Chapter Twelve
A Ski Trip
The next morning at breakfast, Roger asked Eve when she would be finished posing for Claude. “I’m done,” she replied. “The painting’s finished.”
“Oh? How is it?”
“I was disappointed. I didn’t think it was that good.”
Roger chuckled. “I told you he was a mediocre painter. He’s much better at photography. So you don’t think I should buy it?”
“No.”
“I guess I won’t then.” Eve felt relieved. She had exaggerated her negative opinion just as she had exaggerated her positive opinion to Claude. She was dreading the prospect of Roger taking her down to Claude’s studio to see the painting and hoped she wouldn’t have to see him again. The chances of that seemed good. Their friendship appeared to belong more to the past than the present; before that chance meeting at t
