Full Moon in Florence (5 page)

“What? Why?”

“No one’s supposed to know, but I needed to give you a heads up. I’m being courted by the MOMA for a secondment. It’s the final interview.”

Laine’s mouth turned down in a sad frown. “You can’t leave us. We’d be a rudderless ship.”

He gave her a weak smile. “You’re being too generous. Believe me I know you’ve been running this ship these last couple months, and I’m going to make that known if, or rather when, I tender my resignation.”

“New York?” Laine sat back in her chair, trying to fathom it. She’d been working with Mark for almost eight years. First at the de Young, and then when he’d taken over as Head of Acquisitions for the San Francisco Fine Arts Coalition, he’d hired Laine a few months later. They worked well together. She couldn’t imagine him moving, and so far away.

“You can’t go.”

“You’d go if you were me. I have no wife, no kids, no ties here except friends.” Here he smiled at Laine and said, “And I’m counting on the best of them visiting me in the big apple as often as they can.”

“The office staff will be sad to see you go. They’ve got it in their heads that we’re a thing, you know.”

He caught her eye. “Oh, what might have been if you hadn’t turned me down at that first staff Christmas party years ago.”

Laine started to blush. They’d shared one awkward but technically accurate kiss. No chemistry. On the outside they looked like they’d make a good couple, but on the inside they were only the best of friends. Mark dated now and again, but without much enthusiasm, and for years she wondered if he might be gay. Why he wouldn’t come out in the most openly gay city in the world, she didn’t know, which made her doubt her assumptions. Though they worked closely together, they usually steered away from romantic or sexual discussions. Until now.

“We weren’t a good fit.”

“But think of all the dinner parties we could have hosted.” Just like Mark to make a joke of a minor ego defeat.

“I’m happy for you,” said Laine. “About the new position. I’ll keep quiet until you decide to make the announcement.”

“You’ll be next in line for my job, Laine.”

“Meaning I’ll start showing up hungover after three-martini lunches?”

“Meaning this painting you bring back will be the centre of the next exhibition. After that you’ll be part of the upper echelons of acquisitions and exhibitions. I’m guessing you’ll be able to introduce some of your good programming ideas, if you want to.”

“I don’t want to do any of it if it means you’ll stay.”

“We all have to seize the opportunities presented to us. Like you going to Florence.”

A small smile tugged at Laine’s lips. Florence represented more than a work opportunity for her.

“Carpe diem?” said Mark.

“Carpe diem,” echoed Laine.

Laine

The little boutique hotel overlooking the Arno made Laine feels as if she’d stepped into an EM Forster novel. Tina had changed her reservation at the last minute claiming Laine now needed a more romantic backdrop for her extracurricular activities. Laine told her she didn’t care so long as Tina stayed within the budget.

Now, thanks to Tina, Laine found herself happily ensconced in a quaint room with a view of the Arno. Breakfast was included, and at check in the Signora at the front desk had told her about various city walks, museums, day trips to the Tuscan countryside, and boat rides down the river.

“I’m here for work,” Laine had said.

The Signora had tilted her head, tapped Laine’s hand, and winked. “There’s always time for pleasure,” she said. “And it’s springtime. Amore is in the air.”

Laine smiled and took the brochures up to her room. She definitely planned to visit the most important museums and indulge in a few gelatos, but she only had five days. Work had to come first, and then she hoped Colin would come second.

She had already built up their reunion into a big thing. She had convinced herself he was “the one”. She knew this was dangerous. She knew she hardly knew him, in real terms, but in other ways, in the ways that mattered to her heart, she felt she knew him more than she knew herself. Tina would call her crazy. Romantic as well, but definitely crazy. Tina would support this kind of crazy, in the name of personal pleasure, but she would raise at least one eyebrow if Laine mentioned her hope for love. Real love.

True love.

“He’s your rebound,” Tina had said once already. “These can be the best types of relationships for getting your hair on straight and you big ‘o’s in order, for having fun and pushing your limits to find out who you are now. But remember you’re in a phase of
becoming
. When you arrive at the door of your new self you can take some new suitors seriously.” Laine didn’t think she had the patience for so much strategy. She’d been standing at the edge of the altar with Richard less that a year ago. She’d been ready to take the plunge. She didn’t want to go back to the rounds of dating and wondering and being disappointed.

