by Noni Calbane
No. As much as he wanted her, he had to keep his distance. She would leave Italy shortly and things would get back to normal. His libido included. In the meantime, keeping up her distaste for him was imperative. If she softened towards him, he wouldn’t be able to resist her.
He exhaled indignantly. “Do you make it a habit of eavesdropping at parties?” he callously retorted.
Gaby gasped loudly. “What else would you expect from a tacky American?” she declared furiously.
Luca smirked at her. “Very little. I expect very little. Except for the obvious of course.” His eyes raked over her body with contempt.
Gaby looked to the ground and could feel the tears stinging the back of her eyes. She choked it back. She couldn’t let it deter her from saying her piece. He’d had this coming since the moment she’d encountered him at the party. Reigning in her distress and antagonism, she spoke calmly and quietly. “I feel truly sorry for you Count Manetti. For all intents and purposes you possess everything most women are looking for in a man. Power. Wealth. Good looks. Most women would think you lack nothing. But I’m not most women. You said at the party you weren’t desperate. Well, neither am I.”
“Really?” He smiled insolently, crossing his arms over his chest. “If you’re so discerning, how do you explain your relationship with Whittaker? He’s hardly brimming with character.”
Gaby raised her chin at him. “Easy. There is no relationship,” she continued, hands on hips. “Your party was my first and last date with him. David Whittaker is a complete jerk.”
Luca chuckled.
“Oh, you find that funny Count Manetti?” she smiled. “I’ll have you know that America doesn’t hold the monopoly on jerks. In fact, there are some rather fine specimens here in Italy!”
Luca glared, his hands fisting at his sides. The smile dropped from his face. “You’re likening me to that … that …. Whittaker!”
“If the shoe fits, or should I say, if the Gucci shoe fits,” she threw back.
Gaby turned and crossed the street, eager to leave him in the dust. She’d busted him, good and proper! And the look on his face when he’d found out she understood Italian was more than retribution. It was a frigging Kodak moment!
Walking quickly away, her anger cooled after a few blocks and she took in her surroundings. The architecture of Florence was so beautiful that Gaby marvelled at the local inhabitants, gaily filling the streets with laughter, seemingly oblivious to the history encircling them. The teacher in Gaby was enthralled as she read the dates above antique wooden doors that led to the courtyards of, what were now, apartment buildings.
The night was warm and Gaby decided to walk back to the hotel. Passing outdoor bars and restaurants, she was aware of the amorous glances and catcalls from the male patrons. The Count’s words came back to haunt her. “Pretty enough,” he’d said. Maybe in his world of rail-thin supermodels and debutantes she wasn’t considered an alluring woman. But walking down the cobblestone street tonight she felt like Monica Belluci and Claudia Cardinale rolled into one. She felt confident and sexy. Who needed the approval of some conceited, emotionally immature nobleman to make a girl feel fabulous? Not her.
She hoped Carmina wouldn’t be too upset with her not showing up for dinner. If only she’d brought her cell phone with her. But she’d left her hotel room in such a panic when confronted by Count tall, dark and arrogant, that it completely slipped her mind. As it was, they were meeting for coffee tomorrow morning anyway, so she’d make her apologies then. She wondered if Luca would inform his sister of what happened or just tell her some lie or another.
By nine o’clock Gaby had started to rethink her foolish endeavour to walk back. Luca had certainly covered some ground when speeding through the streets. Her feet hurt. She was hardly wearing the appropriate shoes for walking. Hobbling along she waved madly at the next taxi she saw. She bet Monica Belluci’s feet never hurt!
The taxi took no time at all getting back to her hotel. She was exhausted. Emotionally and physically. The elevator door chimed its arrival at her floor and Gaby sighed in relief. A nice long soak in her room’s humungous bath tub was definitely in order. Digging around in her handbag for her key, she walked down the hallway towards her room, anxiously wanting to get inside and take off her shoes.
