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Bella Natale

Page 7

by Marianne Evans


  Ashley could relate. Her nude colored strappy heels were wonderful at adding a few inches of height, but the sensation of squished toes was wearing thin…

  “I feel the same way.”

  Katrina gave a start and quickly stuffed her foot back into her shoe. “Fashion can be fatal, I suppose.”

  She looked trendy and sleek in an asymmetrical gown of plumb silk. Long, dark hair had been swept to one side and trailed down her shoulder in a perfect wave.

  “True enough, plus, that sounds like a great crime novel.”

  Katrina smiled and resumed filling her plate. Ashley followed suit. Since a rare even keel seemed to be established with Katrina, Ashley decided to try to take things a step further.

  “I want to thank you for all you’ve done to make this event so beautiful and so elegant. I’m very grateful.”

  “You're welcome, of course, but I did this for Luca. For the gallery.”

  As usual when it came to Katrina, Ashley wasn't sure how to interpret the comments, so she moved on despite the slight chill that danced across her skin, the inner sigh that built and begged for release. At least she had tried. Rather than dwell on negatives, Ashley paused to look around the room, to take in the view of her sketches framed and spotlighted on the walls. She allowed the truth to wash through her that this gallery was full of people, people who responded to what they were seeing.

  And what they saw was her art. A piece of her soul. A piece of the gift God had given her through nothing but the goodness of His grace.

  When nerves struck up all over again, when she sought the assurance of Luca’s presence, she found him standing within a clique just across the room. He seemed to conclude an intent conversation with a middle-aged couple just as he met her gaze and nodded toward the entryway. He arched a brow in an unspoken invitation to take a pause outside. The notion of snowflakes and chilled air didn’t bother Ashley in the least; she nodded and followed his lead.

  Though revitalized by a respite in the cold, Ashley trembled as Luca removed his tux jacket and draped it over her shoulders. Captured body heat surrounded her at once. Ashley took in the subtle aroma of spice and wood scent that wrapped her in curls of warmth. From inside the gallery, “Variations on the Kanon” filled the air with a quiet undercurrent of piano music.

  “I don't think I've ever felt so exposed.” Her fingertips drifted against the silk lapels near her throat. “This is nerve-racking.”

  “Opening night, taking the stage always is. That doesn't mean you should avoid it. After all, look at the results.”

  “I’m humbled. And amazed. I wish I could…I wish the words would somehow come to me—”

  He interrupted her with a soft touch of his fingertips against her lips. “You don’t have to, Ashley. Your eyes say it for you.”

  Tingles hit, then a deep, hot blush. Cold? What cold? “I can’t begin to explain the euphoria I feel right now. This opportunity, the gallery, the support, it’s everything I ever dreamed. I can’t quite believe it’s real.”

  “I’m sure my accountant will offer an alternative perspective in the morning. This is quite real, and the results of tonight’s showing are going to be fantastic. I saw Katrina was kept very busy by our guests. This is beyond even my high expectations.”

  She shivered, not at all from the cold. “Tonight has been better than I ever imagined, and I realized during the course of the reception that it isn’t often I have a chance to explain my work, and what inspires it. In general, I’m an introvert to begin with—”

  “All evidence to the contrary.” Luca snickered.

  Ashley laughed and then turned her face to the sky, closed her eyes, and breathed in the refreshing chill of this magical December night. “It can’t be this easy.”

  “What’s that?” Luca caressed her arms.

  Her focus returned to the moment they shared. “It isn’t possible that I’d vacate my life in the States, voyage to Florence, and stumble straight into everything I ever hoped for.”

  “What you’ve stumbled upon is God’s plan. Your work offers a fresh perspective, new angles on the iconic, time-honored places people are so familiar with. I said from the start you have a gift. Tonight just proves it.”

  “I’ve never given permanence here much thought.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because the idea never struck me as being realistic.”

  “Look around you, Ashley. I think you’re being sent a different message.”