She sat down on the bed and slipped off her shoes. It was too much to lay on Colin. He’d think she was crazy for sure, give her a wide, berth, think, ‘oh no, another one of
those
women
trying to wrestle me to a house in the country and a minivan’. It wasn’t that exactly. That wasn’t Laine’s dream. She didn’t mind the country and cared little what car she drove. It wasn’t the part time trappings she cared about, it was the full time love. The feeling of someone being in her corner, having her back, lying by her side in the middle of the night.

She stretched out on the silk brocade bedspread, feeling the overnight flight taking its toll. She should really go for a little walk and try to stay up until after dinner.

Colin

Colin’s short flight from Gatwick touched down in the late afternoon a day earlier than he’d initially planned. He’d wanted to settle in a day ahead of time, and he’d changed his hotel from a business chain to more romantic accommodation, in case things went well with Laine. Rudi’s mom had recommended a small hotel close to the Arno. As the taxi pulled up out front he thought,
This is perfect
. His second thought:
Perfect for what
?

Was he getting ahead of himself thinking everything would fall romantically into place with Laine, whom he hardly knew? Was he being presumptuous? Was he being promiscuous? The girl from the pub, Cassandra, had insisted he call her when he returned from his business trip. She had been very disappointed that nothing had happened that night at the pub. She had practically been sitting in Colin’s lap by the end of the evening, and though her friend Amanda had gone off somewhere with Rudi, Colin had ducked out of a nightcap because he had an early meeting. Which happened to be true. Once Keenan, Lady Allbright’s assistant had confirmed the Italy trip, he’d sent several emails to arrange a morning meeting to go over details, strategies and the signing of contracts. Colin had acted like a wanker with his nose in his phone most of the night, setting up the trip, but Cassandra hadn’t given up. She kissed him long and hard before climbing into a cab and said, for probably the fifth time that evening, to call her as soon as he got back from Florence.

Colin had been worried he’d been off his game by not accepting her invitation to go back to her flat, but the truth was, his heart wasn’t in it. That hadn’t bothered him before but for some reason it did now. And he suspected it had something to do with Laine Dixon.

At the front desk of the Hotel Fiore, the Signora gave him the once over. She arched an eyebrow.

“You are alone?”

“For now.” He winked.

“That’s the spirit.” She smiled.

“I’m actually here for work,” said Colin handing over his credit card.

“All the young ones say that. Work, work, work. No time for love. But love is all there is. Love is all anybody wants.”

“Seems like this would be a perfect place to look for love.”

The Signora beamed. Her eyes crinkled and sparkled. “I think you will find it. I see it in your eyes.”

Colin was quite sure she said this to all of her guests but he smiled and nodded along with her.

“You do have beautiful green eyes,” said the Signora, staring more intently at him. Then her mouth turned down at the corners and her voice dropped a notch.

“Whoever chooses to look into those eyes will be rewarded for many, many years, but also challenged.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you are a man who looks too much with his eyes and not enough with his heart.”

Colin was taken slightly aback. It seemed too personal a comment.

“I don’t know if that’s true,” he said, feeling slightly doubtful. Or was that why he’d never fallen in love? He’d fallen in lust countless times, and grown very affectionately attached to a handful of lovers, so attached that he’d convinced himself that feeling was love, but deep down he knew it wasn’t, because deep down he longed for something so much bigger and deeper and truer, but he couldn’t know for sure if what he longed for was actually possible.

The Signora blinked several times and then smiled broadly. “What was I saying? Don’t listen to an old woman’s ramblings. Love is in the air. Love is all there is.”

Colin nodded again but felt just a little thrown off track.

“Can you recommend a good place for dinner one night? A romantic dinner.”

“Go to Giammo’s. He will take care of you. Tell him I sent you. No tourists. Only lovers.”

