Ashes of Autumn (Mina's Adventures Book 4)

by Maria Grazia Swan

  “Los Angeles, of course, is there any other place to land? Ah, Hollywood.” He pronounced Hollywood like a wolf howling–so did most Italians.

  The minute he hung up, Margo let loose…A single, Italian man was coming to town. “You sure you didn’t date him?”

  “No, I told you. I met him at this bar close to the American base in Vicenza, Italy. He was like a manager. I don’t know. He says he is really a lawyer.”

  “Get out of here, a lawyer tending bar for Americans?”

  “It’s not like that. He was working as an informer.”

  “Oh, my God. Is he a spy? Like James Bond?” Margo was salivating. Maledizione.

  “Oh, stop it. He is not a spy. He came to dinner at my friend Emilia’s who is also a lawyer.”

  “I get it, so he was dating your friend Emilia.”

  “Oh, no, no. No one was dating anyone. Damn it, you are confusing me.”

  “It’s not me. It’s you, lack of food. Did you look at yourself in the mirror lately? I bet you lost five pounds. Your friend Jee…what’s his name again? Anyway, him, he would not recognize you. You’d better start eating, and do something with your hair, and what about the cat what are you going to call her…?”

  Dear Margo. In all the madness she remained the stable one. Maybe her style wasn’t for everyone, but right now it felt just right.

  “Okay, you can hand me the list of phone calls to return, and tomorrow I’ll get to it. Okay?”

  Margo came over and hugged her. “Can I do your hair?”

  CHAPTER 18

  Gino landed at the Los Angeles airport on a mild November afternoon. Turned out he had a two-day stop in New York, so he arrived relaxed and well rested. Over multiple phone conversations he had explained he needed help with a car rental, meaning he would appreciate if Mina would assist with the process. Seems he’d been told the L.A. airport could be overwhelming to a foreign visitor. Mina had serious doubts about his self-proclaimed helplessness. The image of a confident and smiling, gun-toting Gino taking charge of a life-threatening situation back in Italy was still clearly embedded in her mind. But what are friends for? She drove to the airport with Margo in her Camaro. No devil, angel, or human could have stopped Margo from being part of Gino’s Welcome Wagon. A single Italian man who didn’t know a soul? That was equal to offering a yummy smorgasbord buffet to a dieting woman.

  Mina spotted him right away, although he looked–different–better than she remembered him. Gone was the pony tail. His hair, no longer pulled back now fell softly around his face and created the illusion of fullness. He might have lost weight, or perhaps it was the exquisite Italian suit he wore helping to convey that impression. Either way, he fit the image she had fed to Margo, a semi-retired Italian lawyer with a good sense of humor, visiting California for a well-deserved vacation. What she never mentioned were Diego and his connection to Gino, or Gino’s prosthesis. Either or both would have required delving into private information or–elaborate lies. She chose the easy way out. She said nothing.

  He smiled at Mina and covered the last few steps between them with open arms, embracing her as he stamped an affectionate kiss on each cheek. “Mina, carissima. Thank you so much for meeting me, and who is this lovely young lady?” He said all that with his eyes on Margo then let go of Mina and bent to kiss Margo’s hand.

  And to Mina’s amazement, brassy and uninhibited Margo…blushed.

  After a quick introduction, Gino slipped his arms under theirs and they walked toward the luggage carousels chatting and laughing like old friends. Gino’s English was marginal, but his hands and facial expression made up what his vocabulary lacked.

  From the luggage arrival it was a long haul to the car rental. Gino seemed to soak in the kaleidoscopic activities of the airport’s travelers. He walked slowly, his limp barely noticeable. At some point he suggested they take a short break at one of the many places offering comfy chairs and colorful drinks. Gino mentioned ‘a flying saucer,’ and after some complicated explanation Mina understood he meant the free-standing place outside the main building that did look like an outer space device. But it would have required a lot of travel on foot while dragging the cart with the two suitcases to get there. They settled for a lounge that looked quiet in spite of the approaching happy hour. Gino promised himself he would visit the flying saucer before catching the flight back. It turned out he had arranged for a one-month stay at the exclusive Balboa Bay Club.

