Tuscan Heat

by Deborah Fletcher Mello

  Carina blew out a soft sigh. She locked gazes with her husband, noting the disappointment and confusion that gleamed from his eyes. She didn’t have the words to explain how she’d rationalized what she’d done. All she knew was that in the beginning, it had made all the sense in the world to her. And that even in that moment she knew beyond any doubt that she’d done the right thing.

  Since the publication of Gianna’s first book, Carina had stepped in to do those things Gianna neglected to do for herself. From managing her fan page to answering reader questions, Carina had been her sister’s personal assistant and marketing guru, maintaining her Twitter, Facebook and Instagram accounts. When Donovan’s first email message had come, there had been something in the tone of his words that had caught her attention. His comments had been thoughtful and provoking, his words laden with emotion. She instinctively knew he was exactly what her best friend in the whole wide world needed.

  Her response had been all Gianna, the wisecracking, tongue-in-cheek retorts her sister was known for. As their emails had gotten lengthier, she’d pulled lines and paragraphs from Gianna’s personal writings to respond, wanting him to know her twin the way she knew her, in her sister’s own words. And it had worked because now he wanted to meet the woman he’d befriended. Admittedly, Carina hadn’t thought her plan through to the end. She’d imagined that once she’d vetted the man, she could have told Gianna and passed on the reins. Despite hoping that her twin would be happy to step in and take over, Carina knew that happy was probably going to be the last thing Gianna would feel about the situation.

  She felt her husband still staring at her, and she lifted her eyes back to his. “Donovan likes Gianna. Everything he knows, he knows about Gianna. He doesn’t know me or anything about me! And when she finds out and gets to know him, she’s going to like him, too. I’d bet my last dollar on it. I just wanted her to be as happy as you and I are, and you know she wouldn’t have done anything like this on her own.”

  Graham shook his head from side to side. “So when do you plan to tell Gianna?”

  “Tell Gianna what?” Gianna asked as she moved into the room. She looked from one to the other. “What’s going on?”

  Carina moved too quickly to her husband’s side, leaning against him for support. The two exchanged a quick look, a wave of nervous energy palpable around them.

  Moving to the counter, Gianna dropped her bags against the wooden top. Her eyes were still locked on her sister and brother-in-law. The bubbling pot on the stove interrupted the moment as tomato sauce suddenly spewed over the sides and down to the stove top.

  “Oh, hell!” Carina exclaimed, moving to lower the heat on their father’s meal.

  Gianna watched with one hand on her hip as she waited for the duo to clean the mess. When the last dishrag had been rinsed, the pot back on simmer, she asked a second time, “So what is it that you have to tell me?”

  Mumbling, Graham leaned over to kiss his wife’s cheek, then moved toward the door. Without another word, he disappeared through the entrance, leaving the two women alone. Gianna moved to stand in front of her sister, her arms crossed over her chest.

  “What’s going on, Sissy?”

  “Why don’t we sit down? Did you find everything you needed at the market?”

  Gianna shook her head, her index finger waving in front of her sister’s face. “Oh, no, you don’t! You are not changing the subject, and don’t you move until you answer my question!”

  Carina took a deep breath and then another. “I found you a boyfriend,” she said, and then she spewed out the story, not bothering to take another inhale of air until the last word had spilled past her lips.

  * * *

  “Open the door, Gianna,” Franco commanded. “You can’t hide in there forever.”

  “I’m not hiding!” Gianna yelled back. “I just don’t want to talk to anyone.”

  “Now, daughter! And don’t make me say it again.”

  Gianna sighed deeply as she moved onto her feet toward her office door. She undid the lock and pulled it open just enough to peer out into the hallway. Standing on the other side, her father gave her that look, his mouth pursed tightly, his eyes narrowed. Sighing again, she stepped aside to let the man enter.

  Franco moved to the upholstered sofa and sat down, turning his gaze to stare at his daughter. Neither spoke, Gianna still pouting in anger. As she sat down beside him, she couldn’t help but marvel at her father. His calm demeanor was soothing, and his dashing good looks made her smile.

  The older she and her sister got, the more Gianna thought they were starting to look like their beloved father. His complexion was warm, his loose curls more silver than black. They had his nose and jawline, but neither had inherited his chilling blue eyes. He swore that both his girls resembled their mother, but Gianna didn’t necessarily agree, thinking they were a nice mesh of the two. She suddenly thought about her mother.

  The beautiful black woman from New York City had been the love of her father’s life. A chance meeting while Angela Wilson had been an exchange student in Tuscany had solidified their future. Franco had always believed that they would have grown old together, but his beloved Angela had suffered a brain aneurysm when the twins were twelve years old. The loss had been devastating. Franco had thrown himself into running his family winery and loving his children. He still mourned the loss.

  As long as Gianna could remember, she and her sister’s antics had been enough to keep him on his toes, and keep his head gray. And despite their love for one another, they spent more time angry with each other than not angry, with Gianna, the elder by ten minutes, always pouting because of something Carina had done.

  “So when do you plan to speak to your sister?” her father asked.

  Gianna rolled her eyes skyward. “Never! I cannot believe she would do this to me.”