  She did, for the briefest of instants, but then, she heard her mother’s voice, decrying such a dangerous move. “Luca, things like this just don’t happen to me—you know, that ready and easy flash of good fortune, that pot of gold at the end of the proverbial rainbow. I fully intended to expand and explore while I was in Florence, and grow myself as an artist. From there, I’d go back home and deal with real life. The idea of sudden, life-altering changes? No. Not so much.”

  She laughed it off, lightening the tone of her response, but a weight settled in, pressing against her spirit, because oh, how she wished…

  Ashley had no time to prepare for the sudden way he bent and claimed her lips with a hunger, a surrender she understood without explanation. Luca’s kiss overtook her—explosive and undeniable and thoroughly welcome. He wasn’t greedy—he didn’t press or devour—rather, he took her in slowly but thoroughly, and without reservation. His flavor slid through her soul, melting resistance, melting doubts, melting fears.

  As though sensing a point of no return, Luca backed slowly away while he combed his fingers through the curling tumble of her hair. He kissed her cheeks, the tip of her nose.

  “As we stand here now, what I most wonder is this: What if your career, your dream of being an artist that is, develops in such a way that you need to stay in Florence? Permanently? Would you be willing, or able to make that change?”

  Quietly spoken, the questions hit her like a thunder clap. He didn’t look at her. He kept his focus trained on the sidewalk instead. But once his attention shifted, once their eyes connected, Ashley’s rational thought processes stalled. A revelation of the heart caused her world to teeter and spin, for she realized at once she had not only tumbled into some form of alternate universe where every wish of her professional heart was coming to life, she was also close to the fulfillment of a blooming, yearning heart that stretched toward a man who answered her every dream.

  Yet confusion built. Not just in age but in outlook and experience, Luca was worlds wrong for her. Right?

  Sensing her disquiet, Luca stroked her cheek. “I just want you to consider what might happen when the sun rises tomorrow. I want you to think about the future.”

  Was it just her imagination, or did that statement ring with double meaning?

  “We should get back inside.” Luca turned to open the door on Ashley’s behalf. The Kanon was replaced by the Ode to Joy, its lilting harmonies and swirls adding texture to an already overwhelming backdrop. Luca’s kiss, his words, his unquestioned belief, sang through her veins like the melody of that classic song, evoking a rise of goose bumps.

  The world around her seemed to sparkle and shimmer as if sprinkled by God’s own glitter-dust.

  10

  When she returned to the hotel and checked e-mail for the first time all day, Ashley discovered she didn’t need to go hunting for the future—instead the future had come charging after her. Keying into her iPad, she discovered a note, dated yesterday afternoon and marked urgent from the principal of Windermere High School along with an attachment labeled: Ashley Coratini_Revised Contract.

  Revised contract? She expelled a troubled sigh, stomach starting to roil and dance as she prepared to settle in for the night. Once she changed for bed and tucked beneath the blankets, she clicked on the message and began to read.

  Ashley ~

  We’re delighted to extend to you the attached revised terms of agreement between you and the Sandringham, New Jersey school district. We understand from our previous interview t
hat you are presently in Italy, concluding an artistic sabbatical. We hope you are enjoying this period of professional and personal enrichment and will respond at your soonest opportunity to the increased salary and benefits package.

  I cannot stress enough how impressed we are by your passion for art and your eye for the daily details that will be necessary for teaching our senior level Art Appreciation course. We’re eager for you to join our staff and as you will see upon review, in addition to an enhanced salary, we’ve included a school-sponsored opportunity for you to teach a summer art camp to students of middle school to high school age which you mentioned during the interview process you would enjoy implementing.

  These added incentives are presented in an effort to solidify our position in the hopes that we can secure your answer and services as soon as possible. Kindly return a call to my office as soon as possible to discuss further.

  With thanks and best regards ~

  Kenneth Wozniack, Principal

  Ashley clicked open the accompanying file. She read, and gaped. Officials at Windermere had increased her salary offer by an additional ten percent. She’d be able to develop and execute an art camp. Mentally and physical exhausted, she extinguished the table lamp and tossed from her side to her back, groaning. The offer was flattering, but left her in conflict about the beauty and joy of the night she had just celebrated.