A familiar figure stood leaning against her door. His jacket and tie were off and his hair looked like he’d spent the last hour or so raking his hand through it.
Gaby stopped in her tracks midway down the corridor. She wasn’t sure if she had the energy to go another round with the infuriating Luca Manetti.
As she cautiously approached, he smiled guiltily at her. For some reason, it thoroughly annoyed her that he thought he could weasel himself so easily out of any situation; with a smile or a compliment.
Using her best schoolmarm voice, Gaby admonished him. “If you don’t mind Count Manetti, it’s late and I’ve had rather a trying night. So I’m asking you nicely. Leave.”
He didn’t move or answer her. Gaby continued down the hall and stood before him. Sighing, she tried again. “You’re blocking my door. Please. Go. Home.”
His smile fell and his dark brown eyes searched hers intently. The look in his gaze was that of a wounded, unloved animal and cut Gaby to the core. It wasn’t possible to fake a look like that. He was clearly remorseful over his behaviour that evening. Would he still be regretful in the light of day? Well, the jury was still out on that, as far as Gaby was concerned.
“What do you want?” she whispered.
Luca raised his hand as if about to caress her cheek. “Gaby, I want…. I want…,”
Gaby stepped back from his reach. “Yeah. Okay. I get it. I know what you want,” she said, rolling her eyes. He’d spoken with such undisguised longing she had to put a stop to this, if only for her own sanity. So much for keeping her guard up. Her guard was not just sleeping on duty, but had possibly gone AWOL.
She tried another tactic. “Look Luca, I’m only going to be in Italy for a short time, so I think its best that we spend as little of that time in each other’s company.”
“You’re right,” he nodded, finally finding his voice.
“I’m glad you agree,” Gaby said quietly, a little disappointed that he’d so readily concurred.
“I called Carmina. She cancelled the restaurant reservation.”
“Okay … thanks,” she scowled at him.
Luca looked away and bit his lip. “I just wanted to make sure you got back safely,” he said softly. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he silently walked away towards the elevator.
Gaby inserted her key in the door as quickly as humanly possible and entered her room. Leaning her back against the closed door, she let out a shaky breath and closed her eyes.
Good, she told herself firmly. They didn’t seem to agree on much, but at least they were both unequivocally certain it was best that they stayed out of each other’s way. Why then did she feel so deflated by the thought of avoiding him in the future?
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Gaby! Here I am!” Carmina called to her from a small marble table at the coffee bar. Gaby sat down and waited for the interrogation to begin.
“So, what happened to you last night?”
Why lie about it? Carmina had a right to know. “You’re brother happened, that’s what,” she replied sulkily. “He didn’t say anything to you?”
“Due caffe’ per favore,” Carmina ordered from the waiter as he passed. “Well, he gave me some pathetic excuse about you not feeling well, and having dinner together another night.” She squinted at Gaby. “You two are certainly giving each other a bad time.”
Gaby blinked at her. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Come now Gaby. From the looks of Luca this morning, I’m not quite sure which one of you came away less unscathed from last night.”
“Hmm,” Gaby contemplated, “He looks bad?”
Carmina smiled. “Well, he doesn’t look good. And that my dea
r friend, for Luca, is most unusual.”
That brought a small smile to Gaby’s face. At least she wasn’t the only one suffering from lack of sleep or peace of mind. Revenge was indeed sweet!
“Gaby, why don’t you just give in and admit it?”
“Admit what?”
Their coffee arrived and Carmina brought it to her lips and looked over the rim at her. “Admit that my brother drives you to distraction in more ways than one.”
Gaby sipped at her coffee. Carmina continued to stare, forcing her to cave. “Alright, alright, I admit it. He makes me crazy. I don’t know whether to kiss him or kill him half the time. And it’s partly your fault you know!”
“Mine?”
“Yes! Getting him to pick me up last night! Maybe I should kill you instead! What were you thinking?”
Carmina laughed. “I thought maybe you were in need of a little gelato. You know. Something bad for you; but oh so delicious.”
