He took her hand and shook it. “Glad to meet you.”
“Is . . . is Stefano all right?” She searched his face. It was thin and deeply lined, but she thought she could detect a friendly shimmer in those strangely familiar eyes.
“Yes.” He nodded. “He's at home, recovering. He sent me here, to look after you.”
Carlina smiled. “To look after me?”
“He told me the full story this morning.” His voice was softer than his son's. “You've had a nasty experience.”
“Yes.” His friendliness made her want to cry, but then, she was so tired that even small things managed to push her out of her equilibrium, things she would usually have put away with a laugh.
“You are the Commissario's father?” Fabbiola appeared behind them, her golden jacket gleaming.
Carlina winced. She'd wanted to make a good impression. At least her mother had left her trusted cushion with the stars behind the counter. Probably she felt safe inside Temptation. What a farce.
“Yes, I am his father.” Signor Garini said it simply and with pride.
A rush of warm feeling filled Carlina. He has reason to be proud.
Fabbiola grabbed Signor Garini's hand and pumped it up and down with enthusiasm. “I congratulate you.” She continued to shake his hand as if it was part of some exotic fitness program. “From the bottom of my heart. I often say that your son is an odd man . . .”
Carlina closed her eyes.
“. . . yes, a very odd man, and rather cool and disturbing at times, but I will forgive him everything,” she now added her second hand to her first and pressed both around Signor Garini's hand, “ . . . everything, I say, because he has saved my daughter from that lunatic.”
“Mama.” Carlina gave her mother a strained smile. “I believe there's a customer waiting for a gift wrapping.”
Fabbiola looked over her shoulder and waved at the elegant woman who stood with a tapping foot in front of the cash register. “I'm coming, Signora!” Her voice was loud enough to be heard in the whole centro storico, the historical center of Florence. “But I first have to congratulate this man for his son. He saved my daughter from death by jumping through a hole in the floor.”
The woman looked at the door as if measuring how long it would take her to escape.
Carlina went to the counter and started to chat with her in a low voice while quickly placing her purchase into the gift box. At the same time, she strained her ears to follow the conversation between Signor Garini and her mother, but she couldn't make out the words. Her mother seemed to do all the talking. Oh, God. Whatever will she do next? People say that if you want to judge a woman, you have to look at her mother. Heaven forbid.
Signor Garini, however, seemed to weather the avalanche of motherly gratefulness with a stoic smile and shortly afterward left the store with a friendly nod at Carlina.
She turned to her mother. “Mama!” She spoke low enough that the others couldn't hear them. “Couldn't you have been a little bit less . . . ?“
“Less what?” Her mother looked surprised.
“Less . . . exuberant?”
“My dear.” Fabbiola picked up her cushion and traced the pattern of one golden star with her finger. “I am certainly not willing to be less . . . exuberant, if you want to call it that, when it comes to praising someone who deserves it.”
“He didn't save my life.” Carlina stressed the first word. “It was his son.”
“I haven't forgotten that.” Fabbiola gave her a satisfied smile. “And you don't need to worry. I will express my gratitude to Stefano Garini in no uncertain terms tomorrow.”
Carlina suppressed a shudder. “You won't see him tomorrow.” Thank God. “Tomorrow is Christmas.” Maybe her mother's gratitude would have cooled down by the time the holidays were over. What a nightmare, to imagine that Garini would join them for the Christmas meal, to experience the complete family at full blast, a hyper-grateful Fabbiola, reading the future in no uncertain terms for all of them - if they wanted to listen or not - her aunt Benedetta in a frenzy of cooking, Uncle Teo distributing hopping money-frogs left and right, probably aided by the shattered Frenchman this year, if she knew anything about it, Annalisa in tears because of her dead lover, with her brother Ernesto mercilessly teasing her, Emma self-righteous as if she had never made a mistake in her life, and she, exhausted beyond everything . . . oh no. It was much better if she kept Garini at a distance until their friendship was strong enough to withstand the pressure of her undiluted family.
