Читать книгу A Rare Find - Tracy Kelleher, Tracy Kelleher - Страница 15

CHAPTER SEVEN

NICK©RECOGNIZED AMARA’S©obvious displeasure. Clearly, she’d been hoping to avoid her wayward father. Not to mention the other whammy of having to watch her new little buddy—this college kid flaunting his preppy testosterone and gee-whiz smile—fawn all over said dad. And having Georgie practically hopping on his toes, no doubt hoping to work unexpected encounters like this into the episode, only added to the sense that a crisis was looming. Not to forget the librarian.

Yes, let’s not forget the librarian, Nick thought. Penelope.

He closed his eyes, feeling all over again the brush of her breasts across his arm. And the thing of it was, he was simply not one of those guys who ever harbored a librarian fantasy.

Not that she looked like anybody’s idea of a librarian. That shapeless lab coat couldn’t hide her whippetlike frame that somehow had all the requisite curves. And then there were her legs…oh, boy, those legs. He’d never been a fan of skinny jeans—until now. And the way they ended just above her delicate anklebones, leaving a stretch of tantalizing bare flesh before her little slip-on flats. And not just any flats—ones with what looked like pages of an Italian newspaper covered in photos of Brigitte Bardot. A librarian wearing a sex goddess—could he ever have imagined?

Her ankles weren’t the only irresistible features. Her heart-shaped face with its pale skin, the delicately arched brows and a nose so narrow it was like something out of a painting by Vermeer. Still, the determined set of her jaw spoke of fire and passion—totally Rubens. Then there was her hair—that fairylike mass of ringlets that haloed about her head. Was it gold or russet? And then there was something else about her face that had him searching—for words, for insight.

But it wasn’t just her face. It was the way her mind worked—so orderly, so precise. Posed with a problem—such as finding manuscripts ASAP for some demanding TV host—she had analyzed the situation and come up with an imaginative yet totally logical solution. So different from the chaos that seemed to consume his own life. So refreshing. So calming… So soothing…

Perhaps he was having librarian fantasies after all… .

He shook his head. And narrowed his eyes when he focused on his daughter’s defiant face. “I tried to reach you this morning to set up a time to get together.”

“I must have been out by the pool when you called,” she shot back.

The guy—he was definitely part of the equation. Nick had no doubt. Which is why he was about to suggest—no, order—that from today onward, while Amara was under his watch, she’d be sleeping on a cot in his hotel room. But before he could do so, Georgie spoke up. Good ol’ Georgie. Ever ready to make things go smoothly.

“Well, you both found each other anyway. So no harm in the end,” Georgie chimed in. He held out his arms and approached Amara. “C’mon, you’re not too old to give your uncle George a big hug.” Troll-like, he enveloped her in his expansive arms, and Amara leaned into him naturally.

Nick felt a pang of jealousy. The two of them had barely exchanged a peck on the cheek.

When Georgie and Amara broke their hug, his librarian—yes, he was already beginning to think of her as his—spoke up.

“As long as you’re here, why don’t you come over and see what I’ve put out for your father and Mr. De Meglio to see.” She stepped to the side and indicated the conference table behind her. “I know that Press is accustomed to my little impromptu lectures on various holdings, and he has always kindly demonstrated an interest, genuine or otherwise.”

“Excuse me, when have I ever not thought something was really interesting?” Press asked, holding his hand up.

“The collected dry-cleaning bills from the last five years of Henry Ford’s life?”

“Okay, that was just weird. But that was the exception.” He motioned Amara over to the table. “So what have we got here?”

“These are all food related, as you might have guessed, given the circumstances. We’ve just finished looking at the work by a celebrity American chef and a provisions list from the Revolutionary War period, and now we’re on to something a little older and quite unique.”

Nick stepped aside and let the two younger people shoulder their way front and center.

Amara stared intently at one of the folios on display. “Hey, cool. Look at this.” She motioned to Press.

“The Grantham Galen. You brought it over from the exhibit?” Press asked.

“Just for this meeting. It goes right back,” Penelope answered.

“So what’s a Grantham Ga-something?” Georgie asked.

“It seems to be an old Greek manual that talks about using all these cooking herbs like cinnamon and ginger and laurel.” Amara pointed toward the text. “I’m not quite sure what this one is.” She looked to Penelope. “Am I right about it being an herbal treatise?”

“Our little Amara reads ancient Greek, and you never told me?” Georgie looked to Nick.

Nick opened his eyes wide and held up his hands. “Hey, whatever she’s learned she didn’t get it from me. And as far as languages are concerned, my accomplishments beyond mangling the mother tongue extend only to restaurant French, which is heavy on the swear words.”

“And possibly very useful in certain contexts,” Penelope observed. Then she immediately turned her attention to Amara. “Yes, it does talk about herbs, which nowadays are used in cooking, but in ancient times were the mainstays of medicine. And the word you were unsure of is cardamom,” she noted.

