to Love Again (1981)

by Steel, Danielle

  Like a fellow conspirator he waited in the living room while she got dressed. She emerged giggling, in black slacks and sweater, with a black Borsalino fedora pulled low over one eye.

  Do I look mysterious? She was laughing, and so was he.

  Very much so!

  He even had the Rolls parked a few doors away, and they slipped unnoticed into the restaurant, where they gorged and Isabella chatted happily with their waiter as they drank inexpensive Roman wine.

  Promise you won't tell Natasha! She'd kill me for this. Her eyes sparkled, and he agreed.

  I couldn't tell her. She'd probably kill me first. But he didn't feel nervous about Natasha. He knew that Isabella was safe, and when they had had their fill of pasta and the simple red wine, they drove slowly home with a brief detour through the park. Happy? She nodded and settled her head against his shoulder. She had put her hat on the seat beside her, and her raven hair lay softly against his coat. He touched it gently, and then her cheek with his hand. And his eyes never seemed to leave her as he and Isabella went slowly inside.

  Do you want to come in for coffee? She looked at him invitingly, but it wasn't coffee either of them had in mind.

  He nodded and followed her inside, but once in the hallway, Isabella never bothered to put on the lights. She found herself instantly in Corbett's arms and in the darkness felt herself throbbing with a passion that she had long since forgotten, as Corbett pressed his mouth down on hers. Breathlessly they walked hand in hand to the bedroom, and without turning on the lights, Corbett undressed her and she him, and their bodies joined at last. It seemed hours later when she turned on a small light and smiled at him as he lay in her bed. She looked around the room at the debris of their clothes, and she started to laugh.

  What's so funny, my darling?

  We are. She looked down at him and then kissed him softly on the neck. You can't trust us at all. My roommate goes away for the weekend, and what do we do? We run out for dinner and then we come home and make love.

  He pulled her slowly back down to him. ' and then we do it again ' and again ' and again. '

  Chapter TWENTY-TWO

  April and May sped past them very quickly. When the weather permitted, they went walking every evening, or they went on drives. Sometimes they took Alessandro to the country and watched the look of wonder in his eyes as he played in grass, and built castles on still deserted beaches. And once or twice they took Natasha with them. For the first few weeks she had tried to pretend that she didn't know what was happening, but at last she had asked. And Isabella had nodded girlishly as she laughed and admitted that she and Corbett were in love.

  She was obviously immensely happy, and whenever Natasha saw Corbett, so was he. But it was also clear to Natasha that aside from Isabella's delight about her romance she still had major worries with her work.

  It was a warm, balmy evening when Corbett arrived at the house with a hansom cab to take Isabella for a drive. She laughed when she saw it, and they rode around in it for two hours.

  So how was work today, sweetheart? He pulled her closer to him and looked down into the dark eyes.

  Terrible. Bernardo is giving me trouble again.

  The new line?

  No, that's already settled. We open next week. It's everything else. Plans for the winter, cosmetics, fabrics, I don't know. He's impossible right now.

  It could be that there's too much on his shoulders with you over here.

  What are you suggesting? She looked at him tiredly. That I go home?

  Hardly. I've always thought though that there are things you could change.

  I know, but I can't now. Not while I'm here. The way she said it made her think of Rome again, which was something she hated to admit to Corbett now. They had clung to each other as though it would be forever, but sooner or later she would have to go home. And Corbett's business would always keep him in the States. Nothing is forever, she thought to herself, and then pushed the words from her mind.

  Well, don't worry about it. Things will probably settle down in a few days.

  But they didn't. For the next two weeks, matters only got worse. Blowup after blowup after argument after fight. Isabella was sick of it. She told Bernardo that one morning on the phone. He seemed to have separated himself from her and seemed, in fact, better able to handle his feelings for her.

  Oh, Bernardo, she thought to herself more than once. If only it could be you I love. Life would be so much simpler.

  Be sensible for chrissake and sell out.