“You are mistaken.” Fabbiola patted the cushion as if it was a well-behaved dog. “We will indeed see both of them tomorrow because Signor Garini has just accepted my invitation to our Christmas meal. And I will crochet them two extra large stars tonight.”
Epilogue
Emma leaned across the festive table, her eyes glistening in the candle-light. “He gave you a quilt for your bed. You know what that means, don't you?”
Carlina pressed her lips together. “Shut up, Emma.” Thank God the others were all busy in conversation, and for once, Emma had spoken low enough so nobody had overheard them. She looked around the table. The Mantoni family had just finished eating the secondo piatto, the main course, and Carlina already felt as if she would explode if she added another morsel.
It was warm inside the crowded room, the air heavy with the aroma of the opulent Christmas lunch. Thank God her sister Gabriella had decided to spend this Christmas day with her husband's family, or Benedetta's kitchen would have been too small.
To Carlina's left, her mother and aunt Benedetta were focused on explaining how to prepare a savory roast recipe with thyme and rosemary in the true Italian way to Leopold Morin. He seemed to enjoy himself, judging by the faint flush of red on his thin cheeks.
Uncle Teo had pushed his plate aside and showed both Garinis how to fold money into leaping frogs. From their impassive faces, it was hard to tell if they found it riveting or only pretended to do so.
At the far end of the table, Carlina's cousins were sitting, their red-haired heads together. For once, Ernesto and Annalisa weren't fighting. Ernesto was checking out his brand-new telephone while Annalisa looked over his shoulder and commented on his progress.
Good. Carlina took a relieved breath. At the moment, nobody was thinking of their losses, of the people missing around the table tonight, of loved ones lost. Christmas was such an emotional drain, and she had feared that it would be awful this year. Instead, everybody seemed to be intent on making the best of it. Maybe her mother had been right to invite Leopold Morin and the Garinis. With only family present, people were apt to forget civilized behavior much sooner.
Emma touched her arm. “Hey, earth to Carlina. What are you thinking?”
Carlina turned her gaze on her cousin. “I was thinking that families exert more self-control if comparative strangers are present for Christmas. Did you know that January is the busiest time for divorce lawyers? The discrepancy between Christmas expectations and reality is so hard that many crack under the pressure.”
Emma opened her eyes wide. “What strangers are you talking about?”
Carlina blinked. “I'd say that's pretty obvious, isn't it?”
Her cousin grinned. “Uncle Teo told me this morning that Leopold will ask for a sabbatical at his university. He'll move into grandpa's apartment on the ground floor, so from now on, you can quite count him as one of the family.” She giggled. “Isn't it perfect? Leo and Teo. It sounds like a book for children, about a pair of happy mice or something.”
“That's great!” Carlina smiled. The Frenchman seemed to get along so well with everyone, and he would be company for Uncle Teo. Besides, the apartment downstairs would not be so painfully empty anymore. “But why wasn't I told together with you?”
“Because,” Emma shrugged, “you were still asleep by eleven o'clock, when Teo and Leo broke the news, and Fabbiola made us all go around on tiptoes. She said you had escaped the clutches of death by a hair's breadth.” He
r voice rose as she uttered the words in a dramatic way.
“So I have.” Carlina's answer was dry. She did not want to think of Ricciarda.
“Well, and as to the Garinis, it's the same,” Emma made an airy move with her hands. “They're almost family. Which brings me back to my original thought.” She gave Carlina an exaggerated wink. “What did you give Garini for Christmas? It's not a secret, is it?”
“You'd better tell me what Lucio gave you for Christmas.” Carlina knew the answer, because Lucio gave Emma a ring - every year a different one. Carlina had already predicted that Emma would have to grow some more fingers to accommodate them all as the years passed.
However, Emma wasn't fooled. “You know he gave me a ring, as every year, so stop dithering.” She glanced with pride at the new ring on her thumb. “I see you don't want to tell me. Is it a secret, then?”
