Bella Natale

by Marianne Evans

  “Gianni Manto. And, no, you can’t steal him.”

  Jianna’s tease was ages old, since a number of artists crossed through the sales lines of both their shops. Luca tucked his fingers beneath the spot where Jianna’s rested; he grinned and gave her hand a tender squeeze. “Mind that jealous bite of yours, love.”

  “I’ll try. Speaking of artists, and business, I hear you’re meeting with Stephano to pitch the work of a new discovery.”

  “Yes. She’s extraordinary. Will you be joining us?”

  “Sadly, no. I have a vendor meeting at about the same time.”

  Luca made a hum of acknowledgment but stopped in front of a spinning metal rack that featured a display of leather folios in all different colors. Some were big, some were small, but all were twined closed by a leather string and all of them, once opened and expanded, contained photographs of Florence bundled beautifully for gift giving or as a keepsake for any image-hungry tourist.

  He slipped a large, blue version from its resting spot and addressed Jianna. “Mind if I borrow this? I’ll return it after the meeting.”

  “Not at all. Let’s have coffee sometime soon. The three of us.”

  Used to be four. Luca missed being part of four, but shoved away from that bitter slide. “Absolutely. I’d love it.”

  They reached Stephano’s half-closed office door and Jianna pushed it the rest of the way open for him. She stretched on tip-toe to kiss his cheek. “Give Vincenzo a hug for me, and bring him by next time. I just received a few more of those clay animals he loves to collect, the hand painted ones. My supplier dropped them by yesterday. I could be charmed out of a few.”

  Luca laughed and pecked her cheeks in return. “You spoil him rotten. Thank you for that.”

  She winked and gave her hair a playful toss before departing.

  “Flirting with my wife again.” Stephano’s voice boomed and teased. “You have no shame at all, DeRosa.”

  “You’re just now picking up on that fact?”

  “I always was a slow learner.” Stephano rose from his desk chair and their ensuing handshake was firm, a solid tug of mutual affection. Stephano was squat, and balding, and quite possibly one of the most energetic men Luca had ever met. “How are you, mio amico?”

  Luca laid the folder atop Stephano’s desk and decided to cut straight to the chase; he couldn’t wait to share his thoughts. “I’m happy to say that I’m more excited about my work than I have been in years.” He went on to tell Stephano about his first encounter with Ashley on the Ponte Vecchio, their subsequent interactions. He didn’t even try to temper his enthusiasm.

  Together they examined Ashley’s work while Luca concluded: “She’s true to life in her work, and her vision, as you can plainly see, but there’s vulnerability, there’s a sense of the ethereal and unblemished in her perceptions as well. The combination struck me as powerful.”

  Stephano studied, and nodded. And studied. At a glance, Luca realized his friend was captured; the reaction, paired with a chasing pulse prompted him to move forward with confidence. “That’s where I think you and I can work together to put her on the map, to exhibit and produce her work.”

  At last his friend looked up, focused. Capture morphed to surprise. “This is sudden.”

  “Your verdict matches Katrina’s, but hear me out. I have a plan.”

  “Hey—hey—I’m not arguing, Luc. Her work shows promise and merit. My point is this isn’t like you.” Stephano settled the sketches, stretched back. “So, tell me. What’s the rest of the story?”

  Luca’s chain of thought diverted from the meeting at hand. He shifted in his chair, crossed then re-crossed his legs. As expected, with Stephano he could confront thornier issues.

  “I’m impressed with her.”

  “With her.”

  “Her. And her talent. It’s an equal mix.”

  “Why do I sense something more is brewing?”

  “Because you know me well. She’s caught my interest as an artist, first and foremost. I want that to be clear, and before you misconstrue anything I might or might not say, she’s attractive, and sweet, but she’s young. All the same, she deserves…her gift warrants…a chance. I want to give her that chance.”

  “Hmm. Hasty disclaimers. That’s interesting. She’s got you tweaked.”

  Luca stopped panicking long enough to realize Stephano was absolutely right—and in his own words Luca had revealed much of what resided at the crux of his growing dilemma.