  Ah, no, that again! Listen, Bernardo, I thought we settled that before I left!

  No, we did not. You just refused to listen to reason. Well, I've had it up to here. Gabriela is doing the work of ten people, you change the goddamn fabrics every time we turn around, you don't understand a thing about marketing cosmetics, and I get stuck cleaning up after you every goddamn time.

  Is that right, then why don't you have the balls to quit like a man instead of telling me to sell out? Maybe the problem is with you, and not with the business! It's you who makes the problems between us all the time, you who won't do what I tell you. Why don't you do what I ask you to do for a change instead of shoving F-B down my throat everytime I open my mouth?

  The rage of Italian continued from Isabella's office. I won't listen to this anymore. And if you don't stop it, I'm coming home, she shouted. The hell with all that garbage about danger. You're running my business into the goddamn ground. It wasn't a fair accusation and she knew it, but the level of frustration between them had surged tidal-wave high. She had been in the States for five months and the charm of doing business this way was beginning to wear very thin.

  Do you have any idea of what you're doing, Isabella? Have you ever even listened to the F-B people? No. Of course not. You would rather sit on your ass over there and insult me and hang on to your business and your ego and save face.

  The business is perfectly solid and you know it.

  Yes, I know it. But the fact is I can't do it alone anymore, and you still can't come home. Circumstances, Isabella, circumstances. Your grandfather ran into circumstances too, and he was smart enough to sell out.

  I never will.

  Of course not. She could hear the acid in his voice. Because you're too proud to, despite that fact that F-B and IHI and Ewing have all been begging me for you to sell out. Well, in point of fact, not lately, he went on, but I know damn well all I have to do is pick up the phone and call them and you'd have yourself a deal.

  There was no answer to what he'd said to her. Isabella was shocked nearly speechless.

  Who?

  What are you talking about? She wasn't making sense suddenly, and he was confused.

  I'm asking you who's been offering to buy us. Her voice had the ring of cold steel.

  Are you crazy? I've been telling you since last October and you ask me who?

  I don't give a damn. Tell me now. Slowly.

  Farnham-Barnes. He spoke to her as though she were retarded.

  And who else?

  No one. What's wrong with you? F-B. F-B. F-B. And they belong to IHI.

  And what was that other name?

  What? Ewing? He's chairman of the board of IHI. The offer originally came from him.

  Oh, my God.

  What is it?

  Nothing. She was shaking from head to foot.

  The picnics. The walks, the dinners the firehouse ' they flashed before her eyes what a fine joke on her. It was a love affair his love affair with the House of San Gregorio.

  Should I call them?

  No. Do you understand me? Never! Cancel our dealings with F-B as of today. Call them, or I'll do it myself!

  You are crazy!

  Listen to me, Bernardo, I am not crazy and I've never been more serious in my life. Call F-B and tell them to drop dead. Now, today. Finito. No more offers, no more orders. Nothing. And get yourself ready. I'm coming home this week. She had just decided. The nonsense had gone on for long enough. If you still t
hink it's necessary, hire two guards, but that's all. I'll call you and let you know when I'm arriving.

  Are you bringing Alessandro? Bernardo was shocked. She was speaking in a voice that he hadn't heard in years. Maybe never. She was suddenly ice and daggers, and he was glad he wasn't in the same room with her or he'd have feared for his skin.

  I'm not bringing Alessandro. He can stay here.

  How long will you be here? He didn't even argue. He knew there was no point. Isabella was coming home. Punto. Period. Finito. And maybe she was right. It was time.

  For as long as I have to be to whip you and everyone else there back into line. Now call Farnham-Barnes.

  You're serious? He was truly shocked now.

  I am.

  Capito.

  And tell them to get the penthouse ready. I'll stay there. Without further ado she hung up on him.

  How dare you! Isabella marched into the tiny room and stood glaring at Natasha.

  What?

  How dare you!

  How dare I what? Natasha looked at her in sudden terror. Isabella stood before her, trembling from head to foot, her face white as paper, and her hands clenched at her sides.