  Mina’s, “Oh!” and Margo’s gaping mouth must have let him know that was no ordinary club. He hurried to explain it was a simple trade. He had exchanged one month at a studio-residence there for a one-month stay at a condo his family owned in Jesolo, a small beach town about a ninety-minute drive from his hometown of Vicenza. Exchange or not, the wow factor lingered. Eventually they made it to the car rental part of the airport, and Mina stood next to Gino while he signed the documents, she finally got a glimpse of his last name–Lovato. Sounded like an old classic family name from the Veneto region. More wow factor rose from their vocal cords when the rental people drove his car up to the waiting area–a silver two-door Audi still sporting temporary plates.

  “Isn’t she a beauty?” Gino asked while walking around with the agent to make sure there was no visible damage.

  Italians always seemed to think of automobiles as “she,” very appropriate since Italian men loved their cars as much, if not more than, their women.

  “1993,” he added. “I have one like it on order back home. This will be excellent practice.” They loaded the suitcases into the trunk, then there was an awkward moment of silence. What now?

  “How about I ride with Gino so he doesn’t get lost, and you follow us in the Camaro?” Margo’s suggestion came out of nowhere.

  If it surprised Gino, he didn’t let it show, or maybe he didn’t fully understand. Glances bounced around. Gino winked at Mina. He understood.

  She offered her open hand, and Margo put the car keys on the palm. “You two be careful,” Mina said, then by impulse she hugged Gino and whispered in Italian, “Not a word about Diego.”

  Without missing a beat he replied, “Of course I’ll take care of lovely Margo, of course.” And off they went.

  She walked back to retrieve the Camaro, taking her time. She sat in Margo’s car, putting the top on, adjusting the seat, the side and rearview mirrors. This was her first time driving her roommate’s automobile. Not something she enjoyed doing, regardless of whose car it was.

  Something about this whole Gino business made her uncomfortable. His arrival was a mixed blessing. While he forced her to get out of the house and slowly resume normal life, or what might be perceived as normal, his presence was a constant reminder of Diego’s absence.

  She recalled that evening when she had too much Prosecco and told herself Diego’s loss was akin of losing a limb. What better example than Gino’s? He lost his left foot, wore a prosthesis in such a natural way that she only discovered it when he made it a point to show her. He reclaimed his life and moved on as whole as before. Time for her to follow his example. As for the real purpose of his American vacation, he was playing on her turf. She had the home field advantage. Advantage for what? She shrugged and turned on the engine.

  Traffic on the 405 South was about what she expected, heavy. She forced herself not to think about it. It was what it was. Stressing over it wouldn’t change a thing. She thought about another time when she drove away from the airport heavy hearted, that time back in 1989. She was rushing back home to Mission Viejo to face the death of her mother. Why must all her trips back from LAX be painful? In the encapsulated solitude of the car, memories of Kathy and Diego kept tearing at her soul. For over seventy minutes she fought tears and regrets and was thankful to finally get off the 405 and head to Newport Beach. The irony of Gino’s place being so close to her old condo wasn’t lost on Mina. More damn memories of that cheating cad, who saved her life not once but twice, the better to break her heart. Stop it.

  The g
uard at the gate of the Balboa Bay residences easily found her name and let her through. It appeared Gino Lovato was a fast learner. Already screening his visitors. Mina was familiar with the restaurant and bar of the members-only club. She recalled having to participate in a boring affair where Adams was getting some kind of award in a room full of older men in dark suits and women with fluffy bleached hair and forever tanned bodies complemented by large breasts and bony arms. Now she would get to see the rest of the joint, the residences as the members liked to call the pricey studios and apartments inside the gated complex. She left the Camaro in an open-air marked space and walked to the lobby of the middle building as instructed at the gate. The elevator stopped on the 3rd floor where a smiling Margo waited for her. So obvious was the level of her friend’s excitement that Mina assumed the weight of the huge earrings she wore were the only thing keeping her grounded.

  “Holy crap, Mina, did you know that Gino raised four sisters? All by himself. Isn’t that amazing? And get this, the last one just got married, and that’s why he is on vacation. Finally no more responsibilities, and he said they all married well.” She was still gushing about the sisters when they reached his place.

