Page 61 of Meet Me in Montreal

Maybe, she thought. Maybe she could if she wanted it enough. Maybe Santino’s superhero love would be strong enough to save her from going back down that dark road after all. When she gave his hand a little extra squeeze, he grinned at her and it was the sun shining at midnight.

By then, Ling had led them through several huge, airy rooms, everything white from the concrete walls to the furnishings. Santino released a soft, “Whoa” at what she called The Gallery. It sizzled and popped with graffiti style paintings, deep indigos, vivid shades of blue and hot pink splashed across the canvases in a connected series.

“I can’t believe Virgil has all these.Tesoro, it’s that artist, Tenzin Wu. The one I’ve been telling you about.”

“Virgil loves him, obviously. Good thing, since he’s my cousin. He’s actually here right now, if you’d like to meet him?” Ling offered. “Right out there.”

She pointed through the glass wall to the backyard where there was a swimming pool lit up with crazy pink underwater lights. Several guests were standing around it, a few taking a swim in bikinis, and some apparently nude. The thin man with glasses she was pointing at was fully clothed and standing on the deck, smoking and looking up at the sky.

“Hell yeah, I want to meet him,” Santino exclaimed fervently. “But first, is Panthro here? My wife’s been dying to meet him all night.”

Bobby cleared his throat, and when Vanessa looked at him, his eyes were wide. She guessed he didn’t like that “wife” reference. Ignoring him and Zoe’s eye roll, Vanessa focused on Ling.

“He was here briefly, but unfortunately, he left. He said he felt the energy wasn’t quite correct.”

“Correct?” Vanessa repeated with a laugh. “What does that mean?”

“You know how some artists can be. I wish we could have convinced him to stay longer. I’m sorry,” Ling said with a sincere pout. “Anyway, come meet Tenzin.”

“Santino, you go ahead. I haven’t had a chance to visit with my sister,” Bobby said, tugging on Vanessa’s other arm before she could go with them.

“Is it okay?” Santino asked in her ear so they wouldn’t overhear.

“Go ahead, it’s cool.”

Santino gave her a quick kiss on the lips and then followed Ling out of the room through an open doorway off to the left.

“A famous artist, huh? I’d like to meet him too.” Zoe grabbed a glass of wine from another server and took off after Ling and Santino, who was already talking with Tenzin.

Bobby shook his head as he watched his wife knock back a glass and insert herself into the conversation, then drift off to talk to someone else when Santino glared at her. His eyes drifted back to Santino, Tenzin and Ling as if tempted to go chat with them himself.

“What is going on with you and Zoe?” Vanessa asked. “Am I wrong, sensing a little tension in paradise?”

“Am I sensing a little paradise in Hell?” he countered. “You and Santino seem really friendly for two people who are supposed to be signing divorce papers in a few days. You’ve been all over each other all night.”

“Stop deflecting. You and Zoe. What’s going on?” Vanessa stared pointedly through the glass at her sister-in-law.

To her amused shock, Zoe downed another glass of vino in one go and proceeded to jump into the pool fully clothed.

“What the fuck?” Bobby sighed harshly. “Let me go handle her.”

Maybe Vanessa had underestimated how much Zoe had had to drink at the concert. Highly amused, she watched Bobby try to talk her out of the pool where she bobbed up and down with a trio of semi or fully nude women. When she pulled him in instead of him pulling her out, Vanessa gasped, then chuckled. Santino turned to her with his palms open and grinned, then turned back to Tenzin and Ling, with whom he was having an animated conversation.

Still laughing to herself, Vanessa turned and went back to the paintings in the room, drifting from one to the other while ambient beats piped in from hidden speakers, letting their bold colors and tones wash over her. They were similar in style to the one in the suite, but more soothing. The wall extended several more feet, where she discovered another row of paintings on the opposite side.

She couldn’t see the pool or the deck any longer. This space was more intimate, with lower lighting to highlight each piece. The paintings were darker, more subdued, shaded with erotic vermillion and sensuous swirls of midnight black.

“If I’d known you were an art lover, I would have taken you to a couple galleries back home,” a voice said from over her shoulder.

Immediately, she stiffened, knowing the owner of that gravelly baritone without having to look.

“Should I even ask what you’re doing here?” Vanessa glanced over her shoulder at Scott, who emerged from the shadows.

He stood gazing at the canvas before her. He seemed to match it, dressed in similar dark, somber colors.

“I met Virgil a few years back when my company starting getting international attention. He wanted to build his hotel to be environmentally sustainable, even beyond city and provincial mandates. I know you’d find the details boring, so I’ll spare you.” She flushed, not acknowledging his statement was true. “Anyway, we became friends. I did tell you I have friends here.I’m going to assume Virg is friends with your husband. I saw him outside with Ling. Sexy, accomplished Ling.”

Scott walked up to stand beside her. His gaze was heavy on her, then he turned to the art. She was grateful for the dim lighting. Maybe it would hide the way she tensed at his mention of Ling’s sexiness and achievements or the way she suddenly felt nervous being in an area with him where they couldn’t be seen.

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