Wife?The word still tasted bitter in my mouth. Like black coffee. Like Sebastian’s “business transactions.”
* * *
Inside, the mansion was even more impressive. We walked into a long hallway decorated with fine art in the most elaborately detailed gold frames. There were men with stern faces, women posing or dancing in red dresses, spinning with their skirts creating the look of a cape behind them. There were landscapes that I recognized from some of the pictures I’d seen in the tourist office. In the center of the hallway was a statue in the Greek style, of a man looking to the ceiling, an olive wreath placed on his head. I approached the statue to look at it a little closer.
“I bought that one Greece,” Sebastian said. “It cost me thousands to bring over and even then it took over a month to arrive. But it’s quite a treasure—”
“In Ancient Greece,” I said, interrupting him, “olive wreaths were awarded to winners of athletic competitions, either runners, wrestlers, or weightlifters. The victors often took off their wreaths to dedicate them to the gods as a symbol of piousness. I think these olive wreaths were called ‘kotinos’ by the Greeks.”
I glanced back at Sebastian. He looked surprised.
“Sorry for interrupting,” I said, biting my lip at having given in to such a bad habit. Again.
“No, it’s fine. I…I guess I got carried away with the numbers and cost of this thing…” Sebastian raised his arm and scratched the back of his head. His eyes caught something else.
“Do you know the artist behind that piece?”
I turned my head in the direction he was pointing at. It was a painting of a voluptuous woman in a short dress, leaning back again a chaise lounge. Her expression was that of contentment.
“No. My art knowledge is not that deep, unfortunately,” I admitted.
“It’s a Fernando Botero. He’s one of the most famous Colombian artists, even dubbed the most Colombian of all of them. But as they all are, controversial in his way. That piece was a nightmare to get. I paid two milli—”
I pursed my lips. Price tags again. He noticed.
“Erm…never mind. Botero’s style is about focusing more on the natural volume of bodies, which makes the subjects of his painting appear more plastic. Sensuous. Exuberant.”
My eyes returned to the painting. “It really is powerful. All those colors. It seems like nowadays everyone is on a path of bringing more sharp edges to their body, and yet he seems to ask you to appreciate the curves, the rounded spaces.”
Sebastian smiled. “You said you weren’t knowledgeable about art, and yet your cultural criticism is on point.”
I smiled back at him. “I think there is something in art for everyone. Mom and I used to visit art galleries back in Florida all the time. They were free and yet you would feel so rich coming out of them. It’s a shame that we feel the need to put a price on art.”
Our eyes met. Something passed between us, something that was left unsaid. I broke the spell by averting my gaze.
“There are some gorgeous landscape pieces here,” I said. “Are they all of Colombia?”
Sebastian nodded as he approached one such canvas. “The Old Town, here in Cartagena. Have you been?”
The vibrant painting showed a narrow street with terraced houses and jutting balconies. A cathedral stood in the background.
“I haven’t been out of the hotel much, no.” I shook my head. Admiring the painting now, I regretted having not made the effort.
“What?! But you must!” Suddenly, Sebastian’s whole stance changed. A new burst of energy came into him and his hands began to move animatedly as he turned to show me more paintings of Cartagena. Markets, cobbled streets, and the walled city.
“The walls of Cartagena are a World Heritage Site, a relic in their own right, with so much history! After the attack of Sir Francis Drake, the city of Cartagena was unrecognizable. An Italian architect by the name of Carlos de Roda Antonelli was charged with building a defensive wall around the city…” Sebastian’s eyes were alive as he talked about his city. Far from the coldness of this morning in the breakfast room, these were the eyes of someone with a heart of passion.
Somehow, he even looks more handsome…
Elly! No!
“During its construction, the city was constantly under attack from pirates…”
“Pirates?” I raised my eyebrows.
“Pirates!” Sebastian grinned. “So, the Castle San Felipe was built to up the defense and later the whole city was fortified. It took two hundred years to finish these walls and yet they still stand four hundred years later. You must visit! I’ll take you to see them tomorrow.”
We reached the end of the hall. By now, I was back again leaning against Sebastian’s arm. My knee was bothering me again.