Authors: Jamie Anderson
Another pause.
Calia eyed his austerely handsome profile with interest.
“So what’s a Diamanti doing travelling on something so banal as a train anyway?
Curiosity about how the other half lives, perhaps?”
He gave her a look of dislike.
“It is Sunday.
I did not have to be anywhere this afternoon.
I like train travel
—
it gives me time to relax a little, as I could not do if I drove.”
She snorted.
“Relax.
Right.
By booting up your laptop.
You’re not going to convince me you were playing Solitaire on there.”
“Nor would I try
—
not when there is also Minesweeper.”
She gave him a startled look, before letting out a burst of laughter.
“So what’s with the suit and tie, then?”
He looked discomfited.
“I discovered I did not have any casual clothes at my apartment in Milan.”
They turned onto a winding drive lined with cypress trees, eventually pulling up in front of a whitewashed villa with red-tiled roofs that was right out of a tourist magazine.
As soon as Gio parked, Calia got out of the car and drank in her surroundings, trying not to blink as she took in the beauty of an old orchard to the right of the house, and row upon row of lush, green vineyards stretching off to the left.
The villa itself perfectly fit Calia’s notion of the quintessential Italian getaway.
Nestled into the ‘U’ of the surrounding house was a rustic entryway, smothered in carefully overgrown climbing roses, leading into an idyllic courtyard garden.
Calia breathed in the heavy, sensual fragrance of the blossoms as she looked around her, a dreamy smile curving her lips.
From somewhere inside the courtyard, she could hear the splash of a fountain.
“This is absolutely gorgeous,” she murmured on a sigh.
“How can you bear to leave this place?”
She turned to find her companion staring at her, the hint of a puzzled smile lifting the corner of his mouth.
“It is pleasant enough, I suppose, but I have a living to earn.”
“It’s probably one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen.”
“And from that I will infer you also have a penchant for hyperbole.”
Calia had to laugh.
“’A penchant for hyperbole’?
Where do you dig up these phrases?”
She shook her head, still grinning.
“But, for the record, I never exaggerate.”
She slanted him a cocky look.
“Everyone says so.”
“Gio!”
The shout, followed by a flood of Italian, drew Calia’s attention to a middle-aged couple emerging from an entrance on the left side of the villa.
It was the woman who had called out, and she continued to speak as she bore down on Gio, her arms open.
The man walked over to the car, opened the trunk, and began removing its contents.
A grinning Gio was trying to extricate himself from the woman’s loud, smacking kisses to each cheek, even as she continued what appeared to be a lengthy tirade of some sort.
Gio raised his voice over the woman’s to express some kind of protest at the man, who waved it away and swung Calia’s backpack onto one shoulder.
Calia stood back and enjoyed the spectacle of her hitherto aloof rescuer being subjected to such a hearty, Italian greeting.
Impossible to maintain any kind of dignity while being railed at by an ebullient, ruddy-cheeked woman whose energy carried the impact of a force of nature.
Calia chuckled as the woman pulled a disdainful expression while gesturing at Gio’s suit.
But, all too soon, Calia’s smile faded as the woman’s attention turned to her.
She gave Calia a once-over, her eyebrows rising and her expression suddenly neutral.
She said something to Gio in Italian.
Calia glanced at him, surprised to find that he seemed at something of a loss.
She pasted on her brightest smile.
“So how about introducing us, then?
Is this your mother?”
A pause, during which Gio and the woman wore almost identical expressions of surprise, before they both started laughing.
Calia felt the heat rising to her cheeks.
“I am the housekeeper here, Miss,” the woman eventually said, still chuckling.
“But I have known Gio since he was small-small.”
She held a hand out, low to the ground.
“I have… how you say?… blistered his backside often enough over the years.”
Calia laughed
—
as much at the image it conjured as at the phrase itself.
A glance at Gio revealed only the slightest flush to his olive complexion.
“That’s exactly how we say it, in fact.”
She held out her hand.
The other woman grinned and shook it.
“I’m Calia Ryan.
Gio was kind enough to help me out of a tight spot earlier today
—
and he compounded that by offering his hospitality, while I sort out a few complications.”
“That’s my Gio,” the woman said, with an approving nod at the man in question.
“He has always been a good boy, even though these days he thinks himself the big, fancy executive.”
Gio said something in Italian as he frowned at the woman.
Her only response to him was a dismissive wave of her stubby fingers, before she returned her attention to Calia.
“I am Larissa.
You must ask me if there is anything you need while you are staying here.
Do you have a favourite food?
Something I can cook for you, maybe?
But what am I thinking?
Come inside!
I will make coffee, and you can sit down a little, before going to your room to freshen up, if you want to…”
She turned and bustled back into the house, still chattering as she went.
When Calia looked over at Gio, he was watching Larissa’s retreating back, an affectionate grin tilting his lips
—
and for a moment, she forgot to breathe.
If he had been handsome when he was angry, he was now absolutely devastating.
She shook herself from the spell, even as he turned to her, his grin acquiring an ironic twist.
He inclined his head at her.
“And may I say it is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Miss Calia Ryan?”
