‘Here we go.’ Philippe smiled at her as the producer began to count down from five.
Sofia beamed encouragingly from the sidelines, though Annabella knew her well enough to know what her sister was thinking: this was the last place where Annabella belonged.
Yes, appearing live on Philippe Merchant’s prime-time television show to talk about herself was Annabella’s idea of hell on earth. Millions of people around Europe, maybe even the world, would be watching. She’d counted on that. She needed to prove to Alessandro that she he could trust her. And when she’d told him she loved him, she’d meant it.
***
‘So, Annabella, you’re now the most in demand chocolatier in Europe, no? Well, perhaps after me.’ Philippe paused as the studio audience laughed at their charismatic host.
‘So tell us,’ he continued. ‘Is it really true? You’re leaving De Costa Cioccolato to work for Conti Creations?’
Annabella cleared her throat. She looked out into the expectant audience, squinting as the bright lights dazzled her gaze. She locked eyes with Sofia. Her sister nodded and smiled. The smile that Annabella had so missed over the last two years but had now returned so full of life. She could do this.
‘No Philippe. There is no way in the world I would ever work for that company,’ Annabella declared emphatically.
Excited murmuring enlivened the studio audience at this sudden revelation, before they settled into a pregnant silence, keenly awaiting more.
The anticipation was almost palpable. Annabella realised her dramatic statement required qualifying, but she’d surprised even herself that she’d managed to get those words out. And this was just the beginning.
‘And why is that?’ Philippe prompted a little too eagerly, clearly trying to subdue his delight at the drama that Sofia had promised would unfold.
‘Because I know more about the Conti family than most. Umberto Conti was my father.’
Bam. Annabella could hear the sudden intake of breath from virtually everyone in the room. Again whispers unsettled the crowd. Even Sofia looked stunned that the wheels of her plan were now in motion. There was no turning back.
‘Please, please,’ Philippe urged the audience to quiet down.
‘And Rachel Bonaparte was my mother,’ Annabella blurted out. She was on a roll now. The audience couldn’t maintain their composure as they excitedly babbled to each other and started calling out questions.
Annabella watched Philippe rise from he seat as he implored the audience to calm down. Though he too was unable to hide the excitement on his face. She could almost hear the whirring buzz in his head as he was surely calculating his rapidly rising ratings.
***
Alessandro couldn’t believe what he was watching. Had Annabella just declared on live television that she was the illegitimate child of two of Europe’s most infamous chocolatiers? What on earth was she playing at now?
‘Can you believe this, Papa?’ Alessandro impatiently stood up from the sofa, raking his hands through his hair.
Valentino reclined in the easy chair Ale had bought for him since he’d returned home from the hospital. Ale had insisted that his father stay at his place while he recuperated. He looked at Valentino now, seemingly at ease. Since when was he the relaxed one?
After Annabella’s sudden departure, Ale had decided to tell his father the truth. Valentino was in a stable condition now and Ale was pleased to have a confidante in his father again. He’d admitted that he’d manufactured his relationship with Annabella for the benefit of the board so that he could concentrate on securing success for the company.
Surprisingly, Valentino hadn’t been as shocked or angry as Ale had anticipated. Instead he’d just smiled and told his son to be patient. Go on as normal. Chi ama, crede. He’d advised. He who loves, trusts. Ale didn’t have the heart to tell him he was inherently incapable of both those things.
‘Wait, Ale.’ Valentino motioned to the television. ‘Annabella’s a smart woman. I believe there is method to her madness, no?’
Ale sat down again. He studied that beautiful face on the screen. Oh Dio, how he’d missed looking into those soulful eyes that had seemed to know him so well.
And he’d thought he’d known her too. But how much of what she’d told him was real? A wave of bitterness tainted the sweet memories that were starting to cloud his thoughts once again.
