Hepburn's Necklace

by Jan Moran

  Now in her room at the pensione, Ruby packed the last of her few souvenirs into the suitcase.

  “What about your clothes in the closet?” Niccolò asked.

  “I’m leaving my old clothes here for the maid,” Ruby said. “She wants them. I’m only taking what I bought here.” She loved the vivid colors and had new dresses in sunny yellow, warm coral, and bright turquoise. She ran her hands over the patterned silk and lightweight wool scarves she could scarcely afford but couldn’t bear to pass up.

  “This is quite a lot,” Niccolò said, struggling to close her suitcase.

  “You should see what Audrey is taking home,” Ruby said. The actress had fallen in love with her Edith Head-designed, Roman Holiday wardrobe. She’d asked if she could keep the clothes after filming. Paramount Studios agreed, and Audrey was thrilled. Someday, Ruby decided she would have such a wardrobe, too, complete with matching shoes and handbags and jewelry.

  But more than the clothes or souvenirs, Ruby knew that she had won the ultimate prize in Italy.

  Her Niccolò. She stole a kiss from him. “I’m luckier, though. I get to take you home.”

  Niccolò snapped the luggage clasp. “I wish I could sail with you.” He swept her into his arms and buried his face in her hair. “I will miss all of you—the way your skin smells, your hair, your eyes, but most of all…” He slid his finger under her chin. “Your sweet, sweet kisses, amore mio.”

  His kisses were another new language to her. At times, soft and gentle, then teasing, and later, ravishingly hungry. She’d never known there were so many different ways to kiss. But then, she’d never been kissed until Italy. Her parents shared quick smacks that were nothing like this.

  Would they understand how much she loved him? Ruby prayed they would. Reluctantly, she pulled away from Niccolò’s embrace. “We should go. I can’t miss this ship.”

  “I wish you would,” Niccolò said, teasing her again.

  Or is he? The anguish in his eyes betrayed the lightness of his tone.

  Blinking back tears that had threatened since she woke this morning, Ruby picked up her purse and sighed heavily. “It’s time.”

  “Chin up,” Niccolò said, kissing her forehead. He lifted her suitcase from the bed. Instead of returning home, he’d told her that he would stay with a friend and gave her the address where she could write to him. In turn, she’d written down her Aunt Vivienne’s address and telephone number in Hollywood.

  Ruby looked back at the little room they’d shared, where’d they been so happy these last weeks. “I hate to leave our honeymoon haven.”

  “It’s been sweet,” Niccolò said. “And it will be even sweeter when I see you soon in Hollywood.”

  “You will come?” Ruby’s voice hitched as she spoke. She needed his assurance, just once more.

  Niccolò took her hand, kissed it, and pressed it against his chest. “You live in my heart. How could I stay away?”

  Once they arrived at the crowded port of Civitavecchia near Rome, Ruby stared at the grand ocean liner that stretched before them, gleaming in the sunshine, its funnels painted in colors of the Italian flag—green, white, and red. Her chest tightened. The sight of the ship and the smell of the sea filled her with a frisson of foreboding. She worried that their separation might be longer than either of them realized.

  Passengers who had already boarded were waving at loved ones from the ship. Those left behind were calling out and waving back. Ruby and Niccolò cut through the crowd. They didn’t have much time left.

  Ruby gripped her passport and the ticket she’d purchased. As they neared the check-in area, her pulse quickened. Throwing her arms around him, she swallowed hard to suppress the tears that threatened to overtake her. “I can’t stand to be separated for very long.”

  “Neither can I, my love.” Niccolò wrapped his arms around her. “Take care of your family. I will manage, and I will see you as soon as I can.”

  Ruby looked up at the immense ship. She had already crossed the Atlantic once. Instead of the excitement that had filled her, a sense of loss consumed her now. Despite their promises to one another, she couldn’t help but wonder if this were all a lovely mirage, and soon she’d wake in Texas as before, like Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz in Kansas.

  As a man’s voice on a loudspeaker rang out, Niccolò lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Cuore mio, they’re calling for you.”