  He sighed, shoulders sagging in surrender. “And I haven’t even started with the topic of Vince yet.”

  “Keep talking. We’ve got time.”

  Willingly cornered, Luca bristled nonetheless. Launching restlessly to his feet, he stuffed his hands in his pockets, jangled some coins that rested there, and paced. “In many ways I’m ticked-off at myself. When you meet her, you’ll understand. She’s a beautiful, talented young woman on the way to finding her life and her gifts and the means by which to share them; but she’s all wrong for me when it comes to the feelings I have when we’re together, feelings that are decidedly non-business related. I’m older—older in ways that run much deeper than mere age. Additionally, I’m a package deal. There’s nothing wrong with that package deal, mind you. Vince is the greatest blessing I have in my life right now, but when you try to merge the pieces together—”

  “When you try to merge it all together, in spite of everything, you can’t get her out of your mind, can you? You can’t stop thinking about her, and the personal aspects of getting to know her have been the topic of discussion the entire time we’ve met today. I know the business matters we’re going to discuss are important. I know that means a lot to you as well, but what does the fact that she’s dominating your focus tell you?”

  The answer was obvious, of course, and Luca knew it. All the same, Stephano propped his elbows on the arm rests of his chair and steepled his fingertips. After stretching back, he just waited, and lifted a brow. His posture was one of outright challenge, which left Luca wanting to grind his teeth in frustration because his friend was spot on. Curse it all. Where was he supposed to take this attraction?

  “That tells me I need to redefine my perspective.”

  “More specifically you need to find a way to deal with the first strong dose of attraction you’ve experienced since Madelyn’s passing. Talent, charm and beauty. Pretty irresistible combination, yes?” With an encompassing gesture, Stephano indicated the sketches now spread across his desk.

  “It might be. For now, that’s the best, and the most honest, answer I have to give.”

  Stephano ceded the point with an accepting nod. “Fair enough, but my friend, you’re almost at the forty-year mark. Add to that the length of time that’s passed since Madelyn’s death and it makes perfect sense that a young, vibrant woman would win your attention. Maybe you’re moving close to establishing a relationship once again, but…Luc…you’ve said yourself, she’s just past her mid-twenties. She might be beguiling and sweet, but she’s young in both outlook and experience. That’s not a criticism, because you describe her as a wonderful girl, but is she truly what you need in your life? Is she what’s best? When it comes to a woman who might capture your attention, I wonder why that isn’t Katrina.”

  “Katrina?” Layers of surprise covered Luca’s response. Never had he considered the idea of Katrina being anything more than a dear and trusted friend, a business ally.

  Stephano nodded in emphasis. “Yes. What about Katrina? She’s like a perfect reflection of who and what you are and what your future can be. She shares your history, she’s polished and sophisticated. She cares for you, and always has. Surely you realize that.”

  “No, not really…not in the way you mean.”

  Until he considered. Through the train wreck that had been his life during the past three years, Katrina had been a stronghold. Yes, she had kept a faultless and careful eye on the gallery while a mourning period not only distracted him, but ripped holes in
his ability to be happy, to find hope, to relate to God the way he used to. Yes, Katrina had stepped in as someone to rely on when it came to Vince. Yes, Katrina was someone he could pair with easily and comfortably as a stabilizing influence both personal and professional.

  But romance? That joy? That eager pound of expectation that vibrated through his chest? That warm rush of excitement? No. Not Katrina. Not even close. Not when he juxtaposed his long-time friend against the image of Ashley Coratini.

  Stephano made valid arguments, but that didn’t mean Luca liked them, or could bring himself into alignment with his friend’s point of view. Ashley sang through his bloodstream like a beautiful piece of music. She called to him in ways that awaked him and drove him toward living again. Only Madelyn had ever achieved this level of captivation.