  You set me up!

  Isabella? You're not making sense! Had she cracked up then? Was the strain of the business too much for her? But as Natasha watched her, it was clear that she had something very definite on her mind. She sat down suddenly, eyeing Natasha, an evil smile of fury hovering on her face.

  Let me tell you a little story then, Isabella said. Perhaps after that we'll both understand. Last October, after my husband died you know, Amadeo perhaps you remember him? Well, he died, the victim of a brutal kidnapping' .

  Natasha stared at her. If this was madness, it was calculated madness, cold and furious, with every word dipped in bitterness. Frightened, she watched her. There was nothing to do now but let her go on.

  He left me with his business, a large and successful couture house in Rome. We also do ready-to-wear, cosmetics, lingerie, I won't bore you with the list. I took over the business, worked my ass off, and vowed to myself and Amadeo that I would keep the business strong, until one day our son could take over, in twenty-five or thirty years. But lo and behold, my right-hand man, Bernardo Franco, first proposes marriage. Natasha was shocked, but Isabella pressed on. And then announces to me that an American business named Farnham-Barnes wants to buy me out. No, I tell him. I'm not selling. But he pushes and he pushes and he tries and he tries. Unsuccessfully. I won't sell. So, miraculously, one day a phone call comes, telling me that my son has been kidnapped too. Only, fortunately, it is a hoax. And my son is fine. Bernardo then tells me that my life and the child's are not safe in Rome. I must leave, he tells me. So I call my friend Natasha Walker in New York, whom, as it so happens, he has screwed once or twice when she was in Rome. Natasha began to argue, but Isabella held up a hand. Let me go on. I then call my friend Natasha, who invites me to stay with her. An elaborate plan is concocted to keep me safe and to run the business from Natasha's apartment in New York. Wonderful. Bernardo tries once again to get me to sell to F-B and I won't. I fly to America, with my son, and my friend Natasha picks us up at the airport, with a friend in a very pretty Rolls-Royce. I then live with Natasha, I run my business, Bernardo drives me crazy, and every time he has the opportunity he bugs me to sell out. I still hold my ground. But I become friends with the man at the airport, Mister Corbett Ewing. Conveniently my friend,' she dripped venom on the words Natasha, invites me to join her at a film premiere. I go, and whom should I be sitting next to, but Mister Corbett Ewing, who only happens to be the chairman of the board of IHI, which owns Farnham-Barnes, which wants to buy me out. Happy coincidence, no? I then spend three months being pumped about my business, being courted, being primed by this monster, this user, this villain, who wants to buy my business and will apparently do anything to do it, including pretending to be in love with me, playing up to my child, and using my friends.' Natasha, of course, invites him over night and day and is thrilled when we fall in love.' And what happens then, my dear, do you get a commission from Corbett when he marries me and convinces me to sell to him?

  Natasha looked at her in astonishment and slowly stood up. Do you mean what you're saying?

  Isabella was like ice now. Every word. I think Bernardo arranged the hoax about Alessandro to get me out of the way, he used you to send me over here, and you saw to it that Corbett Ewing got close to me! It was all very handsomely done, but it's useless, because I will never sell out. Never! Not to Corbett, not to anyone, and I think what you all did is disgusting! Do you hear me, damn you? Disgusting! You were my friend! There were tears of rage and disappointment in her eyes now, and Natasha dared not approach.

  Isabella, I did nothing. Nothing! It was you who wanted to come here. You who wanted to go to that damned premiere. I didn't want you to do it. What do you think, that I tipped off the press? Oh, Jesus! She sat down again and ran a hand through her tangled hair.

  I don't believe you. You're lying, like Bernardo. Like him.

  Look, Isabella, please. I know this is difficult, and the way you tell it, everything fits, but it just happened that way, no one planned it, certainly not Corbett. There were tears running down her face now. He loves you, I know that. He was distraught when he found out who you were after the premiere. He came here the day after to tell you; he talked about it with me. He was afraid that something like this might happen. But he didn't tell you. I don't know why, but something happened that night that made him change his mind. He was afraid of losing you before he had a chance, and he hoped that if it ever came out, by then you might understand.