  She closed her eyes.

  “Lord, I’ve said all along that if this entire experience is from you, then bless it with your hand. If it isn’t—if Luca isn’t—then please take away this burning, this ache and yearning I feel to take on everything he offers, both for my work and for my heart. Be with me, Lord, and most of all, help me to recognize and follow Your will.”

  Following a whispered “Amen,” she attempted to sleep, but the moment she drifted off, the sensation of Luca’s lips gliding against hers came alive. All over again she relived the memory of pleasured sighs, of dewy softness, of giving and receiving in such a beautiful way. His smile, his touch, played against the backdrop of her mind and kept her far from the land of slumber.

  Ashley’s mind continued to spin; deliberately she distanced her thoughts from Luca. Instead, she focused on the offer from the Sandringham school district. She loved the idea of touching young lives. She loved the idea of reaching souls through teaching art and art appreciation. It was part of her gift and calling. But true as that might be, all Ashley wanted to do was jump at the opportunity to be part of the art world in Florence, to provide joy through her sketches, and she wanted the chance to build a life with Luca. In her deepest reaches, she wanted to follow Nonna Rosa’s advice and not think, not second-guess, not over-analyze or plan. Rather, she wanted to say yes. Yes to Florence…and yes to Luca DeRosa.

  But could she allow that to be her final answer? Would staying be the wisest course when a secure and potentially fulfilling opportunity awaited her back home? To stay would be reckless and unrealistic, right? Did she possess a level of self-confidence, belief and strength that would allow her to risk stability and safety in favor of a life spent in the art world of Italy? With Luca?

  Right now, especially in light of the new offer to teach, an easy “yes” had morphed into something much more complicated, and scary.

  ~*~

  Luca entered L’arte Della Vita and came upon Katrina, fresh and perfectly coiffed behind the reception desk, as always. She shot him a concerned look. “You look haggard”

  That was the last thing he needed to hear—though he supposed the verdict was based on solid truth. He offered her a wan smile. “Thanks ever so much.”

  “No insult intended, just care, and concern. Are you OK?”

  “Restless night. I didn’t sleep well. Has Stephano arrived?”

  “No, not yet. Is he expected?”

  “He texted me early this morning saying he needed to stop by. Said it wouldn’t take long.”

  That meant Luca might have just enough time to pour a cup of coffee, disappear into his office, and try to figure out where in the world his life was headed.

  “Can you please show him to my office when he gets here?”

  She studied him, and frowned. “Of course.”

  Luca sighed. His relationship with Katrina was disintegrating into uncomfortable lines of tension, and that fact needed to be dealt with soon. Her shoulders were taut, her warmth nowhere to be found, but his present tiredness and businesslike attitude didn’t help matters either, and he knew it.

  Dreams had haunted him. He kept seeing his name, in strong black lines, right next to Ashley’s on a sketch of the Duomo. Then, in time to the quickening of his heart, the sketch of the Duomo transformed from drawing to reality. Summer was in full bloom. Blue sky stretched high above; the perfume of flowers and food spice filled the people-jammed square. He strolled, hand-in-hand with Madelyn, but her features were hazy, faded. He enjoyed this perfect time and place with his wife, but…

  “Luca, I made this for you…” Ashley’s voice flowed through the dreamscape and Madelyn stood beside him no longer. Instead, he peered into the pure, sweet eyes of the woman who had captivated him from the moment of her gift, of a piece of art, a seemingly simple sketch that stemmed from the soul.

  Ashley’s presence had curved around him, delicious, enticing, drawing him from summer to winter in the piazza, to Christmas lights and a towering pine that dominated a church square filled with choir music and life. The promise of new life in spite of winter’s grip.

