Heads You Win

“Wow, it looks great.”

“My mother will have cooked this one herself,” said Alex, cutting off a slice and putting it on Anna’s plate. “I should warn you, she won’t be able to resist coming over to meet you. So you’ll have to tell her it’s simply the best.”

“But it is,” said Anna after taking a bite. “In fact I think I’ll bring my boyfriend here.” Alex couldn’t hide his disappointment, but then Anna grinned. “Ex-boyfriend. You saw him at the restaurant.” Alex wanted to learn more about him, but Anna changed the subject. “Alex, it was obvious when Mr. Rosenthal told you your painting was a copy, that you were surprised. So I’m curious to know how it came into your possession.”

Alex took his time telling her the whole story—well, almost the whole story—glad to at last have someone to share his secret with. By the time he’d come to their meeting in the gallery, Anna had almost finished her half of the pizza, while his remained untouched.

“And why would your friend give you half a million for a painting that can’t be worth more than a few hundred dollars?”

“Because he doesn’t know it’s a copy. Now I’ll have to tell him the truth, and what makes it worse, I can’t see Evelyn returning one cent of my money.”

Anna leaned across the table, touched his hand, and said, “I’m so sorry, Alex. Does this mean you won’t be able to open the second Elena’s?”

“Very few entrepreneurs don’t have setbacks along the way,” said Alex. “According to Galbraith, the wise ones chalk it up on the blackboard of experience and move on.”

“Is it possible that your friend Lawrence was in on the scam, and deliberately placed you next to his sister at his party?”

“No,” Alex said firmly. “I’ve never known a more decent, honest man in my life.”

“I’m sorry,” said Anna, “that was rude of me. I don’t even know your friend. But I must confess, I’d love to see the Lowell Collection.”

“That would be easy enough,” said Alex, “if you could…”

“You must be Anna,” said a voice. Alex looked up to see his mother standing over them.

“You have a gift for timing, Mother, that the Marx Brothers would be proud of.”

“And he never stops talking about you,” said Elena, ignoring him.

“Mother, now you’re embarrassing me.”

“I’m so glad he eventually found you. But wasn’t he stupid not to have followed you off the train in the first place?”

“Mother!”

Anna burst out laughing.

“How was the pizza?” Elena asked.

“Simply the best,” said Anna.

“I told her to say that,” said Alex.

“Yes, he did,” admitted Anna, leaning across the table and taking his hand. “But he needn’t have bothered, because it is the best.”

“Then can we hope to see you again?”

“Mother, you’re worse than Mrs. Bennet.”

“And why have you eaten hardly anything?” she asked, as if he was still a schoolboy.

“Mother, go away.”

“Has Alex told you about his plans for a second restaurant?”

“Yes, he has.” Alex was uncomfortably aware that he hadn’t told his mother the whole story. “It sounds very exciting, Mrs. Karpenko.”

“Elena, please,” she said as Alex stood up, clutching his knife. “Well, I’d better get back to the kitchen, or the boss might sack me,” she added, smiling at them. “But I hope I’ll see you again, then I can tell you how Alex won the Silver Star.”