Bella Natale

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Bella Natale Page 8

by Marianne Evans


  At once those tight shoulders sagged; sadness touched the depths of her eyes. “No worries there. I’m fine. We’re fine.”

  “Are we?” Luca looked at her in doubt, and waited. When a stilted silence fell into place, he took her hand and stood, leading the way to the chairs opposite his desk. After they sat, he kept his hold in place. “I want you in my corner, Katrina. I trust you, and I care for you very much. I want…and hope…you can support me as I move forward in my personal life as well.”

  “Meaning Ashley Coratini.”

  “Yes. Meaning Ashley. She’s a remarkable woman who’s won my interest both as an artist and as a person with whom I can explore a future. Knowing me as well as you do, I’m sure you’ve picked up on my attraction to her. I guess I’m surprising myself by realizing I’m ready to look ahead again, and find a level of happiness in my life that extends beyond the gallery.”

  “I have no problem with your decisions about the gallery when it comes to Ashley’s work. The exhibit, the opportunities for her to show her work in varying venues and aspects, is a tribute to her talent, but…”

  It was Luca’s turn to brace himself. “But what?”

  She delivered a sharp look. “Are you sure you want to hear this?”

  “Yes, I am. Friends are honest, and open.”

  It wasn’t often he saw Katrina venture into a place of uncertainty, but she released his hand, fidgeting nervously for a moment. “I apologize if what I’m about to say seems reactionary. I don't mean to behave like a jealous shrew, but you mean a great deal to me.”

  “And I say the same to you.”

  “Understood. That's why I want to ask you to think. You need to consider all the aspects of what she can and can’t bring to your life before you dive into a relationship that might not be for the best.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning”—her voice wavered—“Meaning she’s young. Inexperienced. I wish you could see that, right before you, is a person who provides answers to the life you’ve created. The life you’ve been happy with. I could be much more than a colleague if you’d let me.”

  Perhaps, but the feelings weren’t there. How could he make her understand his perspective without inflicting damage on a person he loved—if not in the way she wished?

  “Katrina, you’re a beautiful, loving woman. I admire you, and always have, but I can’t offer you the kind of life or the kind of emotion that you’re talking about.”

  She looked down, froze stiffly, so he took her hand once more. Thankfully she didn’t resist. “That doesn’t lessen my affection for you, or make you any less important.”

  “I understand, and I’m glad we’ve been open with each other.” She stood gracefully, with typical poise. Her professional persona fell into place, though with traces of pain. “I’ll leave you to sort through the results of last night’s event. I only hope she doesn’t disappoint you.”

  Katrina left swiftly, though she closed the door with a gentle click. Luca sank back against his leather chair and sighed in time to its squeak and give. Katrina’s logic wasn’t lost on him. In fact, it pressed against the strength of his resolution to be bold about his emotions. That didn’t mean the doubts would leave him be, though. Luca could feel the way uncertainty battered against the thick stone walls he’d built around his heart.

  But when he looked into Ashley’s eyes, when he stood at her side, the doubts evaporated, vanishing into a tempting and potent stream of hope, joy and longing. Luca couldn’t—wouldn’t—back away. Madelyn’s death had taught him life was short, and too precious to be denied.

  ~*~

  After a fitful night of tossing, turning, agonizing, and praying, Ashley made her decision. The most difficult decision of her life. She was leaving Florence.

  The time she had spent in the heart of Italy had transformed her, given her opportunities the likes of which she had never dreamed might come true. Now, it was time to descend the mountain. It was time to perform real work in the real world. It was time to secure her position at Windermere High School and bookmark this remarkable episode as an incredible Christmas gift from God.

  Would Luca see it the same way? Would he understand?

  Nervous energy accompanied her across the threshold of the gallery where she was greeted by Katrina.

  “Good afternoon, Ashley. He’s in his office, and he’s expecting you.”

  “Thank you.”

  The closer she came to this moment of truth, the harder it became to put one foot in front of the other. She knocked on his closed door and was asked in at once. Gathering a deep breath, Ashley pushed through.