Carlina did not want to discuss her gift with Emma, who would not understand it in a million years, so she shrugged and turned her back on her cousin. “Let it go, Emma.”
Across the room, she met Stefano's gaze. She had managed to give him a voucher when nobody had looked. A voucher for a full day off, just the two of them, by the sea. Walking along the wintry coast, with the wind in their hair, and no family or murder within fifty kilometers. Taking the time to stop by a nice restaurant, to warm up and eat at leisure, to talk, to get to know each other with time to spare, with nobody else around. Heaven.
Even now, a feeling of warmth pooled deep inside her as she remembered the slow smile spreading over his face when he had read her voucher.
She looked up and met his gaze resting on her. Her smile deepened, and the babble of family conversation melted away, leaving just the two of them. I'm looking forward to next year.
The End
Now that you have finished Charmer's Death, won’t you please consider writing a review? Reviews are the best way for readers to discover great new books.
Enjoy this sneak peek at the third book in the series:
Temptation in Florence #3
Banker's Death
Copyright 2013 Beate Boeker
Excerpt
Chapter 1
“Happy birthday to you! Haaaaaappy birthday toooooo youuuuu.”
Carlina watched the faces of her family with an uneasy feeling as they sang for her cousin Ernesto. It was the first time she had invited Stefano Garini to a family party, making a clear statement about their relationship. When she announced he was coming, all eyes lit up. Message received. By now, they had probably discussed it with every inhabitant of Florence.
She glanced at Stefano out of the corner of her eyes. He sang without apparent emotion, his shoulders propped up against the frame of the door to her aunt Benedetta's kitchen, his light eyes scanning the singing family. Even if you knew him well, it was hard to read the expression on his usually immobile face. Maybe his job as an investigating officer at the Homicide Department had made it a habit to hide his feelings behind a mask. But no. Carlina shook her head. Being withdrawn and self-contained was an integral part of his personality, possibly reinforced by his job, but not forced onto him by his work.
At this moment, he turned his head, and their eyes met.
Carlina's heart did a somersault. How could I think he had an immobile face?
His eyes softened. He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.
Carlina felt as if sudden sunshine had filled the kitchen in spite of the low hanging clouds on this cool spring Sunday.
“Happy birthday, dear Ernestoooooooo, haaaappy birthday toooo youuu!” The family surged forward and hugged Ernesto until all you could see of him was his flaming red hair.
From the other end of the room, Carlina's great-uncle Teo made hushing motions with his hands. “Shhh! Calm down, everyone!” He didn't look intimidating, being small and wrinkled and with tufts of his white hair standing up, but he was dressed in exquisite taste, and there was a quiet authority about him that showed his status as the patriarch of the family more than the ensuing silence, filled with giggles from Annalisa, Ernesto's older sister.
His rheumy eyes shone. “Today, in honor of Ernesto's eighteenth birthday, I have two surprises for you!”
The family broke into an excited babble.
“Silence, please.” Uncle Teo enjoyed his moment in the spotlight. “One of the surprises is a bit late.” He looked at his heavy gold watch. “The other, however, is here right now!”
Carlina looked around her. She had not noticed anything unusual, if you didn't count the fact that Benedetta's apartment was overcrowded with family members.
“May I present the . . . Magic Duo!” Uncle Teo flung both arms wide.
Carlina suppressed a smile. Uncle Teo looked like a ringmaster, announcing the best act of the circus.
Ernesto opened his eyes wide and looked around the room with interest. “What is it?” His gelled hair stood up like little flames.
“The . . . Magic . . . Duo!” Uncle Teo repeated with a booming voice. He strutted to the balcony door and flung it wide open.
On the small balcony, two women stood with broad smiles on their faces and their hands hidden behind their backs. They were dressed identically in black slacks and tight, red tops, but otherwise, they were as different as two women could be. The small one had a rosebud mouth and tumbling curls that made her look like a doll while the taller woman had an impressive chest and reminded one of a Viking by the way she stood with her feet planted wide apart.
