CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE TRILOGY

by Patrice Wilton

  She felt a little naughty about ditching her friends to go out with a handsome stranger, but she was in Italy for the first time in her life, and what happened here would stay here, she decided.

  Salvatore picked her from her hotel and took her to what he told her was his favorite restaurant in Florence, Trattoria dei Quattro Leoni. It was a lovely home-styled restaurant with traditional Mediterranean cuisine, and to impress her further, the walls were lined with pictures of famous people who’d dined there.

  They started with a platter of antipasto, then Salvatore had ravioli stuffed with lobster, and Anne chose sole with a champagne and caper sauce. During their dinner they drank wine and laughed a lot. He told her about the vineyard his family owned. His sales work for the vineyard entailed traveling extensively throughout Italy and France, distributing his family’s award-winning wines.

  She told him about her life in Florida, the fact that she’d been widowed four years ago and did volunteer work to keep her busy.

  “My friends and I do a little ballroom dancing. We go every Friday night,” she giggled. “We thought we could meet some men, and lose weight on the dance floor.” Anne didn’t tell him that most evenings the women either ended up dancing together or sitting out. She wanted him to see her as a vivacious, glamorous woman, because his life seemed so thrilling. “My husband never liked to dance, so I’m making up for lost time.”

  “I know just the spot for dancing. Will you let me take you?”

  “I sure would. I’d love that, Salvatore.” He kissed her hand and called the waiter for the check.

  She knew he was romancing her and didn’t mind a bit. She wasn’t sure where it would all lead, or if she even wanted it to lead anywhere, but right now she was having the time of her life. She would never forget this glorious night in Florence with this handsome, sophisticated man. It was a memory worth making.

  They walked several blocks to a jazz bar and bistro he knew. They sat at a table and he ordered espresso for them and two shots of Sambuca. Instead of jazz, lovely music was coming from the amplifiers, and it put her in a dreamy mood. “This is beautiful. Who is that singing?”

  “Mario Lanza. You’ve heard of him in America?”

  She smiled. “Yes, of course.” She glanced around. “Why do they call this a jazz bar and not play jazz?”

  “They will later on. It doesn’t get going until eleven or twelve o’clock. People siesta in the afternoon and then they dine late and go to bed late.” He took her hand and lifted her up. “Shall we dance?”

  His arm swept around her narrow waist, and he moved her around the small space. He was a smooth dancer, holding her not too close, but close enough for her chest to be pressed into him. He smelled faintly of perspiration and cologne.

  They danced to the end of the song, and instead of going back to their seats, he waltzed her through the next song too. She was winded, but tried to keep up. After all, she’d told him she went ballroom dancing every Friday night. She didn’t want to look as if she’d made it up.

  Anne kicked it up a notch, but finally, gasping for air, she sank into the nearest chair. “Water, please.” She fanned her face, trying to get her breathing under control. Her heart was racing painfully fast, and she felt faint.

  Salvatore clicked his fingers for a waiter and one quickly brought over a glass of water. He held it to her lips. “You’ll be all right in a moment. I’m sorry if I danced too fast.”

  “No, no, you didn’t. I don’t know what is wrong with me.” She didn’t feel well. The small pain in her chest, like something was pinching her heart, frightened her.

  “Try to relax and get your breath back. Would you like some more water?”

  “Yes, please.”

  He ran off to get her another glass and returned with it and a damp cloth. “Poor Anne. I made you dizzy.”

  “I’ll be okay in a moment.” She breathed deeply, but it made the pain in her chest worse. And her heartbeat hadn’t slowed. It was running like there was no tomorrow.

  “Salvatore, I feel dizzy, faint.” She pushed herself off the chair. “Let me see if I can stand up.”

  She swayed slightly, and would have stumbled if he hadn’t reached out to steady her. His arm was around her waist, supporting her. The pain in her chest worsened. Was this a heart attack, and was she to meet her darling husband in heaven tonight of all nights?