  As they reviewed results and sales numbers, the fact that she had been offered a straightforward sketch commission from an art patron the likes of Giselle Mansuto nearly sent the walls of Ashley’s resolve toppling—but there were ways to satisfy both aspects of her burgeoning career. She could always return to Italy for visits, and…

  “Ashley…Ashley…are you OK?”

  Tenderness, love, worked its way through Luca’s tone, through his eyes and into the touch of his hand against her arm. Evidently she had drifted.

  “Sorry. I guess I’m a bit tired, and overwhelmed.” The simple words covered a multitude of complication.

  “Don’t be overwhelmed. This is good news, and I think the event exceeded all expectations. Here’s the quote Giselle offered for your services.”

  Ashley nearly swooned. A trip to Umbria. Her artistic spirit melted into ripples of pure bliss.

  “I’ll take this to Geoffrey Pulter when I meet with him tomorrow morning. I know he’s eager to hear how things went.”

  Luca chuckled. “As I said, exceeds expectations.”

  Ashley’s eyes stung. She bit her lips together, dipping her head in the hopes that he wouldn’t detect her heartbreak. This severing was necessary, she told herself. Brutal, but necessary.

  As she’d come to expect in the short time she’d known him, there was no hiding from Luca. He swept around the edge of his desk and knelt next to her chair. “What’s wrong, Ashley? What happened?”

  Oh, Lord, she beseeched through the pain of a ripped spirit, please help me. Please help me do this. Give me the words.

  She tumbled into a halting, tearful explanation of the offer that had come through from New Jersey, from home, and all that she knew, all that she trusted as being stable and safe…realistic.

  “I leave in less than a week. When I meet with Geoffrey, we’ll align my return for Giselle’s commission, probably in the spring when the land is ripe and blooming.” She aimed for a brave smile, but her lips trembled and as close as Luca studied her, she knew he detected her turbulence.

  “I wish I could make you see you don’t need safety nets and a stable routine to be happy. The greatest adventures we embrace involve taking a chance, spiraling off a precipice and into God’s care.”

  When she looked into his eyes, she came upon defeat, and a level of sadness that matched, if not surpassed, her own.

  Luca stood. “It’s not up to me to convince you to stay, and I refuse to encourage you to go because those answers belong solely to you, just like this voyage of discovery has belonged to you.”

  Straightening, smoothing the lines of his suit coat while he cleared his throat and took a deep breath, Luca shook his head as if awakening from a dream. Meanwhile, Ashley fought for control, struggled to keep her eyes dry, her throat clear of a choking lump.

  “Stephano stopped by earlier today.” Luca’s ‘all-business’ tone was so at odds with the moment that she was shocked to attention. “He gave me this, and asked that I share it with you.”

  Across the desk, he handed her a paper bag with S&J Rocca’s insignia across the front. When she extracted the contents, she gave a soft cry and covered trembling lips with the press of her fingers.

  “Oh. Oh, my. Oh, my goodness.”

  Stamped by the logo of S&J Rocca, supple, fragrant leather of dark blue came open in an accordion-style tumble of her s
ketches. She beheld her folio, which would land in the hands of people throughout Florence by nothing but the grace of God. Beads of tears tumbled down the rise of her cheeks.

  Through a visual blur she noticed Luca clenched his hands and remained in place behind his desk, as though purposefully maintaining distance. She didn’t blame him. How could he do otherwise, given her decision?

  “Let this act as a reminder to never think about the negativity and push-back of other people when they try to steal your dreams. You deserve all the best, Ashley, all the success that’s headed your way. So, don’t think about others. Focus on the mission God gives you, the gifts you possess. If they lead you back to America, then so be it. No matter what, though, I pray you hang on to the passion, the joy I’ve been privileged to share with you during the past few weeks. That’s what I want you to take with you when you leave.”

  Leave. He had said the word aloud and she braced against the emptiness that loomed just ahead like an evil specter.