  Then, he saw the sketch once more, as it was when she presented it to him, enhanced by colors and vitality. He saw his hand, fingers trembling, charcoal pencil not at all steady as he looked at the sketch he had enhanced with splashes of color and contrasting brightness to a gray-hued vision so indicative of his life, its outlook until now. Until Ashley. And he scripted his name next to hers, the gesture permanent. Committed.

  The ultimate form of betrayal.

  His office door burst open and Stephano strolled to the chair across from Luca’s desk and dropped comfortably into place. His smile stretched ear-to-ear, and he extended a paper sack emblazoned with the logo of S&J Rocca.

  “I hope you enjoy what’s inside,” he began without preamble. “Let’s just say my vendors and I work fast, and so do you. My friend, last night’s reception was incredible! How were sales? Does she have commissions? Is she staying? Leaving? Working from the states? Do we have a strategy in place for future showings?”

  My word, Luca thought, reaching into the slim bag, Stephano reacted like a man on fire. Not that Luca could blame him much. His fingers closed around supple leather bound by string; its aroma drifted to him sweet as a promise and his heart stuttered. He knew. He knew at once.

  He lifted his head sharply and met his friend’s knowing gaze. “This is the folio.”

  “Indeed. It lives and breathes. Let me know your thoughts, and feel free to share it with Ashley.”

  A guilty quiver started in his gut, flowed outward with building momentum as he freed the object and unwound its bindings. “I haven’t discussed the numbers in detail with Katrina yet, and it’s early to talk strategy, but I’ll try to see Ashley later today after I know more. I’ll bring you up to speed afterward.”

  Stephano leaned back, studied Luca through narrowed eyes. “Um-hum. All business. Brava.” He waited…and waited.

  Stubborn, Luca held to his silence and studied the renderings instead. The execution of this gift piece was absolutely perfect.

  Stephano stood, his good nature in place despite the abruptness of their meeting. “For what it’s worth, when I wasn’t busy basking in the glow of our mutual success, and savoring the launch of a skilled artist, I watched the two of you together last night. I hope you realize God is giving you a second chance. I hope you take him up on the offer. Like you said, let’s talk more once you solidify details and she meets with her agent.”

  Stephano’s parting words struck against a solid chord of fear that ran right down the center of Luca’
s back. The observations encapsulated all he had hoped for—and everything he feared the most about moving forward with Ashley.

  11

  Katrina stood behind Luca’s desk chair. He listened as she detailed the final report she had prepared on Ashley’s reception and exhibit.

  “We received offers for five of the eight sketches, and serious interest on the others. I believe we’ll receive calls on those over the next few days. Also, Giselle Mansuto went crazy for Ashley’s work and is offering a commission. Evidently she wants Ashley to create a charcoal sketch, gray-hue, of her villa in Umbria. That would require Ashley to travel to the locale; do you think she’d be willing?”

  Good question, Luca thought, wondering the same thing himself. Given last night’s results, would she be motivated to consider staying? Rather than hazard a guess, he continued to absorb facts. “She’s earned a commission? Already? That’s amazing. Not surprising, but…” Pride washed through him. “I held out the hope someone might invest in her work. Giselle would be a perfect entrée for Ashley. They loved meeting each other and seemed to connect immediately.”

  Katrina didn’t respond. No matter what became of his feelings for Ashley, Luca didn’t want Katrina to be hurt, so he used the opening as a segue. It was time to talk, and reestablish the parameters of their relationship.

  “I want to tell you how much I appreciate your efforts on the event last night, and on the tracking of sales. You’re the best ambassador for this gallery I could imagine.”

  “L’arte Della Vita is part of my heart, Luca. You know that.”

  “I do. I recognize that fact and appreciate it. I rely on you heavily when it comes to the daily operations of the gallery, but beyond that, you’re a friend I treasure.”

  “That goes both ways, of course, but where are you headed with this?”

  He could see her straighten her spine, as though bracing.

  “I don’t want to lose the affection and respect of a friend I value as much as you, and it seems the lines between us aren’t as clear or easy as they used to be.”

 

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