  She loved her husband but she clutched at Salvatore, not willing to go just yet. “Something is wrong. My heart is beating too quickly. I felt it during dinner, but I thought it was just the excitement of being here in Florence and with you.”

  “And now you think it is not? It’s more serious?”

  His arm held her up, and she could feel the warmth of him. It worried her that he might be the last thing she’d feel. “Yes, yes. I’m sorry. Can you get me a taxi? I think I need to go to the hospital.”

  “O Dio!” His arm tightened around her, and he half-carried her to the street. “I will take you there myself.”

  Out on the street, he whistled and a taxi came to a sliding stop. He gave the driver the name of a hospital, then slipped his arm around Anne, urging her to lean against him. She closed her eyes as her head fell onto his shoulder. It would have been romantic under different circumstances. Now, Anne was struggling to breathe.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Nicole and her mother unloaded the two cars, and they put most of her belongings in the two car garage. Only her suitcases were brought into the second bedroom. She didn’t intend to outstay her welcome. She would crash here for awhile, then find someplace with affordable rent. And she had to start looking for a decent job. She was fed up with Hooters, and having men look at her with no respect.

  She hung up her better clothes, then stuffed her casual wear in the drawers of the armoire. At least she had her own TV. She wished she had her Elliptical machine. That would be the one thing she would collect from the apartment as soon as she had a place of her own. She was addicted to exercise, and this morning she’d had to confront Brett, pack her bags, and skip her normal work out routine. Already she felt full and bloated.

  Must be premenstrual, she thought. Nicole did a mental countdown, then realized her period was late by three days. She was never late. She could set the day of month by it. Yes, she’d been under a certain amount of stress lately, unhappy at work, unhappy with Brett, and confused by her feelings for Jake. So she was stressed.

  No way in hell was she pregnant. This could absolutely not happen. Not now, not when she’d made a clean and final break from Brett.

  Perspiration spotted her brow and dampened her skin. She went into the bathroom that adjoined the guest room and splashed water on her face. For a second she stared at her own reflection in the mirror. She hadn’t inherited her mother’s beautiful blue eyes; hers were hazel like her father’s. They stared back at her, wide and worried.

  She took the scale out from under the sink and stepped on it, noting a two pound gain. She felt her stomach. It seemed fleshier than before. Bloated. Her period would probably arrive today.

  She slipped back into her clothes, determined not to worry about something that was unlikely to happen. Mind over matter. She was not pregnant. She refused to be.

  Her mother knocked on the door. “Nicole, are you all right?”

  “Yes, Mom. I’ll be out in a minute.”

  “Okay, dear. I’ll see about lunch.”

  She put her chin up, straightened her shoulders and left the bathroom. Her mother was in the kitchen. Nicole found a bottle of water in the refrigerator and glugged half of it down. “We worked hard today,” she said to her mother, hoping to keep the conversation easy and light. “That was a lot of lifting and carrying.”

  “Yes. I’m sorry we had to put so many of your things in the garage, but we can sort it all out later.”

  “That’s fine, Mom. I’m going to start looking for something that’s small and affordable, and I’ll be out of your hair soon.”

  “There’
s no hurry,” her mother said. “You just got here and I’m delighted to have you back.” She lifted Nicole’s chin to look into her eyes. “Is there no chance you’ll get back with Brett?”

  “No, none. It’s over.”

  “You’ve said that before, but this time I believe you,” Christine said gently. “Would you like to talk about it, sweetie? I know you must be very upset. You loved him once.”

  “I did, but I haven’t for some time.” Nicole bit her lip and felt tears sting her eyes. “It sounds awful, but it just faded away.”

  “That happens. I’m sorry to say that love doesn’t always last forever, no matter how much we wish it would.”

  Nicole knew how devastated her mother had been when her dad left. For about a week, she hadn’t gone to work, saying she couldn’t face her friends or clients. And she couldn’t stop crying. Her mother would begin weeping at the strangest things.