  Ruby and Niccolò had lingered all morning, putting off the inevitable. But now, people in uniforms were signaling for final passengers to board.

  This is it. As her throat constricted, Ruby swung around to Niccolò. In desperation, she ran her hands over his hair and face, memorizing everything about him. The high cut of his cheekbones, the full curve of his lips. Endless blue eyes that reflect the heavens. The angle of his shoulders, the touch of his skin. A lingering aroma of lemon-infused olive oil soap, mixing with his natural scent. As he peppered her face with kisses, she rested her head against his chest, listening to a heart that pounded in sync with hers.

  Tears slipped from her eyes. Ruby measured their last moments together as a goldsmith weighs precious gold shavings. She wished she could have stayed with Niccolò, but she had to return for work. Yet, her heart would remain in Rome in the care of her husband.

  Niccolò crushed her to him, and Ruby gasped, finding his lips with hers for a kiss that would have to sustain them. His cheeks were damp with tears, too. They struggled to cry out the words they needed to say.

  “Cuore mio…anima mia. Quanto ti amo,” Niccolò murmured.

  “You are everything to me. Cuore mio, I love you, too,” Ruby whispered, before dissolving with tears.

  Niccolò stepped back from her and slid a finger under her chin to tilt it up. Chin up. Blinking hard, she turned away from him.

  After boarding, Ruby wedged her way through the crushing crowd on the deck until she reached the railing. Tenting her hand above her eyes, she scanned the crowd.

  There, below her, stood Niccolò, waving madly.

  Waving back, she resolved that, no matter what, they would be together again.

  Chapter 20

  Lago di Como, 2010

  * * *

  “Let’s position the love seat between the two stone urns,” Ariana said, directing Livia and Emilio. “Pink geraniums spilling from those urns would contrast well with blue cushions in the seating area.” She put a finger to her chin, considering the patio furniture groupings on the terrace.

  Ruby had given her carte blanche to design the exterior space, and Ariana was thoroughly enjoying herself. The blue lake beyond the terrace and the white-capped mountains as a majestic backdrop set a serene tableau.

  She hadn’t realized how much she needed this respite. Ariana’s distress over Phillip was fading in the bright sunlight that beamed into her room every morning as if it were a serving of happiness to begin the day.

  Ariana wished she could stay here with her aunt, yet the responsible action would be to return to Los Angeles; it was, after all, her home, and she needed to work as long as she could. Yet, the shop space next to the café intrigued her. Had Ruby filled her head with a fantasy, or could Ariana make a go of a design studio and boutique? That was what she’d studied, though she wondered if she could pull it off here. She didn’t know many people, nor did she know the rules and regulations of the region.

  As Ariana was thinking, her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out. The name she’d been dreading appeared on the screen.

  Kingsley. Her boss.

  She hesitated for a moment, calculating the time difference. It was awfully late in Los Angeles. Maybe it was an emergency.

  “Hello?”

  “There’s the runaway bride,” he said sarcastically. “Aren’t you the clever one?”

  Ariana gritted her teeth. “Hi, Kingsley. Guess you heard. Well, what can I help you with?”

  “I’m wondering what’s happened to one of my top costume designers.”

  K
ingsley’s words were slightly slurred. He’d been drinking. At the office, people feared his drunk calls. Signaling Livia, she stepped to the edge of the terrace. “Enjoying a much needed mental health trip.”

  “Ariana, don’t be silly.”

  Biting her lip, Ariana braced herself against his condescending attitude.

  “You’ve lied to me,” Kingsley said. “You took time off for a honeymoon. Not a jaunt around the globe.”

  “How do you know where I am?” She pressed her lips together in consternation. Phillip must have spread the news.

  “I know where you should be. And that’s at your desk. I expect you here on Monday.”

  “That’s impossible.”

  Kingsley’s silence was fraught with threat. “Oh, is it?” he finally said.

  “I’ll check flights,” Ariana said. He made her feel like a child playing hooky from school. But why? She was a grown woman. An experienced professional.