Gaby threw her a dirty look. “When I want gelato Carmina, I’ll pick my own flavour, thank you very much.”
“Do they make broccoli flavoured gelato?” Carmina said with a straight face.
“Yuck!” Gaby couldn’t help but grin.
“Esattamente. Exactly! You’re in Italy, Gaby. We don’t eat to live. We live to eat! Enjoy yourself. Have the best gelato you can possibly get, and worry about the calories tomorrow.”
“But what if I want to eat that gelato for the rest of my life? What if I can’t get it out of my system?”
Carmina solemnly chewed on her lip.
“You see. You know I’m right,” Gaby replied, suddenly a little more serious. “It’s best not to get addicted in the first place. Gelato may make you happy for a moment, but in the end all you’re left with is … is …,”
“Really high cholesterol?” Carmina winked at her.
“Esattamente,” Gaby smiled wanly back.
Gaby and Carmina continued to chat and ordered another coffee. Gaby promised to not let Luca interfere with their friendship and Carmina promised that she wouldn’t try any more matchmaking.
After drinking their third espresso, Carmina voiced the very question Gaby had been pondering since the “He’s my brother” bomb was dropped.
“You noticed that Luca and I are not alike, in looks or manner, didn’t you?”
“Well, I do know your mother and Luca’s were not one in the same,” Gaby said shyly. She was eager to know, but their friendship was still too new and fragile for her to come right out and ask what made Luca lose his temper so severely about his mother.
Carmina looked down at her coffee cup and played with the spoon. “I guess not being from here you don’t know the gossip or history of the Manetti’s.”
Placing her hand on top of Carmina’s, she could tell it was obviously not a story that held much joy for her in repeating. “Carmina, you don’t have to tell me.”
“No,” she replied looking up into Gaby’s eyes. “In fact, by telling you, you may just change your opinion of my brute of a brother; for the pain was more his, than mine. You see, Luca’s mother was not a good person. According to our Nonna, her disappearing from Luca’s life was a blessing –although sometimes I’m not so sure. For good or bad, she was his mother.”
“She died when he was four?”
“Yes. And unfortunately our Nonna has not been exactly silent when it comes to keeping her opinion to herself with regard to what happened.”
Carmina began to tell her the complex and agonising story. Luca’s mother had been American. She was a young model and actress who came to Italy to star in a second-rate TV movie and had met the late Count Manetti when the Villa was used as a backdrop for one of the movies party scenes.
It was love at first sight, a whirlwind romance of the most passionate and optimistic kind. The tabloids went haywire. And within two months, the model turned actress, Lana Rogers, became a Countess, a high society hostess, and… an expectant mother.
It was all too much for a twenty-two year old to handle. She said she was homesick; she missed her friends and family. Within weeks of having Luca, she insisted on a solitary trip back to Los Angeles to supposedly visit family. Her trip became more and more extended and very soon she abandoned all pretext of ever wanting to return.
Stories of all night partying and adultery made their way back to Italy, larger than life and in full color via the very tabloids that had called their pairing “the love affair of the decade”. When at last the Count gave her an ultimatum and demanded she come home, Lana had refused. She didn’t want to be a Countess, a wife, or a mother. She wanted to be a star. She wanted to be free of him and Luca.
Her wild ways continued. Drugs, alcohol and the wrong people invaded her world. It was only a matter of time till one or the other would end her existence. Her life was ended at twenty-seven; dying by a former lovers’ hand in a murder-suicide.
Carmina’s mother had come into the Count’s life a few years later. She was the complete opposite of Lana. Older, kinder, unselfish to a fault; she loved the Count with all her heart. The fact that she was divorced with a small child was a moot point. Everyone knew what the Count’s first wife had been like, and wished him the best.
Carmina was Luca’s sister in every way but blood. Her mother had given him all the love his own hadn’t, and he grew from a sullen and withdrawn child into an outgoing and charming teenager under her tutelage. After the Count lost his battle with cancer, she died within months of him. They were partners in death as in life it would seem.
