Full Moon in Florence (14 page)

Dishes started arriving even though they hadn’t officially ordered.

“I come here often,” he explained. “They know what I like.”

Everything about Lorenzo whispered discreet luxury, old world, old money.

“How did things work out with your brother?” said Laine.

Lorenzo frowned. “This is why I needed to speak with you. He claims he has a buyer for the Botticelli.”

Laine’s stomach tightened. This was not a good sign.

“I told him to forget it,” said Lorenzo. “He even tried to take the painting to be appraised again, even though we had all works of art appraised only a year ago.” Lorenzo shrugged. “I think he was hoping when I see the new appraisal that I will change my mind about selling the piece. But it is not my mind that must change, it’s his.”

Laine took a sip of wine to wash down the truffle ravioli appetizer.

“I would understand if you have to retract your offer.” She hated to say it but she was in no position to compete with a wealthy collector.

“Of course I won’t do that. It is just like Antonio to mess with my plans.”

“I wish there was a way the museum coalition could pay a fair market price, so that you both might be happy. But unfortunately we don’t have a very large budget and are dependent on donations.”

Lorenzo shook his head. “It is not about the money. Antonio, as greedy as he is, must understand that grandfather’s wishes must be fulfilled. It’s not wise to displease one’s ancestors.”

“But is it worth a fight between two brothers?”

Lorenzo smirked. “This is not the first time we have stood against each other. I am the older brother, so I will win.”

He stroked his angular, clean-shaven jaw. “I have an idea. A way to get around Antonio’s schemes.”

Laine listened as she took a bite of Caprese salad.

“I will be hosting a charitable dinner at my private club. We will be auctioning off a few items from my grandfather’s estate to raise money for heart disease, which is what he died of. I want make a presentation of the small Botticelli painting. To you. When I donate it to you publicly, Antonio and his greedy buyer will have no choice but to slink away empty-handed.”

Laine liked the idea of securing the painting for the coalition, but she didn’t like being drawn into this family drama. Plus a private charitable dinner sounded like a formal event. What would she wear? And she’d feel so nervous accepting the painting in such a public way. But Tina had said to do whatever she had to do …

“When is the event?”

“Tonight.”

Laine’s forked stopped midway in its journey from her plate to her mouth. “
Tonight?
I can’t possibly—”

“—It must be tonight,” said Lorenzo. “It is the best plan. Then it will be, as you Americans like to say say, a ‘done deal’.”

Laine took a sip of wine. This was such short notice.

“Can I bring someone?” She’d feel more comfortable if Colin went with her, but Lorenzo frowned a little at the idea.

“Because of the late notice, I need to request that you bring only yourself. I will provide a car for you to arrive and depart. Do you have something formal to wear?”

“No, not exactly.” He pulled out his wallet and withdrew a business card. “Ask for Veronique. She will ensure you look ravishing.”

“You don’t have to—”

“—Please, I insist.”

To be polite, she took the card.

He smiled with seductive charm. “Now, we should forget about this business for a while. We should simply enjoy each other’s company.”

He refilled her wine glass. She hadn’t realized she’d already finished her first serving. Was it because she was nervous? Or was it because Lorenzo was drawing attention from all the women on the terrace, and even some of the men? He was impeccably dressed and well mannered, and his confident determination exuded a magnetic quality. Laine felt compelled to lean in when he spoke. When he said he would win against his brother, she believed him, which made her feel complicit in their disagreement. She had come to Florence to pick up a painting. She thought it would be a simple task, but now she was getting drawn into a brotherly conflict. Lornezo had said, yesterday, “It’s not about money, it’s about love and art and family.” How many variations of those words had caused blood to flow in the gutters of this country?

“What did you and Antonio fight about before?”

“A woman, of course.” He winked at her.

“And you won?”

He shrugged. “It is generally the woman who wins, is it not?”

Laine drank some more wine. She had no idea. She was a foreigner in a foreign land. In her land, it didn’t seem like women were on the winning side. Not with men like this. Not even with men like Richard, her ex. Laine then thought of Colin. He seemed like the most decent man she’d ever met. She wished she hadn’t run away this morning. She drank a little more wine to soften the sharp edge of regret.