  Luca was so lost in thought that he fought back a jump of surprise when the office door opened and Jianna announced Ashley’s arrival. The pre-meeting had sped by. Luca stood automatically, on courtly impulse. Flashing a knowing grin, Stephano followed suit then turned toward Ashley and extended his hand.

  “Ashley, welcome to S&J Rocca. I’m glad to meet you.”

  “Thank you very much.” She nodded formally at Stephano but delivered a more comfortable smile toward Luca. “Luca tells me your shop is one of the finest stationers in the city. I took my time walking through when I arrived, and I have to say, I don’t think he overstated his case.”

  “What a beautiful compliment. I appreciate that, and I must say, you’re even lovelier than Luca described.”

  Certain he was unseen by Ashley, Luca looked heavenward, which only made Stephano grin all the more. In spite of Stephano’s hijinks, satisfaction rode through Luca’s turbulent psyche and he picked up the ball, moving to the point of his requested meeting. “And, Ashley, I’m glad you could make the time to do some brainstorming with us about a couple ideas I have for displaying your work.”

  “Displaying my work?”

  “Yes, I’m considering an exhibit at my gallery, but I’m also thinking of ways we could produce your images for greater production and sale. That’s where I believe S&J Rocca can help.”

  Stephano indicated the spread of artwork on his desk. “As you can see, I’ve been admiring your work. I’m eager to hear what Luca has in mind.”

  “To a degree, Stephano, you’ve already created it which should make matters a bit easier.”

  While Ashley and Stephano looked on, Luca opened and displayed the folio he had borrowed from the shop display rack. “These are lovely—the leather wrapping, the way it expands into an accordion of images is clever and very Italian in tone—but I think we can take it a step further. This is photography. These are high-end, but standard photographs of all the popular views and sights one associates with Florence, and all of it is wrapped in the elegance of S&J Rocca’s trademark leather and stamped by the company’s butterfly wings and fountain pen logo. Stephano chose that logo very deliberately.”

  “Art transforms, and gives wings.” Stephano’s pride was unmistakable.

  “Very true. My thinking is, in your case, Ashley, we’ll replace the photographs with your sketches. Let’s package your art, your fresh and unique views of Florence, in an accordion folio just like this. The offering would become a unique and treasured keepsake of Florence. It’s the city of art, and I believe natives and visitors alike will carry something like this with them and enjoy it for years to come.”

  Ashley reviewed the folio, photo by photo, brows furrowed. “And…you’re saying…you’re talking about…you’d do this? With me? With my sketches?”

  “In addition to an exhibit, if you think you might be able to provide a few more in the weeks to come. Meanwhile, we can begin the process of production and promoting your work. I’d be delighted to take you on, even if you return to the States.”

  If. That was a key word, but he glossed past the idea—for now. If Ashley’s work caught on the way he hoped it would, the way he felt to his bones it would, then, yes, she could continue to work in America, but living and working in Italy would only enhance her credibility and impact, and living in Florence would definitely fine-tune her perspective.

  But he was reacting on a personal level, too—which wasn’t what was needed right now.

  That’s when Luca noticed Stephano’s eager reaction, and rather than focusing on Ashley, Stephano took in the sketches and shuffled carefully through each one. “Yes—yes—we take the original, produce it on heavy stock vellum, do a six or eight fold offering of your sketches. We’d produce both small and large sizes. After we start that process, Luca can frame and position your works in his gallery, and we could shoot for an exhibit toward mid-December—when pocketbooks are a bit freer and people’s thoughts turn to the giving of gifts.”

  “Exactly. That’s why I’m jumping on the opportunity to fast-track production and showcase your work, Ashley.”

  “Thanks for that, because all of a sudden I feel like I’ve stepped into some weird form of hyper-drive.”

  “No worries on that count.” Stephano’s tone and attitude was assuring. “Luca’s right, and he knows what he’s doing. He conducts exhibits all the time, and I’ve already created the type of folio he’s after. We’re not reinventing anything here, only enhancing it. They’d be a sellout. Especially if you mix some of the traditional charcoals with images that feature splashes of color.” Stephano lifted Ashley’s sketch of the Duomo, her gift to Luca from yesterday. “This is a perfect example of what I mean.”