  “Mom, I’m sorry I wasn’t more supportive of you when Dad left.” She stepped away, unable to meet her mother’s eyes. “I was broken up too. Maybe I wanted to partly blame you so I wouldn’t hate him so much.”

  “You don’t hate him. He never stopped loving you, honey. He’s always been a good father.” Christine took a loaf of whole wheat bread out of the refrigerator, Cheddar cheese slices, a tomato, and butter for grilling cheese sandwiches.

  “Yes, I know,” Nicole assured her mother, “but I feel guilty for hanging out with him and Keri when he hurt you so much.”

  “It’s all right.” Her mother shrugged it off. “I’m over it now.”

  “Good. You need to start dating.” Looking at her mom she wondered for the millionth time why her father had ever left. Her mother was amazing and any man would be lucky to have her. “It’s time for you to move on.”

  “I am moving on, honey. This new business is really exciting, but it’s also going to be a ton of work.”

  “I’m sure you’ll turn it into a mega success, Mom, but keep your eyes open. After all, it is a dating service. Hopefully, you’ll find someone for yourself.”

  Her mother laughed. “Maybe one day, but the last thing I have time for now is a romance. I’ll be too busy finding it for everyone else.”

  Nicole chewed her bottom lip. “Mom? Do you need any help at Champagne? I’m sick of my job and the dating service does sound kind of fun.”

  Her mother put her hand on her hip and sighed. “I was really hoping you might go back to school. You still need twenty credits to get your bachelor’s.”

  “I know, and I will. I was thinking of doing the on-line program so that I can still work. Mom, I need a job. I’m going to be twenty-five in a few months, and I’ve been out on my own for several years. I can’t go back to living here and being a student. It would drive us both crazy.”

  “You might be right, but do you think you can do both?”

  “I do. I’m certain of it.” Nicole lifted her chin. “I’m more mature now and I don’t want to be in a dead-end job for the rest of my life. I want to be successful like you.”

  “That’s real sweet, honey, and I’m proud of you. But you can be so much better than me. You can be anything you want.”

  “I don’t know what that is. So until I figure it out, can you use me at Champagne? I don’t care what I do. Maybe I can design some nice advertising folders or something.”

  “I like that idea. Perhaps you could also maintain our web page and take over the marketing.” Her mother put the grilled cheese sandwiches on the table, poured them both a glass of skim milk and sat down next to her. They ate in silence, both lost in their own thoughts.

  ***

  The emergency room doctor at the Florence hospital wanted to give Anne an electrocardiogram to see what was causing her palpitations and dizzy spells. She was so grateful to have Salvatore with her. Not only because of the language barrier, but also because she was frightened and it was comforting to have him near.

  Her crazy heart had continued galloping like a herd of buffalo, but at least the pain had lessened. Yet here she was, in Florence with a charming man, and she had to go and have heart trouble. Where was the justice in that?

  She looked at the white squares in the ceiling above her, as if her husband were up there looking down. Charlie? If it’s you making trouble for me, I’m going to be very mad. I wasn’t going to do anything that you wouldn’t have approved of. At least I don’t think I was. And besides, you’re dead. You can’t expect me to turn into a nun.

  She wasn’t sure, but she thought the lights flickered in reply. Sometime later, a doctor came into the room. He wasn’t the emergency room doctor, and Anne suspected he might be a cardiologist. His first words confirmed that. He introduced himself as Dr. Rossini and told her in perfect English that he recommended Anne stay in the hospital for observation. He wanted to run more test because the ECG was inconclusive.

  “What do you think is wrong with me?” Anne asked.

  “The test we did measures the electrical activity of your heart. It helps rule out any serious heart rhythm disturbances. Since you are not having heart palpitations right now, we would like you to wear a Holter monitor for the next few days after your release.”

  “Well, since it’s not serious, I won’t be staying.”

  The doctor ignored her comment. “The monitor is a portable ECG. This will give us a chance to see the ECG pattern when you are having the symptoms.”