  Mina took it all in. The length of the studio was the width of the building if you didn’t count the terrace. Decorated in pastel colors and classic furniture, it looked very inviting and probably belonged to a woman. Mina assumed the couch doubled as bed. And since no suitcases were visible, a walk in closet had to be hiding behind the single closed door. An open bottle of something cooled in a wine bucket on a breakfast bar dividing kitchen and living room. How did he manage to get all that accomplished in such short time? Unless he ordered in advance. So what? None of her business.

  She turned down the drinks making excuses about getting home to feed the kitten. Annoyed that Margo avoided her eyes on purpose, she wasn’t at all surprised when her roommate finally announced she would stay to help Gino unpack, and he would drive her home. Mina had trouble controlling her tongue. She could have driven straight home and saved forty-five minutes on the road and a bad taste in her mouth. She felt deep down that Margo was about to get hurt, big time. Curse all Italian men.

  CHAPTER 19

  It was about eleven at night when she heard the key turn and the front door opening. “Shhss, we must be quiet,” Margo whispered.

  Mina turned on the light in her bedroom, and since she had left her door wide open the whole upstairs hall lit up. She waited.

  “Are you awake?” Margo cooed from downstairs.

  “No, the cat turned on the switch.” She meant to sound sarcastic; instead she got a hearty laugh from…Gino? Might as well grab a robe and join them. Why in hell did Margo bring him here? Mina couldn’t remember the last time either of them did any housecleaning. She had the feeling Gino Lovato was one of those people like… what was that word again? Perfectionist. Yes, that. She went downstairs, the cat at her heels. Margo only had the living room lights on. Thank God, the dust shouldn’t be so obvious.

  Gino wore the same slacks and shirt he had on earlier but no coat or tie. “Mina, I’m loving California weather. It doesn’t feel like November at all. It’s like spring in Vicenza.” All the excitement shaved ten years off his face.

  It also reminded her of the way she reacted when she first arrived in America, the sense of wonderment at so many little things locals took for granted. It must be twice that powerful for Gino. He was, after all, older, and he came alone, without close friends or family to rely on. He would be here for a short month. It was her duty, as a compatriot and a sort of friend, to help him make the best of that time, and if he dared to break Margo’s heart it was her duty to kill him with her bare hands or something to that effect. With that in mind she walked into the living room in a more likeable mood.

  “A comfortable home you have here, Mina. Margo gave me the tour of the complex, nice, very nice, gated, pool, covered parking, and even a room for working out. It would make a perfect retirement place.”

  Mina smiled at his covered parking comment. With all of Italy’s natural wonders and priceless art work, more than one Italian would happily trade some decrepit statue for a parking spot to call his own. Gino didn’t mention the house that blew up. Was it possible he didn’t know? How about Diego? I always know where you are. You have a special place in my heart. He knew what to say to make a girl feel special. Was he saying the same thing to the exotic beauty? Maybe she was in Italy with him.

  “Something wrong, Mina?”

  As usual, she wore her emotions on her face. “No, all good. So, Gino, big plans ahead?”

  “Big plans? No, tourist stuff. I’m going to visit all the usual places, starting from San Diego and all the way to San Francisco.”

  “Who’s going to San Francisco?” Margo overheard the last comment.

  “You’re welcome to join me.” Gino was all smiles watching Margo set down a large tray with stem glasses and a bottle of Prosecco that had been sitting in their fridge for weeks. Mina sent thanks to the gods above that the visibility was low, she had no doubts Margo just rinsed the glasses sitting dirty in the dishwasher.

  “Tomorrow I’m taking Gino to the grocery store. Do we need anything?” Margo volunteered, making it sound like they were such organized house buddies. Ah!

  The kitten must have felt ignored because out of the blue it hopped on Gino’s legs, hanging on the slacks with all its might. “Ouch. Hey, kitty, stop it. Mina what’s the name of your annoying cat?”

  “No name.”

  “Its name is no-name?”

  “No, no, I mean I haven’t named the cat.”

  “How sad.” He stroked the cat’s head. “Probably why it’s so pesky. Let’s pick a name. I’ll go first. Romeo.”

  Margo and Mina laughed. “It’s a she. And we are not going to call her Juliet,” Mina said.

  “Bamba,” Margo suggested.