  “I can do that.”

  Ashley sounded equal parts exhilarated and terrified. Luca wished he could offer her some form of reassurance; he wished he could take hold of her hand, or give her arm a tender squeeze, because she was right, her world was about to turn on its axis.

  Stephano continued. “There are contracts to be drawn, legalese to put in place, but I think this could be an extraordinary launch.”

  “I’ll get in touch with people I know at the University of Collaborative Art Studies—that’s the school here in Florence that sponsored my study abroad session. I’m sure they can offer me guidance and insight toward securing representation.”

  Stephano answered that with an approving hum; Luca detected his friend’s appreciation of Ashley’s business aptitude. “Good. I think that’s a very smart idea. And, don’t be overwhelmed. This wouldn’t be happening if you didn’t possess the ability. Seriously, do you recognize the talent you possess?”

  “You’re very kind, Stephano, but I find it easier to believe the harsh critics rather than the nice ones.”

  “Every artist’s foible seems to be an inability to feed off opportunity and affirmation.”

  Ashley brushed her fingertips across the surface of her sketches. “True. I suppose that’s because we’re too used to enduring, and protecting ourselves from the other side of the coin.”

  “All things considered, I believe you should get used to being on the winning end of your dreams.”

  Instead of inspiring a smile, Stephano’s encouraging comment elicited Ashley’s lengthy silence, and a sad glance. “Like I said, the other side of the coin is easier to believe.”

  “Then allow us the pleasure of breaking that cycle.” Luca’s bold declaration earned her undivided focus, and wide-eyed surprise.

  6

  Ashley knew without question Luca was being as supportive, and genuinely encouraging as possible. That was the problem. Luca couldn’t help it that his presence, his support, somehow filled her. Without effort he inspired her—so she didn’t want to tangle personal gratitude and deepening affection with a much-sought-after quest for vindication. She didn’t want an emotional whirlwind to trick her into believing she might fall in love.

  With a man who lived in Italy.

  With a man a dozen years her senior.

  With a man living a life so far out of sync with her own she should never hope for a shared future.

  Her groan cut the midnight silence of her bedroom; she tos
sed beneath a body-warmed stack of blankets, burying her head in the depths of a downy pillow while she struggled to find peace.

  Ashley gave up on sleep—again—she’d been doing that a lot over the past few days, too bombarded by excitement and hopeful exhilaration to perform a proper inner shut-down.

  She flipped from her stomach to her back and stared at her cell phone, presently charging while resting on the night stand next to her bed.

  It was only seven o’clock in New Jersey…

  She hadn’t talked to her parents since meeting Luca; now guilt overrode the stirrings of reluctance she felt about reaching out. She grabbed her phone and punched autodial, waiting, wondering why she was doing this to herself when what she really needed most was mental rest.

  “Ash!”

  “Dad!”

  “Buongiorno, or whatever it is the Italians say when it’s…holy cow…Ash, it’s got to be the middle of the night for you right now. You OK?”

  “Close enough since it’s just past one in the morning here, and I’m fine, just fine. No worries. I couldn’t sleep, especially when I realized I hadn’t talked to you and mom in a while. How’s everything going?”

  “Well, it’s going a lot better now that I’m hearing your voice. Pretty much status quo around here, so tell me about Italy! How’s Florence?”

  “Dad, it’s magic.”

  That led to the update she longed to share, the joy of creating, the thrill of Luca’s affirmation and guidance…and the world of opportunities he presented.

  That’s when dad cut in. “Hang on. Let me get your mom. She’s got to hear this.”

  “Ah…yeah…”

  Dad’s sigh covered a sudden and painful silence.

  “Some days I hate having to play the diplomatist.”

  “I’m sorry—that’s ungrateful of me, and I can’t wait to tell her all about it, but she doesn’t understand. She never has.”

  “Maybe this will help. Sounds tremendous. Hold on, she’s right here.”

  Ashley held her breath.