Annabella’s wide eyes blinked through the camera lens, as though looking directly at him. Like a deer in the headlights. He knew how much she’d hate doing this. Being on television for the world to see. Totally exposed. He’d bet he’d taste chocolate if he could kiss those sweet lips.
The TV host returned to his seat as Annabella sat still, an unmistakable look of determination on her face. Ale noticed her fingertips gently pull at the light fabric of her skirt. The nervous gesture reminded him of when he’d first met Annabella in his office. Her proud facade that hadn’t quite concealed the bundle of nerves beneath. But she’d been fierce nonetheless.
She’d been on a mission, he knew that now. But hadn’t she already got what she’d wanted? Wealth, a world-class reputation and her choice of exclusive positions, including at his archrival’s company? What did she hope to gain now?
‘Okay, okay,’ Philippe said, quieting the audience. ‘Sorry Annabella, forgive our surprise but this is certainly unexpected. Umberto Conti was your father and Rachel Bonaparte your mother? If my memory serves me correctly, that partnership certainly didn’t end well, no?’
‘To say the least, Philippe. Umberto blackmailed my mother and forced her to leave the country when he discovered she was pregnant with his child, me. Then, despite doing as he’d asked, he publically humiliated her by leaking information to the press, ruining her reputation. The truth is he stole her recipes, De Costa’s recipes, and claimed them as his own work.
‘Today I want to make it perfectly clear that Umberto Conti was my father in name only. Roberto Conti was mistaken to think I would have any familial allegiance to his company. I will not be blackmailed. I will not be treated the same way his family treated my mother.’
‘Annabella, I feel I have say at this point, these are very serious accusations,’ Philippe said, leaning forward earnestly.
‘Thank you, Philippe, but I’m not afraid of Conti Creations claiming any kind of defamation because every single word of what I’m telling you today is true.’ Annabella looked directly at the camera.
Alessandro sat motionless, caught by Annabella’s gaze as the camera zoomed in on her face. She was looking at him. There would be millions of people watching her at this exact moment, but he knew her words were for him. He stared back at her, seemingly connected despite their distance.
‘And why have you decided to come here today?’ Philippe asked as the camera panned out.
Alessandro stared at Annabella, unable to shift his attention to anything else. She had him on the edge of his seat, her words drawing him closer to her, bridging the wide abyss he’d thought was insurmountable.
‘I’ve realised how important it is for people to know the truth. I’m proud of my work and of who I am. But until now I’ve had to pretend to be someone else. I was worried if people knew who my parents were they wouldn’t be able to see beyond the scandal. I wanted to be taken seriously by own merit.’
‘But surely, now that you’re a celebrity, it was only a matter of time before you were found out, no?’
‘I wasn’t trying to deceive anyone, I simply wanted people to see me, not a history I have no control over. But I’m not ashamed of my mother, far from it. I was waiting for the right time to make a public statement but Roberto Conti confronted me and took the decision out of my hands by giving photos of us to the press, suggesting we were making some kind of deal. I would never betray the De Costas like that. Despite what the tabloids may have you believe, that’s not who I am.’
‘The platform is yours now, Annabella, tell us, who are you?’ Philippe asked.
As the camera
zoomed in on her face once more, Alessandro cursed himself that he hadn’t offered her the chance to answer that question when she’d so painfully told him about her past. Instead he’d ordered her to leave. A sharp pain clenched in his chest as he awaited her answer now.
‘I am the daughter of an extraordinary woman whose love and talent nurtured my dreams, though she sadly passed away before they came to fruition. I am the sister of an amazing chocolatier, my mentor Sofia, whose determination and creativity drives my own.
‘And I’m a woman very much in love with a complicated, passionate man who inspires me to face challenges and stand up for what’s right, even if it means sitting here with you, Philippe, confessing all my secrets.’ Annabella smiled teasingly at the host. The audience laughed softly.
She had them. Alessandro wasn’t surprised; she was exquisite. Sincere, humble, brave. He was proud of her, even if a part of him couldn’t help but wonder if this was just another brilliant performance.