  “I don’t know how to say goodbye.” She looked away from him, focusing instead on the sketches now spread across her lap. She whispered the words in a choked voice as she glossed loving fingertips against this precious offering.

  “It’s not goodbye, Ashley. You’ll be back. We’ll see each other. Our fates are tied together by your future works, and by my hope that you might still contribute sketches for me to display and sell.”

  She sensed Luca imbued his words with as much optimism as the moment would allow. When she met his gaze once more, his eyes glinted with fierce conviction. “This is the beginning for you. This is based on your talents alone. People are drawn by what you create. What’s happened to you during this trip needs to continue. You need to let go and have enough faith to say you’ll give your gift the chance it deserves, whether that happens within the halls of your new school or here in Italy.”

  “I couldn’t have done any of this without you, Luca. You gave me confidence, and opportunity. You helped nurture the gifts you saw. There’s nothing more affirming than that.”

  At the moment, her mind was crowded and spun with such uncertainty; all she could think of was her impending departure and the ramifications of everything that had come to pass since those fateful moments on the Ponte Vecchio.

  Luca’s tortured gaze would haunt her forever. So would his silence as their meeting reached its inevitable conclusion. Ashley lifted on wobbly legs and unearthed just enough strength to conclude. “I want you to know, Luca, no matter what comes next, you’ve helped me become the best version of myself that I can possibly be. You’ve taught me to believe in myself and my gifts as an artist. Thank you for that, and for so much more.”

  They exchanged a hug, a dual kiss of the cheeks. All the while, Ashley felt crushed. The dreams that had followed her to Italy had come true. All, that was, except one—the dream she hadn’t even known she possessed, until Luca.

  That dream was of love.

  12

  Luca’s sorrow transformed to steely determination. The way he saw things, he possessed just one means by which to keep Ashley from leaving, and that was the presentation of a counter offer. If Windermere had the right to enhance its offer, then so did he. He refused to lose her without a mighty and epic fight.

  The time had come to follow his heart.

  The next morning, he sent Ashley a text: I hope you’ll do one thing for me. Visit the Piazzale Michelangelo. Remember my advice? About going there at quarter of twelve? Meet me there today, won’t you?

  He clicked SEND, and waited.

  I’ll be there.

  Only then did Luca allow himself to breathe. Her answer was simple, and direct, but her acceptance was all he wanted, for he firmly believed God hadn’t quite finished with this story. Not yet, anyhow.

  He left the gallery at eleven and arrived at the Piazzale shortly thereafter. The weather was cold, but an ice-blue sky stretched above, uninterrupted by the threat of clouds and snow. Hearty tourists meandered through the wide open expanse, taking in its incomparable view of Florence laid out in a rolling valley of terracotta, gold, and brown. With Christmas on the horizon, stall keepers hawked a variety of goods. One merchant in particular captured Luca’s attention. A woman, protected by the awning of a portable tent, sat beneath its cover, crafting exquisite pieces of jewelry.

  At her display table, he found an item that captured the leap he was about to take. Smiling—praying in earnest—he purchased the piece with a handful of Euros and his heartfelt thanks. As he took custody of his purchase, he saw Ashley walking the incline of a hill that led to the main viewing area. His heart thundered and skipped.

  ~*~

  The instant she saw Luca, Ashley nearly swiped her phone from its resting spot in her purse and cancelled everything—her flight home, the e-mail she had prepared accepting her teaching position. She had promised herself she’d finalize everything once she was off Italian soil and better able to think without her blasted heart getting in the way and mucking up her determination.

  Luca approached then wrapped her in a hug that sent warmth and contentment flowing through troubled joints. Leaving him, Ashley decided, was the very definition of hell, but necessary she reminded herself. Necessary.

  “Thank you for coming.”

  She stilled her quivering nerves and smiled at him. “Like I could refuse your request.”

