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Our next stop is more in line with my expectations for the day.
Mrs. Hildebrandt. She’s an older woman, a widow. The house isn’t the biggest on the block, but she clearly lacks for very little.
What strikes me immediately, when she opens the door, is the way her eyes light up. Not just in a “want to devour him” sort of way. She’s genuinely happy to see him. Like a relative or close friend.
And to my absolute surprise, he is, too.
The smile he gives her is several steps closer to warm than any I've ever seen on him. There’s something close to tenderness there.
“Gloria, you look radiant. Please, let me introduce my assistant, Hellena Michaels.”
“Charmed, my dear. Gloria Hildebrandt.” She takes my hand delicately, confidently. “Come in, Heaven, come in.” The use of that name has me wondering a whole bunch of things about what his relationship with this lady might have been. She’s beautiful, even in her sixties. But would he…?
According to him, no.
I’m fairly sure she would jump at the opportunity. I’d be hard pressed to say no if he…
Nope. No way. Stop that!
He's my boss. He's a dick. And my life is complicated enough as it is.
Even if I feel more like myself than I ever have. Go figure. Brushes with death, a job for a secret organization, rooming with a hired killer, or kill cleaner. Not to mention the dreamboat who I’m pretty sure is an informant for the Mob or something.
Reminds me, I need to call Tell…
“Tell me, Gloria, were you able to make it to the ballet on your trip?” The first word snaps me back to attention. Of course Evan wasn’t talking about my Tell.
“Oh, Evan, it was magnificent! A reprieve from an otherwise dreary visit. My sister is worse than the doctors.” She guides us into the sunroom, a spread of tea and cookies set out. A wave invites us to sit.
“I’m glad. Jean-Pierre wanted to know what you thought of his new prima.”
“She was no Eva-Maria. However, I can tell you that the girl has a future. Jean always knows how to find such unique stars. Not unlike you…”
Evan chuckles softly, genuinely. “You flatter me.”
“You eat it up because you know it’s true. Hellena, don’t ever let his modesty fool you.”
“He has modesty?” I take a quick sip of tea to keep from laughing out loud.
Gloria tilts her head back in a full belly laugh at the remark. “I like her, Evan! It’s about time you found… someone.” Her eyelids dip, hiding a momentary shadow, a flash of sadness.
“She’s a natural at the job,” Evan replies quickly, as if to excuse the idea that we might be anything other than employer and employee.
“Hmm. Always deflecting. Business aside, how are you doing, my dear?”
“Business is never aside, Gloria. Ah, but you know, I love my work. Living life to the fullest, living the dream. Or making them come true.” The admission is accompanied by a self-deprecating smile.
“Everyone’s but your own, eh?” she prods, giving me a strange glance. The comment is left hanging in the air, the three of us sitting in silence for a time.
Our host lets the silence rest, looking out at her garden, bathed in morning rays.
I feel the mood shift, the time for pleasantries passing.
“Is it done?” Her voice is barely above a whisper.
Evan nods slowly and sighs before he slides an envelope across the table. “The good news is that your painting will be here in two weeks. My dealer in France assures its authenticity and that you will be most pleased.”
Gloria smiles sadly, waving her hand dismissively. She seems far less concerned about whatever Evan brought than the fact that he came to see her. I wonder how many of these clients he has, who buy an hour of his time every so often, just for the company.