‘Ah yes, Alessandro.’ Philippe continued. ‘There’s been a lot of speculation about your relationship, particularly after the Conti exposé and your sudden departure from Turin. Why did you leave?’
‘I know you and your audience would love another scandal, Philippe, but I’m afraid to tell you that my love for Alessandro is as strong as ever. I’m in Paris for personal reasons at the moment and will need to return to Australia. But I hope Ale and I will be together again soon.’
‘It must be hard being so far apart.’
‘Very,’ Annabella said quietly, clasping her hands together as she looked down at her lap, as though closing the subject.
‘Let’s take a break,’ Philippe said gently, before turning to the camera. ‘When we return, it’s time to talk chocolat!’
As the show cut for a commercial break, the camera panned out revealing the perimeter of the set and the large studio audience. The sense of intimacy between host and guest gave way to the gravity of the public spectacle.
Unable to take his eyes off Annabella until the final moment, so brave yet so fragile in the spotlight, Alessandro realised the magnitude of the situation. It would have been hard enough for Annabella to have that conversation with a close friend in private, let alone with a celebrity on live television.
‘So, pretty good, no, Papa?’ he said cynically, trying to conceal the conflicting emotions he was feeling.
‘What, Ale? You think she wasn’t sincere?’
‘On the contrary, I think her performance was so convincing she seemed very sincere. If you didn’t know her you would for sure believe her.’
‘No Ale, we know how much Annabella detests public attention. Why on earth would she put herself through that if she didn’t mean any of it.’
‘It was great for the company, no? Put the board at ease, assure them that we’re still a happy couple. That I didn’t put the company into the hands of another Conti traitor. Remember, she’s still under contact until next week. Now she’s fulfilled her part of the bargain, she can get paid out, no?’
‘Ale, you don’t mean that. She didn’t expose herself like that for money. Any fool can see she loves you. Forgive her. Please, my boy, let yourself be happy.’
‘Why are you so forgiving, Papa? Have you forgotten who her mother was? Not to mention her father.’
‘Ale, after everything that’s happened these last few months, I’ve come to learn that we gain nothing by dwelling on the past. I nearly lost you.’ Valentino’s eyes glistened at his son. ‘As for Umberto, I don’t expect Annabella to suffer for the sins of her father, a man she didn’t even know.’
‘I must say your near-death experience has certainly changed your perspective on my life.’
‘Annabella did that actually.’ Valentino paused as he leant forward in his chair and motioned for Ale to take a seat opposite him. ‘She visited me at the hospital before she left. She gave me all her notes, recipes that you worked on together as well as new ideas for the next line. She’d planned to stay with us a long while. With you, my lucky boy.
‘And remember she got you back in the kitchen, something I’d never been able to do. You even let her be your boss. When you told me your relationship was a sham I chose not to believe it. I know love when I see it. I saw it then and I see it now.’
‘I’m sorry, Papa, but I can’t forget. All the time we spent together, I confided in her, told her things I’d never told anyone. She could have done the same with me but instead chose to continue her deception. Is that love? To fool someone so easily? I understand her motivation now and yes, it was noble, but I was the price she paid.’
‘And what was the price you paid, Ale? You had no problem fooling me so easily.’
‘Papa, I did it for you. You were so ill I had to put your mind at ease. And you were right, I’m incapable of serious commitment. There was no way I could have a real lasting relationship.’
‘Ale, are you blind? Your chance is right in front of you, literally.’
Valentino motioned to the television screen as the theme music of La Chocolat et Philippe began signalling the end of the commercial break. Philippe and Annabella were now in the studio kitchen for a cooking demonstration.
‘That woman loves you despite all your flaws.’ Valentino smiled. ‘Sure, maybe it started with a contract, but it grew into love, yes? Annabella was probably as surprised as you were and didn’t know what to do.’
