Antonio watched his father walk away and turn to the right to go to his room. Constanzo backing out of plans made no sense. His dad never turned down an opportunity to be out and about, doing things, seeing things, especially when he had somebody like Laura Beth to play tour guide for.
Antonio shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and walked back to the main room to see Laura Beth standing by the window, waiting for him.
“He isn’t going. Says he wants to rest.”
“Oh.” Laura Beth hesitantly walked toward him. “Is he okay?”
“Yeah, he just seemed—” Odd. Unusual. Confusing. “Tired.”
“I get that. He didn’t sleep on the flight. We got in late. Then we stayed up another hour or so eating.” She winced. “The man’s going to make me huge.”
He laughed. “He prides himself on being a good host.”
She smiled, then glanced around. “So what now?”
He sucked in a breath. “I usually go to the Picasso Museum when I’m here.”
She brightened. “Then let’s go. I don’t have anything else to do until the gallery opening tonight.”
He wasn’t surprised she and his father planned on going to the opening. When Constanzo butted in, he went full tilt. Maybe that was why he wanted to rest?
Antonio glanced back down the hall that led to his dad’s suite. The gallery opening started late and ended in the wee hours of the morning. Constanzo wasn’t as young as he used to be, and he might have realized he couldn’t waste his energy today if he intended to be up until three. Maybe he knew he couldn’t spend the day sightseeing and also go to the gallery opening? And maybe the whole nonargument they’d just had was his way of getting out of sightseeing so he didn’t have to admit he needed the rest.
The crazy old coot hated admitting shortcomings. Even if they were a normal part of life.
With that settled in his mind, he glanced at Laura Beth, with her bright, expectant face. He should tell her no. He’d sort of gotten them back to being friends. Spending the day with her was like tempting fate—
Or he could turn it into a day to cement their friendship. He could show her around, acting like a friend, and maybe his attraction would go away.
Actually, that idea was perfect.
He hoped.
PRAYING HIS PLAN to get them back behaving like friends worked, Antonio pointed to the elevator and Laura Beth followed him into the plush car, through the ornate lobby and then to the street. The doorman tossed him a set of keys. He motioned to a shiny red sports car. Low and sleek, with the black top retracted, the Jaguar hit the sweet spot of luxury and fun.
“Oh, nice!”
“It’s my dad’s, of course.” He paused halfway to the car as guilt unexpectedly nudged him. His dad shared everything he had, gave Antonio anything he asked for, and he shouldn’t have made that remark about being glad that Tucker and Olivia sometimes entertained him. But as quickly as the thoughts came, Antonio shoved them aside. His dad hadn’t been insulted by his comment as much as he’d been looking for a way to bail on a day of sightseeing. Antonio was positive he had nothing to feel guilty for.
Laura Beth ambled to the Jag. Her eyes lit with joy as she took in the stunning vehicle. “Your dad has the best taste.”
“Yes. He does.” He opened the car door for Laura Beth and motioned for her to step inside.
She slid in, immediately glancing behind her at the nonexistent backseat. “Maybe it’s a good thing Constanzo bailed. I’m not sure how we all would have fit in this.”
Walking around the hood of the car, Antonio laughed. “No worries. My dad has a limo here. There could have been space for everybody if he’d really wanted to come along.”
He jumped inside. As he slipped the key into the ignition, he could feel the heat of her gaze as she studied him. This was the closest they’d been since the day he’d explained why he wanted to paint her. Hot and sharp, his attraction to her tumbled back. The temptation to touch her was so strong, he fisted his hands.
“My mom does that, you know.”
Expecting something totally different from her, he frowned and peered over at her. “Does what?”
“Tells me she isn’t upset when I know she is. Especially when I’m home for a holiday and I want to go somewhere without her. It’s not really passive-aggressive behavior. It’s more like she sees I’m an adult, and, though it’s hard, she has to give me some space. So she says she’s not mad and lets me go alone.” She caught his gaze. “Sometimes it makes me feel guilty. But I know it’s her choice. Almost like a gift.”
He frowned. If Laura Beth had picked up on his exchange with Constanzo, maybe it hadn’t been so innocent after all. “A gift?”
“Yes. Time alone with my friends is a gift.”
He scrunched his face in confusion. “Why would Constanzo think we needed alone time when we just spent several days together?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Well, whatever he’s doing, it’s weird, because until today Constanzo’s never dropped back.”
“Maybe this morning he finally got the message that you don’t want him around so much?”
The guilt rolled back. It tightened his chest and clenched his stomach. He looked out over the hood of the car, then faced her. “It’s not like that. The only time I freak is when he meddles.”
She shook her head. “No. You’re pretty much always grouchy with him. But I get it.” She put her hand on his forearm, as if what she had to say was supremely important and she wanted him to listen. “You’re an adult who lives twenty minutes away from a retired wealthy man who adores you and has nothing to do but dote on you.”
He laughed.
“When he first found you, all this attention was probably fun. Now you want to be yourself.”
“I suppose.” Except without painting he had no idea who he was. And maybe that’s what made him the most angry with Constanzo’s meddling. He wanted to be able to say, Let me alone so I can paint, or feed the hungry, or gamble, or read, or sit on the beach. But he couldn’t. He had no interest in anything. And having Constanzo around always reminded him of that.
Not wanting to think about that anymore, he hit the gas and propelled them into the street, ending the discussion.
The wind ruffled through their hair, and Laura Beth laughed with glee. “This is great!”
He hit the clutch and shifted into the next gear, working up some speed before he shifted again, and again, each time sending the little car faster as he wove in and out of lanes, dodging traffic.
She laughed merrily, shoving her hands above her head to feel the air.
Something about her laugh soothed him. She hadn’t been right about Constanzo giving him space. Never in their history together had his dad ever dropped back, unless Antonio pushed him. But suddenly it didn’t matter. With the wind in his face and the sun beating down on him, it was just nice to be outside. To be away from his dad. To be away from two years’ worth of requests for paintings. To be away from the studio that reminded him he couldn’t create.
He sucked in the spring air, let her laugh echo around him and felt the tightness