by Jan Moran
“Does it get cold here?”
“We get the chill from the Alps, but it’s not too cold. I like it because it’s quiet then.”
In the distance, Ariana could see an intimate wedding taking place. The couple was holding hands, and the bride’s dress was a simple, beautifully fitted, strappy white silk sheath that fell to the woman’s ankles. Judging from the couple’s body language, they were unquestionably in love. When was the last time she’d gazed at Phillip like that? She glanced away.
“This is a popular venue for weddings,” Alessandro said.
“Where did you get married?” As soon as the words left her mouth, Ariana wished she could take them back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up difficult memories.”
“Not at all. That was one of the happiest days of my life.”
“Did you meet her here?”
“You would think, no?” He shook his head. “We knew many of the same people. But we met when we were both attending university in Roma.” A wistful look crossed his face. “It’s interesting to recall the first day you met someone, not realizing the role they would play in your life. Or you in theirs.”
Ariana enjoyed listening to him. “You sound like a philosopher.”
He grinned. “I studied philosophy and literature.”
“And yet, you manufacture silk. How do you reconcile being a merchant with philosophy?”
“I love what I do,” he said. “First, we employ people. Second, what we do is a beautiful, highly creative craft. We produce the most sumptuous textiles that people will cherish, often for generations. Every day I’m privileged to share excellence, joy, and happiness with the world.” He paused. “How do you share your unique talents?”
Ariana was taken aback by that question. “I haven’t really thought about it. I suppose the costumes I design for movies and television are part of the pleasure that people experience when they watch the production.”
“And does that give you joy, too?”
“It did in the beginning,” Ariana said thoughtfully. “But I have a boss who has created such a toxic environment that I dread going to work every day. If it weren’t for my creative work, I’d shrivel and die from it.”
Alessandro looked at her with alarm. “Ariana, forgive me. I hardly know you, but you must leave that job. I can see the hurt it causes you in your eyes. Stay here with your aunt for a while. Decide how you will change your life. Believe me, life is shorter than we realize.”
Alessandro gripped her hand, which sent another thrill through her. Was it merely hormones that were causing this strange effect?
Still, Ariana let her hand remain in his. “You’ve never been in a position where you had to work at a demanding job for a living.”
“Ah, you don’t know me very well,” Alessandro said. “After university, I worked as a management consultant in Rome and Milan. I traveled all the time. Hardly ever saw my wife, who was also working and looking after our first child.” He shook his head. “We made money, but it was no way to live.”
“What brought you back here?”
“My father passed away. It was time for my sister Paolina and me to make a decision. We could sell the silk factory, or hire a manager, or move home and run it ourselves. We did the latter.”
“Are you happy with that choice?”
“I wish I’d returned here long ago. Those were harried, wasted years.” He shook his head. “Seize the opportunity to change your life. You’re a beautiful woman who should be living the life you want.”
Ariana was taken aback by his words. He was so direct and spoke with such passion. “Are you flirting with me?”
“Flirting?” For a moment, he looked confused. “I see beauty in your soul but sadness in your eyes. You must live a life that is true to your heart. An authentic life.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. “And if I were to flirt with you, you would not have to ask.”
“Wow.” Ariana laughed lightly. She hardly knew how to respond. She’d never met a man like Alessandro.
He paused by a garden of fanciful topiaries. Stepping closer to Ariana, he draped an arm over her shoulder. “Relax. I will make no demands on you. I only want to see your broken heart healed.” He smiled down at her. “I know what that is like.”
Ariana gulped back a sudden cry. Was she that transparent? She shook her head. “Phillip—my fiancé—didn’t break my heart. I broke my heart over him. Since I’ve been here, I realized I wanted him to be something he wasn’t capable of being.” She tilted her head. “Ruby once told me an adage about teaching a pig to sing. You’ll only waste your time and frustrate the pig.”
Alessandro threw his head back and laughed. “That’s funny. But, so true.” He smiled and held her for a moment, and then, he took her hand.
Ariana still felt the warmth of his arm around her. His embrace had been comforting—there was nothing overtly sexual about it. Yet her body had responded as if she’d found water in an arid desert.
It had to be the hormones.
They moved on through aromatic gardens brimming with roses and lilies and hydrangeas. Ariana walked hand-in-hand beside him as if that were the most natural thing to do. She’d only just met him, yet she felt comfortable with him. And so much more that she couldn’t quite name yet.
They paused, taking in the view of Villa d’Este that stretched before them.
“I’m truly impressed,” she said, referring not only to the villa and the gardens but also the man beside her.
After winding through the gardens, they arrived at the entry to the grand hotel. Alessandro led her through the entryway, nodding in greeting to those who recognized him.
Ariana took in everything, from the soaring ceilings and glittering chandeliers overhead to the blue-and-yellow patterned carpet underfoot. She gazed through expansive windows to the lake and the villages beyond that hugged the shore.
“To work and live among such beauty is such a privilege,” Ariana said. “Do you ever take it for granted?”
