Wine, Tarts & Sex

Eleven

That evening, after Matt had been tucked into bed, Liv and Janie sat on the porch, watching the moon come up and drinking a glass of wine.

“I really can’t thank you enough for your hospitality, Liv. Matt adores your farm-your dogs and kittens and horses. It’s perfect for him. I’m feeling as though I can really decompress here.”

“You’re more than welcome. And Matt’s a darling- really-he’s sweet as can be. There’s a lake not far from here, too, if you get bored. They have swimming lessons in the summer for the kids. He might like that.”

“Thanks. Maybe we’ll try it. And thanks, too, for listening to me all day. I talked you to death, I know, but it’s been quite a while since I could vent. Leo always had so much staff around, you were never sure if someone might be listening to your conversation.”

“Not a problem. It sounds as though Leo’s been a major pain.”

“A vast understatement.” Janie made a small moue. “I have a feeling he’s found someone else, though. Not that I’m surprised.”

“Since you were in the wings before he divorced his last wife, you probably shouldn’t be.”

Janie sighed faintly. “I know. I just thought maybe I’d be different. Not too bright of me, I suppose. Although, the way Leo’s been screaming and carrying on and making my life difficult lately, I can’t lie and say I’m heartbroken. It’s actually a relief to have it over.”

“What are the chances he might roll over on this divorce? ”

Janie snorted.

“That’s what I thought. His last custody fight was vicious. ” Liv smiled. “I hope you haven’t done any drugs with photographers nearby.”

“God no. I’m not that stupid. Lisa, on the other hand- well you saw what happened. She lost her daughter. I’m not about to do anything that’ll jeopardize custody of Matt. There is another little thing, though, I probably should mention. ” Janie put up a calming hand. “Don’t worry. It has nothing to do with drugs. And it’s not actually little. It’s life-sized and should arrive tomorrow.”

“Okay, you have my interest. Just one question. Will anyone be going to jail for this little thing?”

“Technically, it’s mine-so, no.”

“Somehow that’s not reassuring. How about in terms of the letter of the law? Will a court agree with you?”

“If possession is nine-tenths of the law, it will.”

“Jeez,” Liv muttered. “So what of Leo’s did you steal?” Janie had always looked on things she wanted with a flexible attitude apropos actual ownership details. When they’d shared an apartment, Janie had always conveniently overlooked whose dress was whose. Or shoes. Or jewelry. Or on occasion even the money in Liv’s wallet.

“We had Hockney paint portraits of us shortly after we were married. I just took mine with me, that’s all. Leo’s going to say he paid for them, but I figure they’re half mine, and I took my half.”

“David Hockney?”

Janie nodded.

“So this portrait you took is worth what? Two, three mil?”

“Probably,” Janie said under her breath. “But why should I leave my portrait behind for Leo to sell or put into storage somewhere?”

“Weren’t you locked out? How did you get your hands on it?”

“Because I’m a very lucky person, that’s how,” Janie brightly replied. “The portraits had just been sent to MoMA for an upcoming exhibit. I simply asked for mine back, although, I must say, the curator wasn’t very gracious about it. I had to resort to screaming and threats.” She smiled. “Men never like when women scream in public. He caved, and then I watched while they crated it up and personally saw it put in a FedEx truck. You’ll really like it, by the way. I’m wearing my Rick Owens little black suit, and you know how his clothes all drape so naturally and flatter the body. I must say I look fabulous. I saw no reason to leave that gorgeous portrait behind.”

Liv could see the headlines now: “Stolen Multimillion-Dollar Painting Found in Minnesota Barn.”

“How soon before Leo sends out the gendarmes for you or, more precisely, for Matt and the Hockney painting?”

“They’re probably looking for us already. But, really, with our false passports and your remote location, I really think we’re safe. As for the painting, Leo won’t know I took it from MoMA. He’s totally uninterested in museums, and the curator was too intimidated to even bring up the fact that I’d been there.”

“That all sounds good,” Liv politely replied, figuring harsh reality would impinge on Janie’s dream world soon enough. Leo had been both relentless and ruthless in his last custody fight. There was no reason to think he’d be any different in Matt’s case. But time enough for cynicism in the morning. Picking up the bottle of wine, she smiled. “More wine?”

“Yes, please. Your wine tastes so-o-o good. Do you have a marketer or an advertising agency working for you? I know a few people who could make you rich with this fabulous wine.”

“Thanks,” Liv said, refilling Janie’s glass, “but I prefer my boutique label and hand-selling. This operation is more hobby than serious.”

“You always did save all your money. I suppose you’re set financially.”

“I have enough to live on, which was the point of working so hard those years when I was in demand.”

“But you quit long before you would have had to.”

“As soon as my finances allowed, I was gone. That was the plan.”

Janie sighed. “You always were so sensible. Unlike me. I haven’t saved a penny.”

“Don’t sweat it. That’s what a lawyer is for. He’ll get you a nice settlement.”

“So Brad says, although I’m not so sure. Leo always has to win at everything.”

“He can’t always win. He has to lose sometime.”

“You think?”

Suddenly Janie looked frightened and unsure, her bravado gone. “You said you have a good lawyer. You have Matt with you. With luck, Leo won’t find you here. I’d say you’re holding a winning hand.”

Janie’s smile reappeared. “Thanks. You always could cheer me up. Remember that time they fired me from the soap, and you calmed me down and told me what to say to get my job back?”

“See, things can work out,” Liv soothed. “They did then, and they will now. Don’t worry. Call your lawyer in the morning, tell him you’re safely settled in a remote location,” she said with a grin. “But let him know you have that Hockney painting-if you haven’t already told him. You don’t want to be thrown in jail over some legal technicality. Leo would use it against you like he did with that photo of Lisa doing blow.”

“You always think so rationally. Thanks for the good advice. What time is it, anyway? Can I still call Brad? He did say I could call him day or night,” she added, answering her own question.

“Then call him. Ask him what to do with the painting. You’ll sleep better knowing all the facts.”