  “I understand your concern, doctor, but I can’t do that. You see, I am leaving Florence this morning.”

  What time was it? she suddenly wondered. She was in a hospital gown and her watch was in her handbag. She looked at Salvatore.

  “Do you know what time it is?”

  Salvatore glanced at his watch. “Five-thirty. But if the doctor thinks you should stay, then really, Anne, you must do what he says.”

  Anne bolted upright on the bed. “No, no. I have to leave now. Pronto.”

  She stood up, making sure to keep the back of her gown closed. She knew she wasn’t nearly as attractive in this ugly blue gown as she had been in her new clothes. Now, instead of feeling vibrant and sexy, she just felt old.

  “My friends will be frantic if I’m not there. They knew I was going out with you, and if I miss the bus, well, they will fear the worst, I’m afraid.” She shot Salvatore a glance, as if to say, let’s move it. “I must go now. As long as I’m not having a heart attack, I can’t stay. May I please have my clothes?”

  “You may,” the doctor answered, “but I think it is more important that we run a few more tests. You don’t need the monitor if you’re not going to be here in Florence, but to be safe we need to check on a few other things. It is possible that you have tachycardia originating in the atria.”

  “What does that mean?” Anne asked with genuine fear in her voice.

  The doctor smiled kindly. “It’s arrhythmias. You’ve heard of that? Yes, good. It is very common among people after the age of sixty, especially if you have high blood pressure. Yours was not dangerously high, but higher than it should be. Were you doing anything tonight to make your heart beat so wildly? Any stimulants of any kind?”

  “No, no. We were only dancing. And we had some wine.”

  “Ah, yes. Dancing and wine. Very nice, but not so nice for the atria.”

  Anne looked at Salvatore, and then at her wrist where her watch should be. “Forget my atria, doctor. I promise to take it easy for the rest of the trip. Now, I really must go.”

  “If you must.” The doctor didn’t look pleased, but he apparently knew not to argue with a stubborn old woman on a bus tour. “I can give you something to take if you get those palpitations again. It should be good for the trip, but please see your health care provider when you get home to America.”

  “You have medication for this? Why didn’t you tell me before?” She flapped her hands at Salvatore. “My clothes. Hurry. I don’t want to be late for the bus and have everyone worry.”

  Twenty minutes later, she and Salvatore were
in the back of a cab, wheezing through the sleepy, early morning traffic, and Anne’s heart was racing, only for good reason this time.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The following morning Christine was in her office bright and early. Jenny and Helga wouldn’t be in for another hour, so she fixed herself a cup of coffee and sat down at her desk to enjoy the first sip of the day.

  It tasted strong and rich, with no bitterness. She took out her blueberry bagel, spread a little low-fat cream cheese on it, and took a couple of bites before putting it aside. She had a couple of important calls to make and didn’t want to waste a second.

  The first call was to her lawyer asking him to draw up a contract for Derek to sign. She asked him to fax it to her when it was done. While she waited, she poured herself another cup of coffee and ate a little more of her bagel, before putting it aside. She wanted to keep off the pounds she’d lost since her divorce, and since she rarely had time to exercise, she needed to eat less.

  She liked the way her clothes fit now, and her new silhouette. She was a long cry from being model thin, but for her age she really had little to complain about.

  Speaking of models, she needed to call Derek and let him know that she’d called the photo agency yesterday and set up an appointment for him to come in. She looked up Derek’s cell number and picked up the phone.

  He answered right away. “Hello, Chris,” he said. “What’s up?”

  Nobody called her Chris, but she let it go. She thought he sounded surprised and happy to hear from her, and she didn’t want to blow it over something as silly as an abbreviated name. “I’m just wondering when you’d like to come by the office and sign a contract my lawyer’s drawing up. We also lined up an agency to take some professional pictures and get this campaign rolling.”

  “Great. I’m so excited,” he said in a high girly voice.