  “It was a little extreme, but her heart was in the right place.”

  “This man is coming to visit, and he thinks there’s something between us and there isn’t. I don’t know anything about him.”

  Her father nodded. “I imagine he’s going to be disappointed.”

  “And his disappointment falls on me. She used my name. That’s unforgiveable.”

  “Everything is forgivable.”

  “Not this.”

  Franco chuckled softly. “Even this. You just need to figure out how to make it right.”

  “Why do I need to make it right? I didn’t do anything!”

  “That may be true, but just like you pointed out, your sister used your name and now a man who doesn’t deserve it is going to be disappointed.”

  Gianna screamed as she shook two fists in the air. “Aargh! I swear I could kill her!” She began to rant in her native Italian.

  Franco chuckled softly. “That’s an option,” he said with a nod, “but I’m sure you can come up with something more creative. Something that will make everybody happy.” He tapped a warm palm against her knee.

  Gianna shook her head as her father stood back on his feet.

  “Carina loves you, Gianna. And you love her. What she did, she did out of love. Don’t you forget that, mia cara.” He leaned down to kiss her cheek.

  She nodded slowly, meeting his gaze. “Va bene, papà,” she said, her expression unmoved.

  As the patriarch made his way out of the room, Gianna rose to lock the door behind him. She wasn’t yet ready to face her twin, and she knew it would only take a quick minute for Carina to come busting her way inside if she found an opportunity.

  She moved back to her desk and the oversize manila folder that rested on its surface. After her admission Carina had given it to Gianna, insisting she read the contents. Gianna still hadn’t bothered to break the cover to see just how deep Carina’s deception ran.

  There was a soft knock at the office door. Carina ca
lled her name but Gianna ignored her sister, still staring at the stack of documents. Despite her anger she was intrigued, the curiosity pulling at her. Of all the stunts her sister had pulled over the years, this one had to be her most devious by far. And she was scared to death, fearful that there might be something she liked hidden in those pages that would draw her into her twin sister’s madness.

  * * *

  Outside Gianna’s window, a plethora of bright stars and a full moon illuminated the dark sky. She’d been reading for hours, the home on the other side of the office door having gone quiet for the night. Carina had tried more than once to get her attention until she’d finally given up, her tear-filled tone apologizing again and again for what she’d done.

  Gianna picked up the very first message from the man named Donovan, rereading the words she’d already read a few dozen times.

  Dear Ms. Martelli,

  My name is Donovan Boudreaux. I’m a math professor at Tulane University in New Orleans, Louisiana. I have been a fan of yours since your first book, Bruised and Battered. Despite my previous intentions to write and tell you how much I’ve enjoyed your writing, I’ve always stopped myself, feeling that you probably would not want to be inundated with more fan mail. But I was so enthralled with your last story, and the character Dr. Hanover, that I could not let the opportunity to tell you what I think pass by. Your artistry is rare and your words are epic. I was captivated from the first sentence to the last. However, I’m curious to know if you intentionally wanted your readers to empathize with the protagonist despite his being so unlikable. Your disdain for this man was obvious, but as I found myself rooting for him I had to question your intent and wondered if the reflection of him as a man mirrored my own projections. Or are they reflections you masterfully and purposely elicited from us? I’d love to discuss him in further detail. I do hope you’ll respond.

  Yours truly,

  Donovan Boudreaux

  Carina’s response had been brilliant, her sister pulling excerpts from two news interviews she’d done and quoting one of her favorite proverbs.

  Mr. Boudreaux,

  Thank you for your kind words. Your support of my work is appreciated, and I found your question interesting. I think what you deemed disdain was anything but. Dr. Hanover was one of my favorite characters to write, and I’m pleased that the dynamics of his personality did not get lost in the details of the mystery. Dr. Hanover’s character was drawn to invoke a whirlwind of emotion from the reader, that connection both thought-provoking and substantive. To quote one of my favorite Scriptures: “As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another.” Proverbs 27:17. Dr. Hanover served his purpose if you were rooting for him, his advice and wisdom intended to sharpen yours. Thank you for reaching out and please do keep in touch.

  Happy reading,

  Gianna

  And Donovan had kept in touch, continuing to write. His brief paragraphs had expanded to lengthier messages, and Carina had kept up nicely, pulling her responses right from Gianna’s private writings. Gianna was surprised by how her twin had pieced the responses together, some of the replies so spot-on that she would never have believed Carina had anything at all to do with them if she hadn’t known better. It was almost as if her twin had been stowed away in her head, privy to her thoughts and possessing an understanding of her worldview. It was a cosmic connection like no other, and Gianna didn’t know if she could have done the same so successfully.

  She pulled one of his last messages from the folder, the literary connection having evolved into something she couldn’t even begin to define.

  Dearest Gianna,

  I marvel at how you’re able to articulate what I’m feeling, when I can’t even find the words. You are correct. I would be disappointed if I’m not selected for this teaching fellowship. But I’m a man, and my disappointment should not be telling. There are some issues I should not be sensitive about, and because I’m a man that sensitivity should definitely not show. If it does, it would be seen as a sign of weakness. What woman would want a weak man?