“Never,” he said. “While I was consulting, I was often sent to industrial areas to work with clients. It was then that I realized how fortunate I was to have been born here, and how ingrained the appreciation of natural beauty and preservation of culture was in me.” He gestured around him. “This is my heritage, and I want my children to be able to enjoy it as I have, and my ancestors before me.” He grinned at her. “How about that coffee I promised you?”
“Sounds good now,” Ariana answered with a smile.
Alessandro led her to a terrace restaurant that overlooked the lake, and soon they were seated at a table covered with white linen, polished silver, and sparkling crystal. Pink geraniums and snowy alyssum spilled from flower boxes mounted on the railing.
Ariana thought it was one of the most romantic settings she’d ever seen. Not that this was a romantic interlude. It was just coffee, after all.
As they sipped tiny cups of strong coffee, Alessandro asked about her family, and Ariana told him about her mother and Nana Pat. She shared stories about Ruby and how important her great-aunt had been in her life. For some odd reason, she felt herself opening up to him, trusting him with thoughts she rarely voiced. Or even acknowledged.
“You’re awfully easy to talk to,” she said after telling Alessandro a story about Ruby.
“I like to listen.” He grinned. “And you have a beautiful voice. A strange American accent, but—”
“Hey,” she said, playfully batting him on the shoulder. “I’ll have you know that I’m practicing my Italian. I studied the language in school.”
“Then you must stay here longer to practice,” he said, his eyes dancing.
Ariana rested her chin on her hand. “Maybe I will,” she said. Between urging from both Alessandro and Ruby—and the relaxing beauty of the area—the idea was becoming more appealing. If only she could act on it. She frowned, remembering the vulnerable life forming within her. “On second thought, it’s probably impossible.”
As she gazed into Alessandro’s gold-flecked hazel eyes, she realized he had a point. What if there was a way she hadn’t thought of yet? She smiled. “Are you flirting with me again?”
He grinned and shook his head. “I promise that you’ll know when I do.”
Ariana arched an eyebrow. “Ah…when and not if?”
Now it was Alessandro’s turn to laugh. “I think you’re flirting with me.”
Ariana opened her mouth to deny it, and then she realized that once again, he was correct. Heat rose in her cheeks, and she lowered her eyes, embarrassed.
“And I like it,” he added.
They laughed and continued to talk until Alessandro told her it was time they left. “Paolina took the children to their music lesson after school today, but I don’t want to miss them for supper. And the Breza, the afternoon winds from the south, will probably increase later, making the water quite rough.”
“I understand,” Ariana said, pleased that he was such an attentive father. After the experience with her father—and Phillip’s harsh words—that was critically important to her.
They held hands as they walked back to Alessandro’s yacht. As they sped across the lake toward Villa Fiori, Ariana welcomed the fresh mist on her face and the breeze in her hair. She felt lighter than she had in ages.
To think that this was the beginning of a new relationship was a sweet thought, but it was unrealistic. She was pregnant with Phillip’s child. Although her ex-fiancé wasn’t willing to accept responsibility, she would be holding that child in her arms in just a few months. At her age, this might be her only chance to be a mother. She didn’t want to make any mistakes.
Ariana understood the challenges ahead. She recalled that when she was thirteen, she’d accused her mother of driving away her father and rendering her fatherless. She’d never forgotten the profound hurt on her mother’s usually stern face. Now that her family history was repeating itself, Ariana regretted her actions.
Ariana let her gaze rest on Alessandro, whose strong profile nearly took her breath away. Yet, he had his responsibilities, and she had hers. And even if she found a way to stay, he didn’t need the responsibility of another’s man’s child.
Smiling wistfully, Ariana thought of how they might help each other mend their broken hearts through the occasional coffee and easy banter. She would wait to tell him she was pregnant because it would be no concern of his. They could enjoy each other’s company, but that was all.
Though the thought saddened her, that was her reality.
Chapter 17
Rome, 1952
* * *
The cast and crew had just returned from the mid-August break for the Ferragosto holiday. When Ruby finished her stand-in tasks for the director for lighting and camera angles, she left the set. Nearby, she saw Audrey shuffling cards, waiting for her call. Her dark eyes lit with delight when she saw Ruby.
“You looked so lovely up there, and I appreciate your patience,” Audrey said. Today, they wore the same costume—a light-weight blouse and skirt.
“I’m learning so much,” Ruby said. “It’s exciting.”
“I know you’re going to be a famous star someday,” Audrey said, setting the playing cards aside. She picked up a fan to alleviate the blistering heat. “And how was your holiday?”
Ruby perched in a canvas chair next to her. “We went to Lake Como.”
“We?” Audrey’s voice dropped to a whisper. “You mean, you and Niccolò?”
“We had such a wonderful time,” Ruby said, nodding. She would love to tell Audrey that she and Niccolò had married, but she’d promised her new husband that they would inform his parents first.
This weekend.
In the meantime, Niccolò was staying with her in her room at the pensione. He’d told his mother he was staying with a friend near the filming locations.
Audrey’s gaze slid to Ruby’s neck. “The necklace,” she exclaimed. “Did it break?”