“You seem preoccupied, Miss Dixon,” said Lorenzo leaning back in his chair and studying her. “Is it to do with matters of the heart?”

He seemed so suave and sophisticated. Why would he be the least concerned with Laine’s heart? And yet he waited patiently for her to answer. When she didn’t come up with one, he said,

“Perhaps you are enamored with a particular man?”

He leaned forward then and reached for her hand. His fingers were warm and smooth. Laine started to blush.

“I assure you this man is enamored with you as well.” He gazed into her eyes and Laine had to look away. She cleared her throat.

“I don’t think you… I’m not…” She pulled her hand away and put it in her lap. “I’m involved with someone.” She wasn’t completely sure about this, but she needed some defense against Lorenzo’s charms.

“Here in Italy we do not believe in limits to pleasure and beauty. Look in our museums for the proof.” He tried to hold her gaze again, and she tried to meet his with confidence. She knew mixing business with pleasure with Lorenzo would be a mistake so she jumped at the opportunity to change the subject.

“Which museum do you recommend I visit first?”

He leaned back and appraised her. He seemed to understand she was deflecting his advance, and yet he didn’t seem the least offended.

He took a sip of his wine. “I suggest the Uffizi and the Accedemia, to see Michelangelo’s David, a prime sculptural specimen of the masculine physique.

“Or…” He smiled seductively over the rim of his wine glass. “You could appraise my own collection.
Privately
. We still have all afternoon.”

Laine blushed and took another sip of wine.

Colin

On his way back from dropping off the shoes, Colin saw Laine leave the Hotel Fiore. She didn’t see him. On a lark, he decided to follow her.

She crossed the Ponte Vecchio heading to Oltrano. She looked business-like and pretty as she wove through locals and tourists. She peeked into a few a stalls but kept checking her phone and hurrying along, so he figured she must be going to her work meeting.

He hung back so she didn’t see him. Not that there would be anything wrong with them bumping into each other again. In fact, it might be quite ‘convenient’, but for some reason Colin was content to watch her from a distance, to observe things about her that she might not reveal if he were watching. It occurred to him this was slightly creepy, but his motives were more romantic. He wanted to know so much more about her, but she was slow to reveal herself, still a bit shy and self conscious, which surprised and disappointed him after last night. Wined and dined and undressed, she lost most of her inhibitions. If only Colin could get her alone and naked again…

She turned down a small street that ended at a piazza, which she crossed on a diagonal. Colin hovered on the far side, watching her trajectory. She seemed to be aiming for a café on the far side of the piazza. A lunch meeting then. Colin drew as close as he could while still keeping a visual distance. He would be embarrassed if he got caught following her.

She approached a table. A man stood up to meet her. An exceedingly handsome man…

Colin felt his stomach tighten. The hair on the back of his neck pricked up when this man kissed her hand. What was this? Was this how business was conducted in Italy? Colin noticed his fists were clenched, his jaw, too. He stepped back under a loggia that ran at right angles to the café’s location. Tucked in the arcade was a news stand and espresso bar with a few tables under the loggia. He ordered a coffee, bought a paper, and sat down to watch, just to torture himself. The handsome man poured Laine some wine. She smiled. She sipped. Colin started to seethe.

His imagination was running away on him. Had she’d set up several liasons on this trip? Maybe he wasn’t the only one she was reuniting with… As soon as he thought that he knew he was going mad. That’s not the Laine he knew, the Laine he was
getting
to know. She wasn’t like that.

Now she was smiling and leaning in to whatever this suave Italian yob was going on about. It didn’t look like work. Colin crossed his knee and bounced his leg. Should he walk over and break in? Make it seem like he had just happened to stumble across this particular café, and lo and behold, Fate had brought them together again? No, he knew that would be cheating, and awkward, but he wished he could find some way to break up their tête-à -ête.

Colin’s phone vibrated in his pocket and he nearly fell out of his chair.

“Rudi, now’s not a good time.”

“Why are you whispering?” said Rudi. Colin hadn’t realized he had whispered, as if he were on some sort of surveillance mission. He cleared his throat and switched to his speaking voice.

