Henry smiled. “If you’re an example of this generation, it’s good I got out. You’re too clever for me.”
“I doubt that. So what is it?”
He took a moment before answering. “My wife’s sister lives in Williamsburg. I wanted to retire to a place of endless sun, but it was either come here or lose her.”
“She’s a good bargainer.”
“Tyrant, is more likely,” he said. “So anyway, I hate golf, can’t stand country clubs, and I don’t know what to do with myself.”
“You’re the man Russell mentioned.”
“That’s me. When I was a kid I used to make figures out of mud. I wanted to go to art school, but my father sent me to study business. Back then I was as bullied by him as young Carter is by his father.”
“But you seem to have survived.”
“I guess business was in my blood,” he said. “But then I early on learned how to look at a deal as though it were an art form. Was my opponent a Gainsborough or a Pollock?”
“Or a Mondrian?” she said, amused.
“If I figured out his style I knew how to deal with him.”
“So what was on the walls of your office?”
Henry laughed. “I had my daughters’ drawings framed.”
“Ah yes. Family. Everything for them. Did anyone ever figure you out?”
“Not until this moment,” he said.
“Which brings us back to my original question. What do you want from me?”
“A teacher. No, actually, I want an art buddy. As much as I love my family, I miss the office—and my wife dearly wants me to get out of the house.”
“An art buddy? And you’re thinking about me for this?”
“Russell Pendergast gave me the idea. You know who his father is, don’t you?”
“Randall Maxwell, isn’t it? Colleague of yours?”
“Off and on. I can’t say we’re friends. When it comes to business he’s a Robert Motherwell.”
Sophie had to laugh. Motherwell’s paintings were a white canvas with huge, rough-edged black slashes and ovals, sometimes with a vivid splash of red. Very dramatic. Unforgiving. “Did you beat him?”
“Only once.”
“Is this Edilean preacher like him?” she asked.
“More than he knows. After all, he’s trying for a merger between you and me. He said you want to be an artist and that you’ve done a lot of bronzes. He also told me what you did for your sister.”
“I guess he learned all this from my friend Kim?”
“I think so.”
While the idea was appealing, Sophie didn’t think it would work. “The problem is that I’ve never been good at teaching. You saw that in there. A teacher needs to have patience and to . . . well, teach. But I just grabbed your sculpture and tore it apar
t. That’s not the way a teacher should be.”
“I can get those on every street corner. I like the other half of that saying ‘those who can do and those who can’t, teach.’ ”