Alessandro looked at the television and watched the familiar sight of Annabella lining up her ingredients on the counter and his heart ached, as he could see immediately what the recipe would be.
‘So what are we preparing today, Annabella?’ Philippe asked.
‘A simple but very special recipe, Philippe.’ Annabella looked directly into the camera lens. ‘Chili chocolate ganache.’
Alessandro couldn’t help but smile.
Chapter 10
Please note, full payment has now been made on completion of our contract. Many thanks for your efforts, Alessandro.
Ale’s curt email was emblazoned in Annabella’s memory. Not that there was much to remember. It was short, to the point, void of any emotion. Various fragments invaded her thoughts each day. Courageous television interview. He’d written. The company appreciates all your hard work.
It had been four weeks since her appearance on Philippe’s show and all she’d heard from Ale was that email. An official-sounding thank you to an employee for a job well done.
‘Hey, are you going to open those boxes or just look at them all day?’ Sofia teased, waking her sister from her trance.
‘Sorry, yes, I’m on it.’ Annabella opened a large cardboard box and started to unpack the stainless steel bowls and utensils.
The boutique was due to open in a couple of weeks and there was a lot of work to be done before then. They’d leapt at the opportunity to secure this space in Melbourne’s ‘Little Italy’ in Lygon Street. It was the perfect set-up, with a showroom in the front and commercial kitchen out the back. There would be plenty of room for a least ten students at a time.
‘Look at this, Ann, it’s just arrived.’ Sofia excitedly propped their new shop sign against the wall. The Art Deco design perfectly matched the dark frontage of the building. Annabella caught her breath as she looked at the bold letters: Bonaparte: Academy of Chocolate Artistry.
‘Oh Sof, it’s perfect.’ Annabella’s voice cracked as tears welled in her eyes.
‘We did it, Ann. We made it. Mum would be so proud.’
The sisters embraced as they sobbed in their mutual joy and grief. Finally, they would celebrate their mother’s name and have her remembered as she deserved to be: as one of the world’s greatest master chocolatiers. Their school would teach her innovative techniques to the next generation of apprentice pastry chefs.
‘Okay, enough of that. We’ve got a shop to stock and a kitchen to clean.’ Sofia dusted off her hands and rolled up her sleeves exaggeratedly.
‘And you’ve got your appointment this afternoon, rem
ember.’
As advised, following the trial Sofia had been appointed a specialist to provide ongoing treatment. Already paid for by Alessandro before everything had changed between them. Annabella had sent him a cheque to cover part of the cost but he hadn’t cashed it. Maybe he’d already moved on and she was just a memory he didn’t want to revisit.
‘Yes siree.’ Sofia grinned at Annabella as she started to wipe out the kitchen cupboards.
Annabella was amazed at the difference in her sister since they’d come back from Paris. After four intensive weeks, Sofia had developed a whole new outlook on life. While there was hope of her regaining her sense of taste and smell, it was no longer her obsession. She’d come to realise there were exciting options for her even if she never fully recovered.
Managing the business and teaching technical skills in their boutique kitchen was now Sofia’s main concern, while Annabella worked on Bonaparte’s new collection.
Many thanks for your efforts. There he was again, always in her head. Her heart had swelled with hope when she’d seen Ale’s message in her email inbox the week after the television show had aired.
During those agonising few days after her appearance on Philippe’s show, she’d dared to imagine that Ale would realise she was sorry and give her another chance. And then that email. Not a trace of feeling or acknowledgement of what they had shared. She’d laid her heart completely bare on live television and he’d thrust it back to her with no more than Many thanks.
Once he’d known the truth he couldn’t seem to see past her history. To him she was the daughter of the woman who abandoned him as a child and of the man who sought to destroy his family. He couldn’t see just her anymore.
‘I’m sorry it didn’t turn out the way we’d hoped, Ann.’ Sofia said softly, she could always read Annabella’s mind.
Hot Chocolate Page 15