  Understand what? That he slept with me to steal my business? I understand that perfectly.

  For chrissake, listen to me. Natasha was sobbing and holding her head in both hands. He loves you, he didn't want to lose you. When he found out who you were, he told his men at F-B to drop their offer and never ever mention his name.

  Well, Bernardo just did.

  Was it a new offer, or was he still referring to the old one?

  I don't know, but I'll inform myself about it when I go to Rome. Which brings up my only further question. You say you're my friend well, I have no one to turn to no matter what I think the truth is will you keep Alessandro for me while I go home?

  Of course. When are you leaving? Natasha looked shocked.

  Tonight.

  For how long?

  A month, two months. As long as it takes me. I don't know. And keep that bastard away from my child while I'm gone. When I return, I'll work out another arrangement. If I am not going back to Rome permanently, I'll find a place of my own.

  You don't have to do that, Isabella. Natasha had crumpled onto her bed, crushed.

  Yes, I do. She started to leave the room, then stopped for a moment. Thank you for keeping Alessandro for me. She loved Natasha. They had been through much together. No matter what the truth was.

  Natasha was still crying. I love him, and I love you. What are you going to say to Corbett?

  Just what I told you.

  She called him then, and he was there an hour later, looking scarcely better than Natasha had when she was through.

  Isabella, all I can tell you is that I tried to tell you so many times. But something always intervened. He looked at her, heartbroken, from a seat halfway across the room. He didn't dare to come near her. I'm horrified it came out this way.

  You had to push and pump and prime and find out and dig inside my head for all you could learn about the house. Well, do you know enough now? It won't do you a bit of good, you know. I'm not selling, and I had Bernardo cancel all our dealings with Farnham-Barnes as of today.

  There has been no offer from F-B to San Gregorio in over three months.

  I'll have to check that out. But it makes no difference. You were smart enough not to make offers while you were courting' me, maybe you figured that I was smart enough to find you out. But then what? What did you have in mind,
Corbett, to marry me and charm me out of San Gregorio? You never stood a chance.

  What are you going to do now?

  I'm going back to Rome and kick everyone's ass right back into line.

  And then what? Come back here to hide again? Why don't you bring the business with you? That's the only thing that makes any sense.

  Never mind what I do with my business. You've already said and done enough.

  Then I'll go now. But you must know one thing, Isabella. What happened between us was real, it was honest, I meant every bit of it.

  It was a lie.

  It wasn't. I love you.

  I don't want to hear it! She stood up and smiled at him viciously, Nothing lasts forever, Corbett. Remember? Not even a lie. You used me, dammit! You took my faith and my heart and my body and my vulnerability, and you used me, just to add another notch to your corporate belt. San Gregorio. Well, you got me, but you won't get the rest.

  I can't say I never wanted the rest. Before I met you, I did. But not after that. Never for an instant after that.

  I will never believe you.

  Then I'll say good-bye.

  She watched as he walked unhappily out of the room. But she was already in her room packing when he waved his car away and walked alone, rapidly, head bent, back to his office.

  Chapter TWENTY-THREE

  The plane touched down at Leonardo da Vinci Airport at 11:05 the next morning. Bernardo and two guards were waiting as she came out of customs, and the greeting she gave Bernardo showed affection as well as strain. She looked exhausted, having not slept a wink on the flight It had been painful leaving Alessandro, awkward leaving Natasha, and all she had wanted to do was get away.

  She had cried halfway to Rome. He had betrayed her. They had all betrayed her. Bernardo, Amadeo, Corbett, Natasha. All the people she trusted. All the people she loved. Amadeo, by dying; Bernardo by his efforts to make her sell out; and Corbett she couldn't bear thinking of it. She wondered how she would begin again, how she would even function anymore.