The emphasis on her name made her realize that she had forgotten to introduce herself to him earlier.
He gestured towards the door.
“
Prego.
After you.”
* * *
Once they were ensconced in the high-ceilinged great room, with its cool tiles and breezy, rustic décor, Larissa bustled in from the kitchen, carrying a tray laden with coffee, cups and an assortment of breads, cheeses and fruit.
The calzone on the train had been hours ago, and Calia suddenly realized how hungry she was.
The smell of the coffee and food had her stomach rumbling.
“This looks fabulous, Larissa.
Thank you so much!” she exclaimed.
Larissa beamed, setting the tray down at the table.
She gestured towards it.
“
Prego
.
Please, help yourself.”
Then, after watching to ensure Calia did just that, she turned her attention to Gio.
“Oh, and
that woman
has been by here twice since you left,” she said, her manner cool.
“I told her that you would be in touch if you wanted to speak to her.
But she says she will see you tonight.”
Gio grimaced.
“
Grazie, Larissa.
I will deal with it.”
“Good.
Because I am tired of
that woman
sniffing around here all the time.”
As she fixed her coffee and helped herself to some treats, Calia remained tuned into the exchange, alert with curiosity.
“She sounds like quite a favourite with you, Larissa,” she commented, before taking a sip of coffee.
The other woman let out a snort.
“A viper, that creature,” she said, holding her thumb and middle finger together for emphasis.
“And she’s set her fangs for this one.”
She nodded her chin at Gio.
“I warned him.
I told him already, ‘this woman is not one to give up easily.’”
“A fact of which ‘he’ was already aware,” Gio interjected wryly.
“Ah.”
Calia hid her smile behind her cup of coffee.
After all, she could quite see why a woman might set her cap for the likes of Gio.
“And she said she was going to be at the reception tonight?” Gio asked.
Larissa nodded.
“So she said.”
“
Che cavolata.
”
He expelled an irritated sigh.
“Surely it couldn’t be all that bad?
Why not just make it clear that you’re not interested?”
Calia glanced from one to the other of them.
“I have,” he ground out.
“The problem is that she is married to Paolo, one of Gio’s closest friends,” Larissa explained.
“Paolo adores her.”
“Paolo is not just a good friend.
He is also one of my key men.
He’s a genius with figures and accounts.”
“Right.”
Calia nodded as understanding seeped through.
“So if you’re too blunt with her, then she might complain to Paolo.”
“And who knows what she might tell him,” Larissa interjected.
“I would not put it past that woman to lie
—
to say that it was Gio who made the advances.”
She shook her head.
“
Basta così.
I have wasted enough of my time talking about that woman.
If you would call me when you are done, I will show you to your room, Calia.”
“I can show her to her room, Larissa,” Gio interjected.
“
Grazie.
A presto.
”
And she bustled out of the room.
Calia frowned at Gio.
“I can see that your situation’s awkward, but presumably, her behaviour’s already arousing Paolo’s suspicions.
So why not just tell him the whole story?”
“It is not something you can easily tell your best friend
—
that his wife is catting about town at every opportunity.”
Gio gave her a withering look.
“Not that it is any of your concern in the first place.”
“Fair enough.”
Calia sipped her coffee, resolved on minding her own business.
But she couldn’t let it go.
She had been on the other end of a similar situation in college, when a guy she was casually dating made the moves on her best friend
—
who had told him off in no uncertain terms, before letting Calia know what had happened.
Though it put a strain on things for a little while, as Calia sorted out her reactions, the friendship had ultimately grown stronger for having been tested.
Calia shifted, frowning.
“But still
—
“
“Oh, here we go,” Gio muttered.
“I really think he should know.
I mean, isn’t that what friendship’s about?”
“It is not something you throw into everyday conversation.
I will find the opportunity to tell him.”
“I would think you should be making the opportunity.”
“Now is not the time.
We are in the midst of important negotiations and I need Paolo at his best, not working at half-mast.”
Calia’s mouth dropped open.
“You would put business ahead of your best friend’s welfare?”
“This is not something Paolo will take well.
He will go to Antonia and ask her about the situation.
I’ve no doubt she will lie to him
—
and she may turn him against me.
Things will get messy.
I will need to be prepared.”
Calia rolled her eyes.
“Prepared how?
I mean, don’t you owe him the truth, regardless of how he chooses to deal with it?”
“Now is not the time.”
He spoke between clenched teeth.
She snorted.
“It never will be, as long as there’s another deal to negotiate.
With Paolo’s much-needed help, no doubt.”
“You would not understand.”
“No.
I guess I wouldn’t.
As far as I’m concerned, playing with money and numbers is fun and all
—
but not at the cost of human sacrifice.”
Calia threw him a dark look.
He gave her a cold smile.
“Ah yes, your penchant for hyperbole.”
He stood.
“Come, I will show you to your room.”
But though she followed him, Calia was too riled up to let the subject slide.
“I’m not exaggerating.
I mean, how much more hurt is he going to be if he finds out the truth down the line
—
and then learns that everyone but him knew what was going on?”