay low?”
“I told them I worked in art restoration, which explained my studio.”
He hadn’t believed a word of that, which was exactly what was supposed to happen. Even so, it felt good to tell him the truth.