Amara lowered her head and studied the folio some more. “Is it? Wait a minute. If this is one of Galen’s writings, like Press said, wouldn’t it be his Theriac electuary?” She was addressing Penelope.

“A Ther-i-what?” Georgie asked, coming forward to take a better look.

“It sounds like a kind of enema,” Nick suggested, feeling more and more peripheral to the discussion.

Penelope appeared to take no notice of his comment. “A Theriac electuary, also known as a Venice treacle, is a mixture of sixty-four drugs—including what today we think of as herbs and spices, such things as cinnamon, cloves, mustard seed—”

“And cardamom,” Amara interjected.

Penelope nodded before continuing. “Including cardamom, which was formed by pulverizing the mixture with the addition of honey as a binder. It was supposed to be an antidote to poison. The recipe here is one attributed to Galen.”

“Galen who?” Nick asked. He could be as academic-y as the next person, he told himself.

Georgie leaned to Nick. “That would have been my next question, too.”

Amara raised her hand. “He’s Aelius Galenus. Also known as Claudius Galenus and Galen of Pergamon. He was of Greek ancestry, but lived in Rome, and was an important philosopher, and physician, and, really, one of the most famous medical scientists in the classical period. Unfortunately, with the fall of the Roman Empire, his works were lost to the West until the Renaissance, when he was rediscovered and his works were translated from the Arabic versions into Latin. In fact, since the original texts were mostly lost to the West, sometimes these translations were actually translated back into Greek. But this one…” Her voice trailed off.

“Is an original from the second century A.D.,” Penelope confirmed.

Amara cupped her hands over her open mouth.

Even Nick was too stunned to speak. Sure it was mind-boggling that they were looking at something written that long ago. But what was more startling was the bald demonstration of his daughter’s intellect and education. Not to mention Penelope’s complete command of arcane information and the assumption that everyone wanted to know about it.

Which, come to think of it, he did. Nick shook his head. He wasn’t a total ignoramus, and he respected people with genuine intellectual curiosity. It’s just that he had never equated himself with the latter.

And that’s when he found himself becoming mesmerized by that throbbing blue vein on the side of her forehead.

* * *

“HIS©CONTRIBUTIONS to anatomy and pharmacology are obvious—”

“To some of us.” Press interrupted Penelope with a smile.

Penelope frowned. “Press, are you making fun of me?”

“Never…well…okay, but no more than normal.”

Penelope smiled in an understated way. She was satisfied with his answer. Indeed, she was rather pleased that the two of them had this convivial relationship. It was…almost normal. “Yes…well…but in addition, in light of this manuscript, one can see that he made enormous contributions to pharmacology.”

“Don’t forget his philosophical work,” Amara noted.

“Of course, you’re right. His studies of logic are very important.” Penelope crossed her arms. “That’s very impressive for someone of your age.”

“Or any age,” Georgie added.

Penelope acknowledged his comment before addressing Amara again. “So you’re interested in the ancient languages and thought?”

Nick found himself leaning forward, curious about the answer.

Amara shrugged, appearing awkward as the center of attention. “I just took a bunch of courses in ancient Greek and Latin in school. But it’s not like it was a big deal. I mean, I’m one of those people who seem to have a thing for languages. Like some people can throw a curve ball, or be good with map directions, I’m good with languages.”

“Amara, honey, that’s fantastic,” Georgie congratulated her. “There’s no need for modesty. And you speak other languages, too?”

“Yeah, Spanish and French and Italian. But once you know one Romance language, it’s pretty easy to pick up another.”

“You must learn German,” Penelope instructed. “I’m sure you’d find its logical construction fascinating, and then you’ll be able to enjoy all those great writers like Goethe and Thomas Mann.”

“Oh, Death in Venice,” Amara practically cooed. “I loved that. I even cried. But of course, I only read it in translation. Hey, maybe I could take a German course this summer, although…”

“Wow, I’m impressed. I thought I was doing well when I passed the language requirement for Grantham, and that was only French,” Press said.

Penelope shifted her gaze to Nick. “You must be very proud of your daughter. Very few young people these days have an appreciation for the past, let alone such expertise.”

“Proud? Stunned is more like it,” he admitted. “Makes me embarrassed that I didn’t know anything about this before now.”

Penelope raised a critical eyebrow as she digested this information. Then she turned to Press. “As long as Amara appears to be interested in manuscripts, perhaps you’d like to show her around the library before you take over at the information desk.”

“Sure, if you want,” Press agreed.

Amara nodded eagerly and she inched closer to him as he headed for the door.

“Where’s a camera and a cameraman when we could use one?” Georgie said to Nick. “They look very cute together, don’t you think?”

“Way too cute,” Nick muttered.

* * *

NICK©LIFTED©HIS©HEAD and spoke up, “It will have to be a quick tour, Amara, because you’re coming with me when we’re finished here.”

“Maybe I should just go back to the pool house, then.” Amara looked as though she was about to pout.

