Page 31 of The Artist and the Muse

A lump formed in my throat. “Yeah. Things like that.”

She wiped her fingers on a tissue. “I’m going to make some tea. Then we can talk.”

As she fussed around in the kitchen, I stared at the plate of sandwiches, unsure if I should follow her in there. I wasn’t sure why I had brought up my past in Europe now, of all days. What was supposed to be a fun, relaxing day of babysitting and spending time with my sister had gone out the window now.

I heard the whistle of the kettle and got up to find a packet of green tea. Katerina was already taking out a chamomile tea bag—she only drank herbal tea. We made our cups in silence. While our tea steeped, we returned to the living room.

I sank into the soft leather couch, pondering my words. “I wasn’t honest with you about why I left Montréal.”

“You weren’t. I figured out pretty soon that you weren’t going to some ‘art camp.’” She blew on her tea, after making air quotes around the words.

“The reason I left is because my friend—or someone I thought was a friend at the time—asked me to go with him to Europe. I didn’t know it at the time, but what he was actually inviting me into was a money laundering scheme. He wanted me to create art that he auctioned off at charity events for inflated prices. Then wealthy gangsters would buy the pieces with money from their criminal activities, and Sebastian would pocket a portion of the sale price.”

“Huh.” She pursed her lips, looking thoughtful. I was surprised by her relative lack of shock at my disclosure. “Who was this ‘friend’?”

“Sebastian Cavalli.”

“So you weren’t just gallivanting through Europe and living a carefree artist lifestyle for four years?”

“I mean, I was. Or I thought I was. And then it turned out that Sebastian was just using me as part of his plan to get rich.”

She sighed, rubbing her forehead. “I could have told you that about the Cavallis.”

“Yes, well, that was two years before the whole kidnapping thing happened with his brother Antonio. I didn’t know Sebastian was part of a criminal family. I thought he was just like us. Well-off and well-connected. Not part of the mafia.”

Katerina took a sip of her tea, then leaned forward to pat me on the arm. “I know, George. It’s easy to be taken in by them, isn’t it?”

“I just thought he was my friend. He convinced me that by going with him to Europe, we could be the artists we’d always wanted to be. That I could make money from selling my paintings and prove to Dad that art wasn’t a waste of time. But instead…” I sighed, staring down at the murky darkness in my cup. “Instead, I just proved him right.”

“Is that why you didn’t go to his funeral? You were ashamed?”

“No, I didn’t go because I was on the run from Sebastian after his criminal schemes were uncovered by the police and I had to get out of Italy. That’s how I ended up in L.A., because I thought Sebastian might find me if I came back to Montréal.”

“What?” She dropped her teacup onto her saucer and hissed as hot tea splashed onto her fingers. “Ouch.”

I handed her a tissue.

“And why did you come back to Canada after we found you in L.A.?” Katerina asked, crumpling the tissue in her fist. “Wouldn’t he still have been looking for you then?”

“I read in the news that he was starting a legitimate business with the opening of his restaurant, Cavalli’s. After that, I figured it would be safe to come out of hiding. He and I haven’t seen each other in years.”

“He was your friend once,” Katerina murmured. “I’m sorry he betrayed you like that, George. But are you sure you don’t want to know where he is? Or find him and get some closure?”

“Knowing Sebastian, his idea of closure would be tying up loose ends by making sure I didn’t tell anyone about his money laundering scheme. Or blackmailing me into keeping quiet.”

Katerina blew on her tea. “I wish I had known what you were going through. I’m still mad that you left, but… you didn’t deserve that.”

“I made my own decisions. After I found out he was a criminal, only because some of the people working for him were arrested, I wanted out. I packed my bags and left Italy, but I didn’t even report him to the police. I should have, right? I mean, he was probably responsible for more grave crimes than money laundering. But I didn’t, and now he’s walking free.”

“George, you did the best you could. The Lord will deal with him and mete out His justice. It’s not up to you to decide.”

“I should have done more. I should have known better.” I scrubbed a hand over my face like I was trying to wash off my guilt and shame over my time with Sebastian.

“You can only say that now.” Katerina put a hand on my shoulder. “It’s easy to look back and tell yourself all the things you should’ve done. But you have to stop focusing on what you should have done, or else the guilt will eat you up inside. I wish you could’ve been there at Dad’s funeral. I wish we hadn’t missed so much time together, but you’re my brother, and I love you, and you’re here. Let’s make the most of the time we have together now, not just wallow in the past.”

I finished my green tea, the bitterness mingling with the honey I’d stirred into the cup. “Thanks, Trina.”

She set aside her tea, and I did the same, before she pulled me into a hug.

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