Sitting with Bette out in the terrace to lounge late in the afternoon had become Raoul’s daily ritual over the past week. The ritual included waiting for the sun to set over the bay, during which they’d silently contemplate the pink-orange ribbons of light in the horizon that inevitably traced the surrounding light blue sky just before the sun sank over the bay. Then, as twilight set, and before the stars would come out, his cook would bring out a light dinner for them, and they would continue to talk late into the night. Even though he had several guest rooms that Bette could use, inevitably the brunette would stand up, give him another of her sad smiles, bid him goodnight, and then take the car her hotel had arranged to take her down the mountain, and head back to the seaside resort that she was staying in.

Every night she’d departed, Raoul’s heart had sunk a little, and he’d felt a twinge of anxiety that the brunette would not elect to make her daily mid-afternoon trek up the mountain to his house the next day. But, like the beautiful sunset they both quietly contemplated every day, Bette had shown up at the door with her sad smile and troubled brown eyes, and always with a gift, like a bottle of wine or a book from an antique bookseller in town – or once with a packet of French herbs and spices for the cook to try.

Thus far, he and Bette had largely talked at length mostly about art, his experiences as a financier during the various boom periods in Europe after the war, his work as a behind-the-scene adviser to central bankers in Europe upon his retirement, and their shared interest in several periods in art, such as the mid-century. Raoul had built a redoubtable mid-century collection over the course of his life – in fact, they’d met when Bette had visited him to explain her interest in one or two paintings in his renowned collection. She’d journeyed to Acapulco when she’d heard from gallerists while in Mexico City for a contemporary art exhibit that he was beginning to sell off some of his collection.

From the start, they’d found they’d shared an almost spiritual kinship concerning art, and Raoul was delighted that he had found in Bette someone who was both knowledgeable about art he was interested in, and could learn from, while remaining intellectually curious and interested in art that she had less knowledge about.