  He gave her time to settle, which she appreciated. Luca led her past the massive, breathtaking statue of David that held sentinel over the gathering spot. Sunlight burnished the bronze form to brilliance and Ashley experienced a fresh pang at the idea of leaving this historical and art-driven city.

  “Remember when I told you, the night of the exhibit, that you had stumbled onto God’s plan?”

  Drawn from a rush of melancholy, Ashley focused on Luca and nodded, too troubled to speak.

  “What I failed to grasp at that point is fact that I had stumbled onto His plan as well. If we can both find the faith to embrace the reality of His gift, we’ll be OK. We’ll find what we want…and what we need.”

  Tears glittered in her eyes; if only reality were that simple, she thought.

  “Look at your life as though it were the gift of the Magi. Your life is yours, but it belongs to God. Open the treasures that are your gifts. When you did, it led you here. Present them in honor of the One you serve. When you did, it led you here. Give your gifts to God and everything else will fall into place, including your family, and the roadmap of your future, your security—and most importantly the pathway of your heart.”

  “Your advice is wonderful, but would you be willing to do the same? Can you let go of perceptions and fears of loss and realize you and I are a gift meant to be given to one another as well? That we deserve a chance to be together no matter what other people want to say or think? I can’t stay if you aren’t, Luca. Are you ready? I don’t care about age. I don’t care one bit about what you do or don’t do, with regard to my career in art. Furthermore, I adore Vince. And right now, I don’t care about anything but finding a life with you. I can’t do that, though. I can’t take that step without knowing you’d be there with me. If our future was in the States, would you be willing to give up everything you’ve worked for here? Just to be with me? Because that’s what you’re asking me to do. I need to know that you’d be willing to embrace the future and the life God gives you as well, no matter where that leads.”

  “You’re afraid I wouldn’t move forward with you at my side?”

  “That’s the main reason I’ve considered the renewed offer. It’s flattering; it gives me a great chance from a professional prospective. Personally, it would leave me empty. But you and me? We’re so new we can hardly be called ‘we’. To stay would mean me giving up everything I’ve known as well as a concrete future. And for what? A maybe future.”

  “Then consider this my vow.” He took hold of her hands, squeezed them tight. “You represent everything I long to recapture. Joy. Love. Connection. That's why I couldn
’t keep my distance or remain strictly professional when it came to my relationship with you. That’s why I can’t tolerate the idea of you leaving. We can be happy here, Ashley. Give me—give us—the chance. We can build a beautiful life together.”

  “I’ve never wanted anything more, Luca, but I’m scared. I admit it, I’m afraid, and I know that might demonstrate a lack of trust and faith, but I also know God understands that uncertainty and fear. I know He’ll help me work through it, and—”

  “Then let that process begin here, and now.” Luca drew her in tight, held her steady. “I’m grateful for the time I took away from the gallery and everything else in my life that day I walked through town, across the Arno, straight to where I found you sketching on a ledge of the Ponte Vecchio. I’m grateful I paused long enough to breathe, to watch you, and admire your work. Since then, you’ve come alive as eloquently as one of your sketches—you’re a woman of pure passion. You’re as gifted and sweet as you are beautiful. How could I doubt God’s provision when He led me to that moment?”

  He shifted his feet, struggling, she realized.

  “Ashley, I’ve loved two women in my life. Madelyn was taken from me at the height of everything I hoped for. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to express how that wrecked me. Pain like that isn’t something you can move away from very easily. Loss like that makes it so hard to believe that it can’t, or won’t happen again, because life offers no guarantees. I’m starting to realize now that the pain and loss doesn’t matter as much as the chance God is giving me to discover love again. With you.”

  Luca set a guiding hand against her back and led the way to a railing that overlooked the rooftops, bell towers and church steeples of Florence. The hour of noon neared as he removed his leather gloves, stuffed them into one of his coat pockets. From the other, he extracted an item he dangled from his fingertips in presentation and offering.

  Tiny beads of glass formed a glittery, multi-colored mosaic in the shape of a heart. The piece was based in silver and strung on a black leather chord Luca secured around her neck.

 

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