Sunday finally arrived, and Reine glanced at her watch again. It was five after ten, and the dozen or so people standing around her had all gotten there well before the arranged time. Apart from a few younger individuals, it was the usual crowd of retirees who faithfully attended her museum tours.

Deciding she shouldn't make them wait any longer, Reine looked at the entry once more. Just then, it opened to reveal Gabe's familiar, blonde figure.

Avoiding other tourists milling about the central lobby, he dashed over to her side and flashed a beaming smile. "Sorry for being late. I was packing, and I lost track of time."

"Are you going somewhere?" The question just slipped out, and she immediately regretted being so nosy. She didn't like people prying into her private affairs, and she knew better than to do the same for them.

"Last minute assignment. I'll be away for a few days, which is why I'm so glad we got a chance to meet up now," he said as he handed her a single, pink carnation. "Happy Valentine's Day."

Reluctantly taking the flower, Reine's face flushed. She wasn't even aware of the date. If she'd realized it was that particular holiday, she would have thought twice about inviting him along. Her embarrassment, however, was just about to be elevated.

"Aww, how sweet!" exclaimed a perky, gray haired woman standing in her circle.

"Nonsense," grumbled the older gentleman next to her, chastising Gabe with the air of authority that comes with age. "Beautiful young ladies should get red roses, not common weeds."

Reine should have kept quiet, but the academic within her burst out.

"Thank you, Mr. Unger, but don't be fooled by this innocuous-looking little flower." She paused to take a whiff of the bloom's delicate scent. "In fifteenth and sixteenth century Christian art, carnations - or pinks as they were often called - also symbolized pure love and thereby, ultimately marriage. Roses, on the other hand were used to represent the Virgin Mary and if they were red, then martyrdom. While the latter is utterly appropriate for the sacrifice of poor St. Valentine, I'll let you decide which one goes best with how we view this holiday today."

The group, who'd been intently listening to the explanation, chuckled at her quip, but she turned her attention squarely on the purpose of the day.

"And on that note, I think we should start our tour. If you could all go to the end of this hallway, turn right into the last room. We can begin there. I'd like to introduce you to the lovely and mysterious Ginevra," she said, gesturing toward the frame in the distance.

During the next hour, they moved between exhibit rooms, pausing at select works for an explanation of their history and meaning. The group participated eagerly and often asked for clarification or more details. Reine was in her element and enjoyed every second of it. Finishing with a Van Der Weyden portrait, the group scattered to either continue browsing on their own or to enjoy the rest of their Sunday outside of the museum.

Gabe was the only one who stayed behind.

"Did you enjoy the tour?" Reine smiled as he stepped up next to her.

"Yeah, it was great." He bit his lip.

She touched his arm before pulling away. "You were bored to tears, weren't you? Admit it."

"No, of course not. I mean all of these paintings are beautiful and I do appreciate all the effort that must have gone into making them, but otherwise, I just don't get what the big deal is." He shrugged, twisting a knife in her professional heart.

She frowned. "Even the stories behind them couldn't keep your interest?"

"Honestly?" he asked back.

"You weren't even listening!" she exclaimed as her eyes widened.

He laughed. "I'm listening now. Tell me, what's your favorite painting?"

"You know, that's probably the hardest thing you could ask someone in my field." She furrowed her brows. "But, I guess if I had to choose, I would pick Bosch's Garden of Earthly Delights. Do you know it?"

"I don't think so. Tell me all about it." He moved away from the work they had been viewing to allow others in the increasingly crowded gallery to see it. They found an empty bench in the middle of the room and took a seat.

Reine's face lit up at the chance to talk about one of her favorite subjects. "Well, it's this huge double-sided, three-paneled wooden piece called a triptych. It depicts Paradise on one end and Hell on the other. They flank a scene of crazy terrestrial pleasures in the middle including naked people feasting and frolicking, while being surrounded by all kinds of fantastic animals. The back side has a rather boring, monochrome scene of the early days of Creation, but it's the front that gets - and frankly, deserves - all of the attention. Scholars interpret it either as what life would have been like had Adam and Eve not been expelled from Eden or perhaps what awaits us after Judgment Day."

"It sounds really cool. Have you seen it in person?"

She was pleased to have finally piqued his interest in art.

"Only a copy. The original's been the property of the King of Spain since the 1600s, making it accessible to just a select few for three centuries. It has only been on public exhibition since the late 1930s, I believe. Unfortunately, I haven't been to Europe . . . ," Reine caught herself, before she finished the sentence with what she was initially thinking: for over a century.

Luckily, she stopped before that potentially catastrophic mistake and rephrased. "I haven't been to Europe for long enough to ever fit in a trip to the Prado. I'd love to see it in person, though. There are so many details in it that you can only appreciate up close. Much of the perspective is skewed, with disproportionate elements, giving it a very surreal feeling for a Renaissance period work. There are all of these adults cavorting with huge pieces of fruit."

Reine paused again before continuing. "Come to think of it, I don't think there are any children or elderly people in it, which is rather unusual in itself," she said.

It was strange she had never noticed this important fact. Could Bosch have known something that influenced his creation of this piece? And was her attraction to the painting subconsciously affected by this? She'd have to ponder that more at another time, but now she really wanted to continue this present conversation.

"But to get back to your question, I think I do like another work of art more, if I'm not limited to just picking from paintings."

He leaned closer. "Wait, let me guess. Is it a sculpture? I've always admired Michelangelo's David myself. It's from one piece of marble right? The skill that went into making that really is amazing."

She grinned. "Maybe there's hope for you yet! But it's not a statue. Actually, it's a large DaVinci charcoal sketch in London. It's really a testament to the man's genius. They keep it behind specially-lit glass in this tiny little room they've made for it. It's completely dark except for the work. Seeing it just leaves you breathless."

"I think it's amazing that you're so passionate about what you do." He sounded sincere, and she smiled in return. Unfortunately, sudden buzzing coming from her purse cut the moment short.

Reine answered cautiously, not recognizing the incoming number. "Hello?"

"Miss Baldwin." It was Professor Iverson on the other end, and he sounded breathless with excitement. "Drop whatever you're doing and start packing. We're on the redeye flight to Italy."