“Who are they?” Garini bent his head to Carlina.
“The petite one is Maria. She lives two houses down the street and comes to clean the house regularly.”
“And the tall one?”
“That's Simonetta, a friend of a cousin twice removed.” Carlina smiled at Simonetta. “She lives with my mother at the moment. She's an opera singer who does a special training here in Florence.”
“The Magic Duo!” Uncle Teo was obviously enjoying himself in his role as ringmaster. He pulled the pale yellow curtain from the balcony door to the side and revealed a boom box. With a flourish, he switched it on, and the sound of a circus band blasted out.
On cue, the two women took their hands from behind their backs. They were holding colorful beanbags and started to juggle with obvious proficiency.
Within two minutes, windows opened in the neighboring houses and people leaned out wide to watch the show from the side. The distance between the historical houses on Via delle Pinzochere was so close that they had an excellent view.
Maria and Simonetta threw each other the bean bags and caught them with such speed that the bags turned into a colorful blur.
On the cobbled street one floor down, a group of Japanese tourists stopped and watched while documenting every second of the performance with cameras that looked like the last word in technology. One man was speaking into a voice recorder in rapid Japanese, possibly documenting the exact time and place of this unscheduled show.
“Wow.” Ernesto grinned and grabbed the arm of his best friend Rafaele, who was standing next to him. “Half the town is in an uproar because of my birthday.”
Rafaele nodded. “I am impressed,” he said in his calm way.
“You can't shake Rafaele,” Carlina said in a low voice to Garini. “He's the most placid person I've ever seen, and he's only turned eighteen. I wonder what he'll be like in old age. A rock, probably. I've heard it's in the family. All the Altoris are like that, it seems.”
Garini's lips twitched.
At this moment, the bells of the Basilica di Santa Croce, just around the corner, started to chime the full hour, creating a curious medley with the cheerful circus music.
Carlina got goose bumps. From somewhere, a strange foreboding came and filled her with a sense of danger approaching. She frowned and tried to shake it off. After the death of her American father when Carlina was thirteen, her mother had returned to the family home in Florence, and the bells of Santa Croce were the sound of Carlina's
teenage years. She had listened to them as she got used to her new world, and after some time, they had soothed her, had made her feel that some things at least remained the same and lasted throughout the centuries. So why was she getting the shivers now? She was not going to turn into her mother, seeing unspecified calamities at every turn of the way, even in the middle of a joyful birthday party.
The music came to a crashing crescendo. Maria and Simonetta caught the bean bags and bowed to their audiences inside and outside the house.
Applause came from all sides.
Carlina's mother Fabbiola surged forward and hugged both women at the same time, the strand of henna red hair hanging loose in front of her face. “My darlings! I had no idea you had such hidden talents! You were wonderful!”
Before anybody could answer, the door to the kitchen flew open.
Uncle Teo whipped around and lifted both hands like a prophet on a mountain. The smile across his wrinkled face became even wider. “And here,” he intoned loud and clear, “is my second surprise! Come in, Valentino!”
The man standing in the door could well have been a model. He was of medium height but with well-developed muscles and broad shoulders. His classic dark suit, the shining black shoes and the expensive white shirt enhanced the aura of success and confidence he exuded.
“Valentino!” Ernesto laughed. “So you made it after all!”
The expression of dismay on Uncle Teo's face was almost ludicrous. “So you knew he would be coming?”
“But of course!” Ernesto pushed his way through the family crowd and hugged his cousin. “He wrote about it on Facebook! Ever since he left for Dubai, we've kept in touch via Facebook. It's great!”
Uncle Teo frowned. “What?”
Valentino winked at him over Ernesto's shoulder. “I only promised I wouldn't tell him on the phone, didn't I?”
Uncle Teo pressed his lips together.
Garini lifted an eyebrow. “Slippery customer?” he asked so low only Carlina could hear.
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