  And Kingsley was a master manipulator and intimidator.

  “I knew you’d come around,” he said, sounding conciliatory. “I can always count on you. But don’t ever test me again.”

  In a few months, she would have a baby. A child who would depend on her protection against the Kingsleys and bullies of the world.

  Kingsley wrapped up the conversation now, saying, “I’ll see you on Mon—”

  “No, you won’t.” Ariana sucked in a breath.

  Silence.

  “I’m taking the time I arranged,” she said in a strong voice. “The time I’ve more than earned.”

  “You know I hate it when people renege on their promise.”

  Ariana squeezed her eyes. Did she dare jump from the professional ledge of safety? Or stay and take another heaping of boss abuse?

  “I won’t stand for this, Ariana.”

  She gulped a breath of courage. “Kingsley, consider this my notice of resignation.”

  A sneering chuckle erupted in Ariana’s ear, followed by a few choice expletives. She held the phone away. But not far enough to hear Kingsley’s parting shot.

  “Good. Saved me the trouble of firing you.”

  Click.

  Ariana stood in stunned silence.

  “Darling?” Ruby’s voice floated to her across the terrace. “Are you okay?”

  Staring at the phone, Ariana turned around. “I just threw away my livelihood.”

  As Ruby crossed the terrace, her expression warmed with empathy and relief. “Thank goodness. Kingsley is a vile little man. Now you’re free. You can start to have some fun.” She wrapped her arms around Ariana.

  Her heart hammering over what she’d just done, Ariana leaned her head against her aunt’s shoulder. She was reeling in disbelief. “What’s wrong with me? I’m acting crazy. Do pregnancy hormones do this?”

  “You’re waking up to life’s possibilities.” Ruby took her hand. “You have nothing to be afraid of. Come on, let’s jump into the deep end of life.”

  “How?” Ariana asked, bewildered at the irresponsibility of her action. She was the calm, orderly one who planned ahead. Panic swiftly set in, and she began to tremble.

  “Lease that space before someone else gets it,” Ruby said. “You have a lot of work to do now.”

  Ariana swept a hand across her face. “It’s intriguing, but I don’t know the first thing about starting a shop in Italy.”

  “If only you knew someone who had a business here,” Ruby said pointedly.

  “There’s Lorenzo, I suppose,” Ariana said. The café owner might be handsome and charming, but she wasn’t attracted to him like she was to Alessandro. Lorenzo was the safe choice. After all, he was old enough to be her father.

  Ruby arched an eyebrow.

  Ariana couldn’t fool Ruby. “Or maybe Alessandro.” Even mentioning his name quickened her heartbeat. Why hadn’t she ever felt this for Phillip? Because he wasn’t the one, a little voice inside of her insisted. But her intense attraction to Alessandro wasn’t normal either. Maybe it was merely raging hormones.

  “Shall I call him for you?” Ruby asked.

  “No, I will,” Ariana replied, lifting her chin. This wasn’t the time to let emotions get in the way. She had to take action, and at least explore the opportunity of a shop because she’d just lost her source of income. Ariana wouldn’t ask her mother for help—Mari would have enough I told you so’s as it was. Ruby would offer, but Ariana wanted to show that she could succeed on her terms. She had skills, and it was time to put them to use.

  Ariana’s head was whirling with what she needed to do. And fast.

  “You’ve had a shock,” Ruby said. “Let’s sit down. Livia just made fresh juice from fruit harvested from our overgrown orchard. As it turns out, the oranges are naturally sweet. And good for you.”

  Ariana nodded. She knew she had to take better care of herself.

  Ruby asked Livia to bring out a pitcher of juice and glasses. Ariana eased into one of the cushioned chairs they had just arranged.

  “I like this furniture grouping,” Ruby said. “We have a clear view of the lake, framed by pink bougainvillea.”

  “That was the idea,” Ariana said. Her phone buzzed with a message, and she frowned at it.

  Ruby sipped her juice. “Who is it, dear?”

