I take my spot by the pool, a tall glass of mineral water beside me (I want wine or an Aperol Spritz, but I can wait until lunch). It’s another lovely perfect day and I’m getting used to the heat now as the summer goes on.
I’ve gotten through a chapter in this new book, when Claudio emerges from the house, wiping his hands on an apron coated in fine white dust.
“Just started with the marble?” I ask him, shielding my eyes from the sun.
He nods. “First cuts. This is the beginning of a very, very long process.”
From what he’s told me, it takes from two-to-four months to complete the sculpture. It’s weird to think that there might be a statue of me here after I’m gone.
The thought twists my stomach and I have to remind myself that everything will work out.
“Allora,” he goes on. “I just talked to Maria on the phone. She and Sofia are coming here for dinner. Emilio will be here, too.”
“Oh, great!” I liked Maria. And the more people over for dinner, the more Claudio tries to show off in his cooking.
“She’s going to take you out for a coffee first,” he hastily adds.
I jerk my chin in. “What?”
“Maria. She’s going to take you for a coffee, probably after lunch. Or a drink, whatever. But just so you know so you can, uh, plan your schedule.” He waves his fingers at me in a roundabout motion, as if the pool is part of my schedule.
“That’s fine, but why does she want to take me out for coffee?”
“Maybe she wants to get to know you.”
Hmmm. I have a strange lump in the pit of my stomach. Something about Claudio’s expression is throwing me off. That man can’t hide anything from me.
“Claudio…” I begin. “What is it?”
“Nothing.”
“Why does she want to get to know me?”
“No reason.”
“Claudio!”
He sighs, squeezing the bridge of his nose, leaving dusty white thumbprints on the bridge. “She knows about us.”
“She knows!” I exclaim, throwing my Kindle down on the grass. “How does she know?”
He shrugs, like he doesn’t have any stake in this. “My parents told her.”
“They what?”
“They are very happy for me, happy for us. They like you a lot, Grace, even if you were a bit anti-social that last night.”
I stare at nothing, shaking my head. I don’t really care that Maria knows we’re together, but I care even more now that she wants to talk to me.
Alone.
In private.
Just the two of us.
“She’s not planning to murder me, is she?” I say, half-joking.
He laughs. “No. Honest. She wants to get to know you. If you are a part of my life, then she wants to know that part of my life.”
I don’t like this. I’m nervous now. Of his own sister. She just seems so wise, and headstrong, and … damn intimidating. The way she roasted Jana? My god.
“It will be fine,” he assures me.
But of course, I can’t help but dwell on it for the rest of the morning, all the way through lunch.
I’m sitting outside on the patio, nursing a glass of wine, trying to calm my nerves when I hear the car doors slam, and then the raucous Italian to follow, getting louder and louder as Claudio and Maria step outside. In the background, Vanni and Sofia dart out from around the corner, and are running around the yard like they’ve just injected themselves with sugar.
“Grace,” Maria says to me, throwing her arms out. Her voice is warm, even though her eyes are trickier to figure out. I get up and she embraces me, kissing me on both cheeks, as I do the same to her. “Are you ready?” she asks, and then nods at my drink. “I will take you to a bar that has the best wine in Lucca.”
Okay, maybe this won’t be so bad.
I get up and go upstairs to grab my purse, and then I’m out front and climbing in the passenger side of Maria’s car.
“Sorry to disappoint you,” she says as she buckles herself in. “But I don’t have my brother’s taste in cars.”
“No, it’s a relief,” I tell her. I don’t even know what kind of model hers is, it just looks old and reliable. “This is a car I can relate to. I can’t relate to Claudio’s collection. I feel like a bull in a china shop.”
“I know that expression,” she says as we quickly reverse out of the driveway and onto the narrow road, the rear of the car nearly smashing into the chapel, but we stop at the last minute. She drives like her brother, though. “Except the china isn’t worth a million dollars.”
My eyes nearly bug out of my head. “His cars are worth a million?”
“Not all, but that one is,” she says, gesturing to the Ferrari out front as we leave Villa Rosa in a plume of dust.
“Wow,” I say, unable to wrap my head around it.
“My brother is very successful, yes?” she says, smiling at me. “I can see from your expression you weren’t sure how much.”
“No,” I say shaking my head. “I mean, I know he’s successful. That is obvious. It’s just … that’s a lot of money. He never seems to, well, give off the impression that he has that much.”
“That is part of his charm, I suppose,” she muses. “But that doesn’t mean other people don’t know. A lot of women have thrown themselves at him, do you know that?”
A hot coal of jealousy flares up inside me.
I swallow. “I can imagine.”
My mind goes back to Marika, to Angelina. Who knows what other gorgeous women are out there that have tried in vain to win Claudio’s heart?
“They throw themselves at him, because they know he is rich,” she goes on. “They are gold diggers, a lot of them. Or they fall in love with the idea of falling in love with an artist.” She lets out a dry laugh. “Little do they know, but loving an artist isn’t so easy. Of course, some say he is handsome too, but that is not for me to comment on.”
I feel her eyes on me briefly, something on her mind.
She adds, “But these women, they don’t have my brother’s best interest at heart. You see, he’s a very open person and I’m always so worried when I see them going after him. I don’t want him to get hurt.”
“I’m sure he takes care of himself,” I say quietly.
“He does. Doesn’t mean I don’t worry.”
I give her a look. “Well, I can assure you that I’m not one of those girls. His money means nothing to me. As for him being an artist, well it just means we have something in common.”
I’m not about to add that I find her brother ridiculously hot and that the sex is absolutely wild.
She observes me for a moment, then brings her eyes back to the road, nodding. “I know that. I can tell. I just wanted to make sure.”
“Is that why you’re taking me out?”
“Yes,” she admits, no qualms in being honest. “But also, I want to get to know you. You mean so much to my brother and, well, I just wanted to welcome you into the family.”
I stiffen up at that.
“What is it?” she asks me.
“Not everyone in the family knows,” I tell her. “Your parents do, and you do, and I’m sure your sisters do.”