Luca’s disdain and anger towards his own mother remained intact through the years. Sure, he hid it well behind his smooth exterior, and those who knew him socially saw nothing of the pain and heartache. But his hatred for all things American ran deep. As a little boy he believed that America had stolen his mother back, corrupted and killed her. As a man, he knew better, but couldn’t come to grips with the fact that his mother had been the way she was.
By the end of the story, Gaby was in tears. She cried for the little boy abandoned by the one person who should have been his rock. And she cried for the man who hid his anguish with hatred.
Did she really feel sorry for him?
The hurt from his childhood experience had obviously tarnished him, but it was totally unfair to blame and paint all Americans with the same brush, as there were deceitful and untrustworthy people everywhere. No. Although she could understand his feelings of resentment, it didn’t justify his inexcusable behaviour.
From the looks of it, Count Luca Manetti needed a team of packhorses to carry the amount of baggage that came with him. And nowhere on her resume did Gaby have experience as “luggage handler”. Her own bags were quite heavy enough, thank you!
She once again firmly decided to give him as wide a berth as possible and avoid him at all costs. All well and good in theory, but once again she heard in her head Carmina’s earlier words loud and clear, “Easier said than done.”
CHAPTER NINE
Gaby ran out of the bathroom with the towel wrapped around her. The ringtone “You’re so vain” rang out from her handbag; a downloaded leftover from her plane experience with David Whittaker, and a token reminder of how looks can be deceiving.
“Hey Gran-pop,” she cheerily answered. She knew she had been dodging his calls since the party. She was in for it now.
“Hey, yourself,” he replied sternly. “You’ve been avoiding me, young lady.”
“Look. I know what you’re going to say.”
“Really? You can read minds now?” he replied sarcastically.
“I’m sorry.”
“Forgiven. How is it going?”
“Good,” she lied.
“Gabriella?”
She sighed. “I’m working on it Gran-pop. I need more time.”
“You haven’t changed your mind, have you?” he asked suspiciously.
Frowning, Gaby plunked herself down on the bed. “Well. Has it even occurred to you that what we’re doing is wrong?�
�
He snorted. “You’re telling me it hadn’t occurred to you before now?”
“Yeah, it did. But being here; getting to know and like the people involved …”
“Never get personally involved with anyone,” he interrupted. “That’s the number one rule.”
“Well, I guess I didn’t get the memo,” she replied flippantly.
“Don’t be facetious, my girl,” he reprimanded.
“Sorry. I’m going to the Villa this evening for dinner with Carmina. I’ll call you after, if the time difference works. Any advice for tonight?”
Her Grandfather paused. “The only advice I can give is to get close to the family. Do whatever it takes. I’ve heard the current Count is young and quite attractive,” he chuckled softly, “Perhaps that avenue could be explored.”
“Are you asking me to …,”
“I’m only saying that you’ll never meet a Count hiding in that school in Boston you work at. Play your cards right and who knows.”
“If that’s how you want me to get the necklace, then I’m sorry to disappoint you –I won’t do it.”
“Greed is a powerful emotion.”
“But I’m not doing this for greed, I’m doing it for you.”
There was silence at the other end of the line.
“I’ll call you later,” Gaby said quietly, reviewing in her head the last part of their conversation.
“Call me when you get the necklace. Goodbye Gabriella.”
“Bye.”
Scowling, Gaby disconnected and shuddered. She’d never heard him speak so harshly to her. A sense of deep foreboding overcame her. She wasn’t cut out for this after all. Her likeness to her Grandfather didn’t run as deep as she thought it did. Did he actually think she would or could seduce a man like Count Luca Manetti? If anything, it was the other way round – he was much more accomplished in the art of that particular past time. Well, she wouldn’t do it. To tell the truth, she wasn’t quite sure she knew how!
Grabbing her dress off the hanger, she stomped towards the bathroom to dress.