“I know, I know, not the most exciting option, but it’ll give us a chance to catch up,” he offered. He held up his hand to get Press’s attention as he started to turn. “And, Press, did Mimi mention to you that we’ll be filming at Hoagie Palace this evening? I understand that you’re a real insider, and it would be great if you could join us.”

Press bobbed a nod. “Yeah, I heard from Mimi. It will be great. Angie and Sal—they’re the owners—are amazing. I’m happy to do anything that’ll help them.” Press looked at Amara. “If you’ve never had hoagies from The Palace, you haven’t lived.”

“On the other hand, perhaps you’ll live longer if you haven’t tried the saturated fat and cholesterol content,” Penelope observed.

“Yeah, but you only live once,” Press replied.

“Spoken like someone whose doctor has not mentioned that fateful word—Lipitor,” Nick added.

“You gotta come,” Press urged Amara, seemingly oblivious to Nick’s caustic humor.

Amara seemed torn. Nick could tell she wanted to hang out with lover-boy here. Yet the thought of spending any more time than necessary with her father was a complete downer.

“You must go,” Penelope intervened, stepping between the two young people. “I believe someone with your intellectual interests would be a good influence on Press.” She leaned closer to Amara and whispered loudly, “He’s what I like to think of as a diamond in the rough.”

Press rolled his eyes.

“You see? He’s suitably embarrassed, so you have no choice but to go.”

“Okay,” Amara conceded.

“Good, now that’s settled.” She shooed them out the door. Then she looked back at Nick and Georgie. “I’ll be right with you. I want to make sure Press gives Amara a glimpse of the maps of the Holy Land and ancient Rome. They are sure to be of interest.”

As soon as she left, Nick turned to Georgie and smiled. “The camera’s going to love her,” he murmured with a shake of his head.

“You could be right,” Georgie replied. He worked his mouth.

Nick knew that face. “What is it? What’s bugging you?”

Georgie snapped his mouth shut and heaved a sigh. “Tell me, what is it you actually want with her? Penelope?”

“To taste her ’nduja.”

“Is that what they call it now?” Georgie looked dubious.

Nick shook his head. “This is strictly aboveboard. When you get a load of this stuff, you’ll know why I want to get it on film. It’ll be like tasting ambrosia. And who knows? This other stuff?” He waved his hand at the manuscripts on the table. “We should include it, too. I mean, it wasn’t what I had in mind going into this project. But, hey, as you are always telling me—adaptation is key.”

“Sometimes I wish you wouldn’t listen to me.” Georgie frowned. “She’s a nice lady, Nick. I saw the way you reacted. I get what’s going on with you.”

Nick held up his hands defensively. “Then you get more than I do.”

Georgie gazed over his bushy eyebrows. “She doesn’t need any trouble.”

Penelope came striding back into the room. She looked squarely at Nick. “Before I show you any more items from the collection, I have a question.”

Nick raised his eyebrows.

“What are you really doing here?” Penelope asked. “I’ve been at this job long enough and dealt with other production companies. Usually, when someone wants to use our collection, they contact us months in advance.”

Nick glanced at Georgie. “Maybe that’s why we’re still on basic-cable television?” He turned back to Penelope and attempted his aw-shucks smile.

Penelope crossed her arms.

Georgie covered his mouth and coughed.

Nick rubbed his nose. “Okay, you caught me. The manuscripts you showed us are great. It’ll provide some kind of academic context for the show. After all, this is Grantham, an Ivy League school. And dunce that I am, I really didn’t put all that together until I was talking with Justin last night, and he happened to mention your position here.”

Penelope tapped her foot.

Nick looked down. The photos of Brigitte Bardot on her shoe jiggled up and down provocatively.

“Maybe I’ll just wait outside?” Georgie suggested. “I have a few phone calls to make.” He slipped out.

“I would hardly call someone who has written a bestseller, hosts and writes his own award-winning travel-food show and has a degree from Grantham University—”

“Full disclosure,” Nick interrupted. “I never got my degree.”

She waved off his comment. “I repeat again, what is it you really want?”

He took a step closer. It wasn’t a threatening move, but definitely allowed him to enter her personal space.

She didn’t retreat, but instead raised her head to look him directly in the eye.

He noticed the throb of that vein in her forehead again and felt an irresistible urge to stroke it. But he didn’t.

Instead he wet his lips and said in a low voice, “Well, now that you mention it, I want you to come to Hoagie Palace with us tonight.”

She tilted her head. “Why?”

“It’ll be fun.”

“Fun?”

“Yes, not to mention a free meal.”

“And after tonight?” She toyed with the collar of her lab coat.

Never had a uniform been so alluring. “After tonight?” he repeated her words. He searched her eyes to ascertain what she was thinking, but he found himself distracted, confused…more than confused. And then it dawned on him—what he hadn’t been able to figure out before. The reason he felt so off balance around her? “Why, to find out what a woman with eyes each a different color does for excitement.”