More Than Neighbors by Isabel Keats Read Free Book Online

made Fiona want to strangle her ex.
    “Please don’t start again, you two!” Cat commanded, tired of their endless squabbling. “Leo, this is Diego Torres. He owns the gallery and was kind enough to loan it to us for the exhibition. And you’ve already met Fiona Danson, a friend of mine for I don’t know how many years. Guys, this is Leopold Sinclair.”
    “Of Sinclair & Associates?” Diego seemed impressed.
    “That’s right.” Leopold shook his hand, having done the same with Fiona.
    “How decorous of you.” The redhead made a face.
    “You have no idea,” Cat said in a disparaging tone that annoyed her neighbor.
    “Where’ve you been, all dressed up like that, Leopold?” Fiona devoured him with her eyes.
    “I’ve just come from a gala dinner at the Royal Opera House. After we’d finished eating, my date felt unwell and went home, so I came here. I was curious to see your students’ work, Catalina.”
    Suddenly, a short twenty-something girl with Down syndrome approached Cat and threw her arms around her. “Cat, Cat, I sold my painting! For twenty pounds!” Her almond-shaped eyes flashed with excitement behind her glasses.
    Leopold noticed the tender expression on his neighbor’s face as she bent to return the hug and kiss the girl’s forehead. “Rachel, honey. I didn’t doubt that some connoisseur would fall in love with your work at first sight and buy it; don’t I always say you use beautiful colors?”
    “I wanted you to know first; now I’ll go and tell Mum.” The girl ran off, a giant smile spread across her face.
    Cat’s happy, affectionate gaze came to rest on Leopold, who was observing everything with a grave expression. “Shall I show you the paintings?” she offered amicably.
    “I’d like that very much.”
    “Guys, I’m going to show Leo the exhibition. It’d be nice if you didn’t gouge each other’s eyes out in my absence.” After giving them both an admonishing look, she led her neighbor to one of the brick walls on which several paintings hung.
    The quality of the artwork varied. Some paintings were little more than a childlike scribble, while others demonstrated surprising skill. Overall, however, Leopold was impressed, especially since he hadn’t known what to expect. “You must be a good teacher, Catalina. Some of these paintings are really good,” her neighbor said admiringly.
    “Thank you very much, Leo. I’m flattered, but all the credit belongs to the kids. You can’t imagine the interest they’ve shown and how dedicated they are.” Her pretty face lit up as she talked about her students, and Leopold felt touched by her concern for them.
    “And this one?” Sinclair stopped in front of a Cubist portrait of a woman, attracted by the angular strokes and muted colors that portrayed great strength and vitality. “It’s you!”
    Cat looked at him, impressed. “I’m surprised, Leo—you’re the only person who’s noticed.”
    “I’m not sure why, there’s just something about it . . .” He broke off, not knowing exactly what he wanted to say.
    “I didn’t know you were so discerning.” She was staring at him with a newfound respect. “It was done by my best student, Peter Kelly. He’s a young lad on the autism spectrum, and his instinct for art is extraordinary. I’m trying to obtain a scholarship for him to study at Saint Martins, but it’s not easy. The poor lad struggles socially, and I’m well aware he needs more than I can offer him.”
    “He’s your favorite student?” Leo’s gray eyes looked at her questioningly.
    Catalina shook her head and gave a faint smile. “A good teacher never admits she has favorites. Let’s just say that he’s a very special young man. Look, here he is. I’ll introduce you. Peter, come here!”
    A short, dark-haired young man of twenty or so came over. “My angel,” was all he said, grabbing Cat by the waist and resting his cheek on her shoulder. She gently stroked his black hair.
    “Peter, this