  “It’s a message from Phillip. He says, ‘Did you see Mom’s email?’” She tapped a message. I’m busy. Haven’t checked.

  Another message appeared. She wants an answer now. Like I told you before, I don’t care what you decide.

  Ariana frowned and checked her email on her phone. “Listen to this. Phillip’s mother says she is devastated that Phillip is already seeing someone else, but she still wants to be in her first grandchild’s life.” She looked up.

  “Even though Phillip denies it’s his child?” Ruby asked. “Interesting. And just what does she propose?”

  “She’s suggesting that she hire a nanny for me to take care of the baby.”

  “Generous,” Ruby said cautiously.

  “At her house while I work.”

  Ruby ran her fingers along the bright Venetian-glass necklace she wore. “Don’t they live in Santa Barbara?”

  Ariana read the rest of the email. “Seems I’d be welcome to pick the baby up on Friday night or Saturday morning for the weekends.” She shook her head. “It’s ironic. If I hadn’t quit my job, I might have considered this.”

  Ruby’s eyes flashed with sudden anger. “Absolutely not. That woman aims to take over your child. Before long, she’d file for custody.”

  “I don’t think she would do that,” Ariana said. Or would she?

  “Never leave your child.” Ruby’s voice rang out like a command. She was visibly upset. “You don’t know how easy it is to lose your baby.”

  “It’s okay,” Ariana said, smoothing a hand onto Ruby’s trembling shoulder. It wasn’t like her aunt to jump to such a conclusion. Though, could she be right? A chill coursed through Ariana. “I’ll tell her I’m not interested, but I’ll thank her.”

  “Just know this,” Ruby said, jabbing her finger. “That woman is not acting magnanimously. I met her at the chapel, and I can smell a charade.”

  Ariana tapped a quick reply and turned off her phone. She wouldn’t accept the offer, but she was puzzled by Ruby’s intense reaction. Anger, but also fear. She’d never seen her aunt like this.

  * * *

  Ariana watched while Alessandro walked the length of the shop. Lorenzo and Cesare looked on. The shop space was perfect for what Ariana had in mind. She’d create an airy, welcoming ambiance filled with chic, casual clothing in luxurious fabrics. Thinking about it was exciting, and she couldn’t wait to get started.

  After she’d recovered from quitting her job, Ariana had taken Ruby’s advice and plunged into the deep end. She’d called Alessandro, who’d sounded delighted to hear from her. She began sketching elements of a line to sew samples and take orders. The more she planned and thought, the more excited she grew. But first, she had to nego
tiate a fair price on the lease.

  Alessandro spoke briefly to Cesare.

  “The location is good,” Alessandro said. “Although there is quite a lot of competition in the area.”

  Cesare spread his beefy, manicured hands. “There will always be competitors. You have to be better or different.”

  “The last shop here struggled because the rent was too high,” Alessandro said, raising his hand to an imaginary bar for emphasis.

  Ariana was surprised to hear that, but she didn’t show it. When she’d called Alessandro and mentioned that she was considering leasing this space, he had offered to meet her here.

  “No, no, no,” Cesare said. “The failure was the shopkeeper’s fault. Not enough money for marketing, not enough sales.”

  Alessandro shook his head. “You charged almost double what other landlords do. Who can afford a marketing campaign when the rent is so high? You promised sales from foot traffic would more than cover expenses and give the woman a nice profit.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cesare said.

  “Your last tenant was my friend’s wife,” Alessandro said. “I’m very well aware of what you did.”

  “Supply and demand,” Cesare said, shrugging. “I had many people who wanted to rent this space.”

  Not to be outdone by Alessandro, Lorenzo turned to the landlord and began speaking rapidly in Italian. Ariana couldn’t follow what he was saying, but Cesare’s face was turning red.

  Ariana withdrew a notebook from her purse and flipped it open. After making some calculations, she turned to Alessandro. “Here’s what I was thinking,” she said, tapping on the page. “What do you think?”

  Alessandro considered her numbers. “That’s a good figure. Maybe a little low, but then, he made a lot of money from the last tenant.”