  Gianna marveled, too. Her sister’s crafted reply had been award-worthy.

  Donovan, Donovan, Donovan!

  Every woman wants a man who owns his feelings! Sensitivity can never be seen as weakness if it walks hand in hand with honesty. Owning our emotions is empowering. Of course you’ll be disappointed! You worked hard to qualify for the opportunity. You want it! You are deserving of it! So claim it and think of the day you land in Italy, when you can stand beneath the brightest blue sky and watch the sunset that I watch daily. No woman should want a man who would do any less than that!

  And now this stranger, who was connected with Gianna in a way that she found outrageously absurd, was on his way to the Italian coast, expecting that she would be as excited to see him as he was to see her. It was crazy and overwhelming, and despite every ounce of reservation she was feeling, she was intrigued and curious in the same breath.

  Chapter 3

  Donovan stood with his brother Kendrick, the two men waiting in the flight hangar for the preflight maintenance check on their brother Mason’s private plane to be completed. Membership having its privileges surely applied as Donovan eyed the luxury aircraft, one of a dozen planes that Mason had at his disposal. The opportunity to fly private planes had been a gift, the gesture humbling, and Donovan couldn’t begin to know how he’d ever be able to repay the favor.

  “I promise, baby! I will call you the minute I land,” Kendrick was saying while rolling his eyes. He exchanged a look with his brother as he continued his conversation. “Vanessa! It’s only three days. I’ll be back before you know it. I promise!”

  There was a pause, Vanessa’s raised voice echoing out of the receiver in Kendrick’s hand. The man blew a heavy sigh. “I swear, honey! This is not a covert mission. I am not disappearing underground on any assignment. I ride a desk now, remember?”

  Donovan smiled. Kendrick settling down with his new wife had come with a host of challenges for his younger brother. The couple had met when the FBI agent had been assigned to Vanessa’s protective detail, whisking her away to one of the world’s most romantic honeymoon spots to protect their cover. Despite Kendrick’s assurances that his secret agent days were over, Vanessa remained unconvinced, crippled by anxiety every time he disappeared from town.

  Kendrick shook his head as he disconnected. “She’s going to kill me.”

  Donovan laughed. “You tagging along with me isn’t what she thinks it is, is it?”

  Kendrick shook his head. “I have some work to take care of once we drop you off and send Mason’s plane back his way. I’ll be meeting up with my unit in Florence and going on to Greece. I just didn’t give Vanessa all the details of this little venture. I just told her you were scared and wanted me to check things out for you.”

  “Why would I be scared?”

  His brother shrugged. “Your sisters have her convinced that you’re a little soft. I just rolled with it.”

  Donovan’s eyes widened as he stared his brother down.

  “What?” Kendrick asked, tossing him a look. “Even you know the girls think you’re a little easy. They’re always afraid someone’s going to take advantage of you because you’re so trusting.”

  Donovan shook his head.

  Kendrick chuckled. “Hey, it’s no big deal. It gives me an excuse to go do what I need to do.”

  “Do I even want to ask?” Donovan said.

  “Nope! Because if I tell you I’ll have to shoot you, and we don’t want to ruin your trip.” Kendrick laughed as he changed the subject. “So, are you excited?”

  “I’m nervous. Not scared,” he emphasized, “but nervous.”

  “About teaching? That’s your thing, bro! Why would you be nervous?”

  Donovan met his brother’s curious stare. “I just...well...” he
stammered, his eyes skating back and forth as he tried to choose his words carefully. “There’s someone...a woman... She...”

  Kendrick eyed him with a raised brow. “Okay, spill it. What aren’t you telling me?”

  There was a moment of pause before Donovan answered, lost in his thoughts about Gianna as he reflected on what he knew about the woman.

  From her bio, he’d discovered that she held two advanced degrees in science and mathematics. From their communications, he knew that she abhorred traditional intellectual attitudes. So much so that she’d been initially reluctant to communicate with him when she discovered he was a professor.

  From reading her novels, he knew that she was proficient at spinning a good thriller and murder mystery. Gianna had a talent for creating male protagonists who appealed to male readers. Despite her literary accolades, she was famously reclusive and purposely avoided the public eye, preferring to spend her time at her family’s Tuscan estate working in their winery.

  From their exchanges, he took her to be something of a free spirit who practiced yoga religiously, followed an organic diet and was a self-professed nudist. She was passionate about the family’s Tuscan estate and winery, and had once stated that she would readily give up her pursuit of the next great novel to work the vineyards.

  He took a deep breath. “I have a friend there, and I’m nervous about meeting her,” he said finally. “We’ve only communicated by email.”

  Kendrick grinned, his smile full and bright. “A friend? When did you get a friend? Who’s a girl? In Italy?” he questioned, crossing his arms over his chest.

  Donovan felt his own grin spread full and wide across his face. “We’ve been acquainted for a while now.”

  “And she’s Italian?”

  Donovan nodded.

  “Is she in education, too?”

  “She’s a writer. Her name is Gianna.”

  Kendrick paused for a moment. “Gianna Martelli? The author of Mayhem and Madness?”

  “You know her?”