Read Online 2 The Dante Connection by Estelle Ryan - Free Book Online Page B

into the apartment, the kitchen and dining areas were on the same opposing sides as in my apartment. A corridor between these two areas led to the three bedrooms that both our apartments had. Every inch of wall space was covered in art. Oil paintings and watercolours, sketches, photography and even a mosaic that I shuddered to think some museum might be wanting back.
    I took my time walking around and inspecting the front part of his apartment. Sculptures were tastefully placed on antique tables. Persian carpets covered parts of the wooden floors. Our apartments had a lot in common, yet Colin’s was more masculine. And the art was much more expensive than the pieces I had collected. I placed my handbag and computer bag with my work computer on one of the dark blue sofas.
    “Where are your books?” I asked.
    “In my study. I set up a library and reading area there. Your place inspired me.”
    “Evidently.”
    Colin looked amused by my annoyance. I was appreciating a bronze sculpture that looked suspiciously like an original Picasso. He joined me. “Don’t you like my interior decorating skills?”
    “It looks to me like art is not the only thing that you copy, Mister Frey.” I looked pointedly at the open area. “Should I be disgusted or complimented by this blatant display of mimicry?”
    “Wow.” Colin took a step away from me. “That cut deep, Jenny.”
    “Jen-girl.” Vinnie’s booming voice broke into our conversation. I turned in time to see him storming towards us from the bedrooms. “You are here.”
    “I am,” I said. Watching the almost two-metre-tall giant coming towards me changed my emotional state. I went from annoyed to happy. Despite the last four months, I was genuinely happy to see Vinnie. I was less pleased when he didn’t break his stride and he swept me into his arms. My feet lifted off the floor and I hung helpless in a strangle hold.
    “I’m so, so, so, so, so sorry.” He repeated this a few times in my hair. I felt his muscular body tremble with emotional overload. That was the only reason I didn’t try to wriggle out of his arms. Vinnie was very kinaesthetic. He was a touch person. And he was a hugger. I didn’t like being hugged. He knew it, yet was still hugging me. I really wanted to wriggle.
    “Vin, put Jenny down. You’re smothering her.” There was humour in Colin’s voice.
    I felt myself being slowly lowered, but Vinnie didn’t let go of me. At least I wasn’t squashed up against his chest anymore. He did, however, hold my shoulders in his huge hands so I couldn’t move away. At the hospital he had barely made eye contact and had avoided me most of the time. Not now. He looked me over as if making sure I was uninjured.
    “You’re even prettier than I remember.”
    “Vin.” Colin groaned. I couldn’t see him so I didn’t know if he was embarrassed or annoyed.
    “What? She is,” Vinnie said, still looking at me. He leaned in until his nose almost touched mine. I quickly wrote two bars of Mozart’s Serenade No. 11 for wind instruments in E-flat major to not give in to the claustrophobic panic his proximity induced. “Jen-girl, I’m sorry. Colin told me that you were hurt by us not contacting you. I knew that it was not the right thing to do, but we didn’t know what else to do. It was never our intention to hurt you. You’re one of my best friends, Jen-girl. I never want to hurt you.”
    I completely forgot about my dislike for being touched. The intensity of Vinnie’s remorse overwhelmed me. That and yet another friendship declaration. This was becoming too much for me. I looked around him at Colin.
    “Okay, Vin.” Colin must have seen the desperation on my face. He stepped in and peeled Vinnie’s hands off my shoulders. “Let the pretty lady go. That’s a good man.”
    The relief of having my body to myself again was immense. I stepped back and concentrated on my breathing until I had my equilibrium back. After four months of limited social