She patted his arm. Very quietly she added, “You will find her here.”

“Excuse me?”

“Yes, can I help you?” said the Signora, seemingly oblivious to her last statement.

“No. Grazi. Goodnight.” Colin smiled and shook his head, thinking,
Crazy Italians
.

He took the tiny elevator up to the first floor and checked into his room. It was fairly spacious with a view over the rooftops rather than the river. He dropped his bag on the silk brocade bedspread. He then poked his nose into the bathroom, happy to see that it was fitted with an actual tub and not just a shower. He imagined candles, scented oil, Laine flushed and soft emerging from the water as he handed her a towel…

Chiding himself for letting his romantic ideas get ahead of him, he hung up his suit jacket in the wardrobe, changed his shoes, and headed out for a coffee on the piazza. It was almost worth a trip to Italy just for a cup of coffee. He wasn’t sure when Laine was scheduled to arrive. He was pretty sure it was tomorrow afternoon, which would give him time to meet with his Italian contact, Rafaello, in the morning. He would then introduce Colin to the seller, and if all went as smoothly, as it usually did, he’d be free to “play” for the rest of the time. Of course, Laine had work to do as well, but Colin was determined to distract her to the best of his ability. Bollocks to convenience. As the Signora had said, “Love is all there is”.

He practically skipped down the stairs. He even started whistling before catching himself. He needed to calm down. He hadn’t felt this excited for years. It wasn’t that he really, truly believed that love was the answer to everything — he’d never straight out confess that, not even at gunpoint — but if he were to be honest with himself, and he should at least do that, he would have to say that it was a bigger force than he’d heretofore let himself believe or live by, and, at this point in his life, he sensed it was getting bigger every day. It’s not that he wanted to give up… what was it?…
variety
? The very thought made him shudder, but this past year he’d sensed a depth lacking in his amorous encounters. The only exception had been Laine.

But it was just one night, he reminded himself. Might have been a fluke, which was why this trip was so timely. He could have another go. It was like research. If he felt as bored as he had the other night with Amanda, no, that was her friend… with
Cassandra
, yes, that was it, then he’d make the best of his one night stand reunion with Laine and go on his merry, if slightly disappointed, way. No harm done. But if he didn’t… If he felt something more?… He had no actual plan for that. It would be like crossing into uncharted territory.

Stopping by the front desk he asked the Signora for the wifi password and was not surprised when she mumbled,
amore vero
, which meant true love in Italian.

Laine

Laine woke up as the sun went down. She’d lost the afternoon. She’d also lost any sense of knowing where she was on the planet. She moaned, wishing he could hook up to an IV espresso machine. She rolled off the bed and went to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face. Looking around the small room, she was disappointed to see there was only a shower. Maybe that was the trade off for a view of the river.

After brushing her hair and teeth, donning a light layer of lipstick and a fresh blouse, she gazed out at the view. The sun, very low, glanced gold light over the river Arno and the stone bridges. It was scene out of a fairy tale.

“And tomorrow I’ll meet my Prince Charming,” she murmured. Then her stomach growled. She slipped on her shoes, grabbed her purse, and headed down to the front desk to ask the Signora about finding food, and the wifi password —she probably had several work emails already waiting for her — but the Signora wasn’t at her post.

Laine peeked into the common area sitting room off the small lobby. At one end of the room she saw a half dozen round tables, which was likely where breakfast was served. At the other end, toward the street side, she saw several clusters of chairs, sofas, and winged-backed chairs, some of them gathered in front of a small fireplace. Someone was sitting in one of those wing-backed chairs reading a newspaper, but all she saw was a hand, the curled paper pages, part of a pant leg, and the top of a dark-haired head. She turned back to the lobby but the Signora still hadn’t appeared. An older couple entered the front doors. As they passed her, chattering in German, the wispy white-haired woman smiled at her and her husband tipped his hat. Laine felt as if she’d stepped back in time, or into a period movie, as she watched the older couple cross the old-fashioned lobby. Then she heard a distinctly modern sound: the trilling of a cell phone. A voice from the common room cut off the trilling with a “Hello”.