“It comes apart, remember?” Ruby touched the silver pendant. She’d tucked it beneath her costume for the scene, but it had slipped out now. She smiled. “Niccolò is wearing the other half.” She was bursting to tell Audrey about their wedding, but she couldn’t.
Audrey’s eyes widened. “You’re going steady. That’s what they call it in America, right?”
“Actually, it’s more than that,” Ruby said, tempted to confide in her.
Audrey took her by the shoulders. “You’re engaged!”
Laughing, Ruby could only shrug off her guesses. She’d promised Niccolò.
“I knew that necklace would bring you luck,” Audrey said, hugging her.
“You have no idea how much luck,” Ruby replied.
Audrey’s eyes flashed with delight. “Oh, don’t tell me that you…”
“I can’t, not yet. I promised Niccolò.”
“I want to hear all about it as soon as possible,” Audrey said, her eyes sparkling with delight. “And I want to come to your wedding.”
At that moment, Mr. Wyler called for Audrey, who scooted off the canvas chair with her name on it and hurried to her spot.
Ruby stayed to watch the principal actors go through the scene several times. She studied how Mr. Wyler orchestrated each scene, the way the actors delivered their lines, and what the director asked from them. Ruby rested her chin in her hand, analyzing everything on the set.
Her life was perfect. She was doing what she adored with the man she loved. Ruby felt like the luckiest woman in the world.
The week of filming flew by, and Niccolò promised his parents that they would join them for supper on Friday.
After the end of filming on Friday, Niccolò walked with Ruby to her pensione. He squeezed her hand. “I can’t wait to tell my parents about us tonight. They’re going to be so happy.”
Not wanting to jinx the evening, Ruby smiled. But inside, a whirl of anxiety churned. She couldn’t help but feel that his parents might not be as thrilled as Niccolò thought.
* * *
Later that evening, Ruby sat beside Niccolò at a table in his parent’s kitchen, clutching his hand.
“Niccolò, would you hand me a knife for the parsley?” Carolina asked as she adjusted a flame on the stove. The sweet aroma of sautéed garlic filled the air.
Niccolò sprang to help. Niccolò had also chopped garlic, and Ruby had grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese. “Here you are, Mamma.”
Carolina was preparing artichokes for carciofi alla Romana and pancetta for spaghetti alla carbonara. She quickly chopped a handful of parsley.
Glancing back at Ruby, Carolina smiled. “I love having you two in the kitchen. You’re welcome here anytime, Ruby.”
“I’d like that,” Ruby said. She loved being part of this family. Carolina was already treating her like a daughter, fussing over her and telling her she should eat more.
Niccolò whispered to Ruby and took her hand. He couldn’t keep their secret a moment longer. They had planned to tell his parents after supper, but Niccolò was too excited to wait.
“Mamma, Papà, please sit down for a moment,” Niccolò began, smiling at Ruby. “We have important news to share.”
Wiping her hands, Carolina sat down, tugging her husband, Dante, into the chair beside her. “What is it, Niccolò?”
Ruby’s pulse was pounding so hard she pressed a finger against her temple to hide the vein that throbbed whenever she was nervous. She was so anxious she could hardly breathe.
Niccolò squeezed her hand and faced his parents. “When Ruby and I went to Lago di Como, we decided that we wanted to spend the rest of our lives together.”
Carolina beamed at her son. “You want to get married?”
Ruby noticed that Dante looked less enthusiastic. She slid her free hand under the table and fidgeted with her cotton skirt.
A wondrous sm
ile wreathed Niccolò’s face. “We couldn’t wait. The priest at the church in Varenna married us.”
Carolina exclaimed. “Already?” She pressed a hand to her throat, clearly conflicted. “I’m happy for you, I am, but you could have had such a beautiful wedding here.”
“It was beautiful, Mamma,” Niccolò said, rising to hug his mother. “Think of how much money we saved, eh, Papà? For Valeria’s wedding. You know she wants a big wedding.”
Dante nodded reluctantly. “So, you did this without speaking to your family first.” Gesturing with his hand, he shook his head. “Young people. I don’t understand.”
His wife jabbed him. “We are happy for them, Dante. We have a new daughter in our family.” Carolina held out her arms to Ruby.
Ruby fell into Carolina’s tearful embrace. Niccolò’s father followed with a perfunctory hug. Ruby knew he was disappointed, but he seemed to accept their marriage. Would her parents feel the same way? Just thinking about them made her nervous.
“We will have a huge party,” Carolina said, her eyes lighting with excitement. “And I know the perfect flat for you. A friend is moving soon. But of course, you’ll stay here until then.”
“Wait,” Niccolò said, raising his hand. “There’s more.”
Ruby dreaded what he was about to say. Seated at the table again, she wound her hemline around her fingers and rocked slightly.
Niccolò beamed with excitement. “I’m going to Hollywood with Ruby. Her agent will represent me for movies.” He swept his arm around Ruby. “This will be the beginning of our new life in America.”
Carolina’s face crumpled with sadness, and Dante took her hand. “That is a surprise,” he said, stunned. In their eyes, their love and concern for Niccolò were evident. “We planned that you would come into the business with me. Finding new artists, building their careers with collectors. You will be very good at that.”