“What do you want?”

“A rundown, Mate, what else?” Rudi chortled on the other end. “How’s the American Pie?”

Rudi couldn’t see Colin roll his eyes but he did just that. He was getting sick of Rudi’s juvenile attitude.

“Just delightful,” said Colin.

There was a dull pause on the line.

“
Delightful?
I’ve never heard you use that word before. What’s wrong with you, Mate?” Rudi sounded genuinely perplexed.

Colin crossed and uncrossed his legs, his jaw clenching as he watched Laine from across the piazza, watched her laugh with someone else.

“What’s wrong is I’m in the middle of soaking up the beauty of Italy and some yob calls up and interrupts me.”

A longer pause. Then Rudi cleared his throat and said,

“Hey, sorry Mate, just trying to make chit chat.”

“Nevermind. It’s not you. It’s…” But Colin couldn’t put his finger on what it was.

Rudi cleared his throat again. “Listen, looks like the girls have set on Brighton for the mini break. You down with that?”

Girls? Brighton? What was Rudi talking about?

“Amanda said Cassandra’s counting the days till you get back.”

“Bugger,” swore Colin.

“You’re not bailing on me are you?” said Rudi. “You can’t do that, Mate. This Amanda’s the real deal. I’m on to something here.”

Colin looked away from Laine. “I’m just not into her. I can’t spend a weekend having sex with someone I don’t care about. No matter how pretty she is.”

Another pause, not as long, because Rudi broke into gut-splitting laughter. “Not in a million years did I ever think those words would fall out of your mouth. You are messed up.”

“I’ve got to ring off,” said Colin. The man Laine was with stood up and reached out his hand to her. She took it and stood up as well. They were getting ready to leave. Colin noticed a long black Mercedez with tinted windows pull up in front of the café. The driver got out and went to open the back door on the other side. Laine and the man walked toward the car, and then they were behind it and out of sight. Was she getting in the car with him? He knew what that meant. Colin’s heart started racing. He dropped some Euros on the table to pay for his coffee and was about to… To what?… Chase after the car like a mad puppy?

He sat down again and watched the car pull away from the café. It turned down a side street and out of sight. Multiple emotions ricocheted through his mind and body. He was tight with anger and tension, as well as feeling limp with dejection. He felt an urge to run after that bloke and challenge him to a duel, and at the same time he wanted to sit in the gutter and cry his heart out. How could she do that to him? How had this happened?

Colin was thinking of following up his coffee with a Cinzano, or maybe twelve, and then challenging any random bloke to a duel in the piazza — he’d have to find some swords to make it really worth the spectacle — and of course he planned to lose, so his blood would run between those cobbled stones, and then Laine would be sorry. But then Colin pictured Rudi laughing on the sidelines and he knew he was being ridiculous. He’d had a shock is all. He should just walk it off.

He got up and crossed the piazza, as far from the café as he could get, and then he just rambled aimlessly, working out how he’d seal the deal for the painting and get the hell out of Florence as fast as possible. After only one night with Laine (two if he counted Paris, and he realized he did) he could already feel his heart start to crack, but it wasn’t completely broken yet. If he saw her again he was afraid any further breakage might be irreparable.

His mobile vibrated again. It was Laine calling. He was so tempted to answer, but he pictured her in the back of that black car with that Italian Cassanova. Eventually, the rings died out.

A minute later a text came through.

I’m so sorry I can’t meet for dinner now. Work. Museums tomorrow?

He felt his heart crack a bit more. Clearly, she got what she came for. One perfect night with him. And now she was on to the next thing. He felt a bit sick. He didn’t write back. He just kept walking.

Laine

Laine afternoon was not turning out as she expected. She now had a new mission: find something formal to wear. She could not, in good conscience, accept Lorenzo’s offer to provide her with a dress. What time was it back home? She dialed Tina’s cell number.

Groggy-voiced, she answered. “Does the bastard calling know what time it is?”

“Tina, I need your help. I’ve got to find something to wear for a charity event. Lorenzo’s going to officially present the painting to the coalition and I’ve got to get up on a stage and accept it. I need you to help me find something to wear.”