  “Your turn, Mina, come on already. Gino is right, time-to-name-that-cat.” She jokingly sounded like the announcer of the Name That Tune game show.

  “She’s very special to me,” Mina choked a little. “When I was at my lowest, she was the only thing that kept me going. She was as important as the air I breathed, and…”

  “Then you should call her Aria, like the air you breathe, but in Italian,” Gino said.

  “Aria,” Mina repeated sottovoce, then a little louder, “Aria. I love it. It’s perfect. Grazie, Gino.”

  Margo proposed a toast to Aria, the new member of the household, and the three of them drank their Prosecco with much gusto from the cloudy stem glasses.

  After that evening Mina saw a lot less of Gino and Margo. True to his word he took daily trips to visit surrounding tourist attractions, even ventured into Tijuana for a few hours. Every evening he would drop Margo back home, and Mina forced herself not to ask too many questions. She had no doubt that if they became intimate Margo would rush home to ring her neck for not warning her about Gino’s prosthesis. So Mina didn’t ask any details about their relationship or the lack of it. It was now day six and knowing the impulsive nature of her roommate, the lack of news of the sexual kind had her wondering if perhaps she misread the clues. Maybe Gino and Margo were friends, buddies, nothing more, or maybe Gino was gay. That was possible. She had never heard him comment on women’s sex appeal. He always used words like lovely, charming, and such. The kind of attributes that would apply to women from one to ninety-three. Huumh.

  That night Margo came back so excited Mina had to ask her to calm down a little so she could understand her. The Balboa Bay Club was having a gala, some kind of Enchanted Evening dinner-dance for members only. Gino had been invited, and he wanted her, Margo, to go as his date. She repeated the word date about a dozen times then went on saying they would go shopping for a dress and Gino wanted to go with her.

  Could Gino dance? Mina had no idea. And this would be their first date? It was getting harder to keep her mouth shut. However, it appeared reality was about to come knocking
. All of Margo’s excitement was rubbing off on her, and she offered to join the shopping expedition the next day.

  Gino came by early in the afternoon in his Audi, and they headed to South Coast Plaza.

  To Mina and Margo this was just another trip to the mall. To Gino however it was like opening the door to a whole new world. He found the general concept to be an excellent use of space. People could shop in comfort regardless of the weather. Families could bring the kids and leave them to be entertained while they went to spend their hard-earned cash. He studied the list of available designer shops, but the ladies had other ideas. They dragged him along to Nordstrom, a store he had never heard of. Mina and Margo had done this before, to fill time on boring afternoons, they would go to the designer section at Nordstrom and pretend to be shopping for bridesmaid dresses, just to see what they would look like in this or that dress. On the way up the imposing staircase (no elevators for Gino who wanted to see everything) he was even more impressed by the pianist filling the air with light classical music.

  Magnifico had become his most repeated word of the day. When they reached their destination Margo made a beeline for the gaudy sequined gowns she loved while Mina headed to the Valentino section to see what was new. After all, the holidays were just a calendar page away. It took Gino about four minutes to assess the situation, or so Mina thought, then he headed over to the wild and crazy party dresses corner where Margo was busy picking and choosing, and he proceeded to talk to her. From time to time he fingered the rack, and at some point he held Margo’s hand. Mina couldn’t hear the conversation, but something told her Gino wasn’t into Technicolor sequined gowns.

  It struck her how well Gino fit in the designer section. She got used to his suits and ties, but now the difference between him and most of the other male shoppers was obvious. She mentally compared him to Diego who seemed to always blend in. On the plus side, the salesladies were trampling over each other to help him out. No one seemed in any hurry to ask if Mina needed a fitting room. Maybe this was a mistake. They had come here to try on clothes as a game but neither Margo nor Mina had actually ever purchased a thing up in the designer section. This was their fantasy spot. The real clothes they bought at the lower level, at much discounted prices. She didn’t want to appear to ogle her friends’ every move so she went to check out a sale rack. It was hard to escape the fact that Gino’s busy little helpers were collecting every dress he pointed to. Mina wasn’t sure what they were taking to the fitting room, Margo’s size? She wore a ten. Finally Margo followed a clerk with the last stack of dresses. Time for show and tell.