Hepburn's Necklace

by Jan Moran

“That was terrible,” Ariana said, keeping her voice low. “I hate to see people driven out of business by greed.”

  Alessandro leaned closer and whispered. “Between us, my friends can well afford it. I think it was more of a lark to her, and she grew tired of the responsibility. Still, the rent was far too high.”

  “I don’t have that luxury.” Ariana cleared her throat. “Excuse me. I have an offer to make.”

  Lorenzo and Cesare turned toward her, and Ariana named her figure, along with improvements she would need.

  Cesare’s face grew even redder. “At that price, you take food from my children’s mouths.”

  Lorenzo chuckled. “Your children are grown and skiing at St. Mortiz, Cesare.”

  Ariana rolled her eyes. She’d also seen the landlord arrive in an expensive new car. “Or you can leave the shop vacant,” she said straightforwardly. “But I won’t risk my finances because my rent is too high relative to my revenue. Especially in the beginning, as I build my clientele. Like your previous tenant, I’ll need a marketing budget, too.”

  Ariana could feel Alessandro’s eyes on her. Glancing at him, she detected his approval. Ariana was good with budgets and projections because that had been part of her responsibility at the studio.

  “Tough American woman,” Cesare sputtered.

  “I’m realistic,” Ariana shot back. She rather enjoyed being called tough, because the alternative was to be taken advantage of. As a woman, she understood the coded meaning of the landlord’s words all too well. With a man, it was a negotiation. With a woman, she was a—

  “That’s impossible,” Cesare said with a huff.

  “Then, I’m finished here.” Ariana turned to leave. She was one step from the door when Cesare called her back.

  Acting considerably less haughty, Cesare said, “If we keep this deal between us, you can have the space at that price.”

  Ariana named her move-in date. She’d need time to create her line and buy other inventory, as well as design the space.

  Cesare agreed, and they shook hands. He promised to send the lease agreement for her to review.

  After Ariana left with Alessandro, he suggested they walk along the water’s edge by the mulberry trees. “I have a proposition for you,” he said.

  “And what might that be?”

  “Will you come to supper at my home tonight?” Alessandro asked. “With the children and me,” he quickly added. “Sometimes we play games after we eat or Sandro and Carmela play outside. Then I read to them and hope they go to sleep without too much fuss. After they go to sleep, we could have a glass of wine or limoncello.”

  This wasn’t a date, Ariana noted. Just two people sharing an evening as friends. And why not? She enjoyed sharing ideas with Alessandro. She could ask him how he managed as a single parent, too—not that she was ready to confide in him.

  “I’d like that,” she said. And maybe if she spent more time around him, the strange, fluttery feeling in her chest would go away. That was it. She just needed to get used to him.

  * * *

  “I can’t believe I made it.” Ariana pulled into a cypress-lined drive that led to a home built of stone. As she turned off the ignition, she exhaled with relief.

  Although she’d been studying street signs and was fairly confident that she could navigate the roads, she hadn’t been prepared for the narrow, twisty lanes that hugged the hillsides above the lake. The journey had proved harrowing, especially since residents whipped around curves with ease.

  That evening, Ariana had dared to drive the car that Ruby had bought, even though Alessandro had offered to pick her up and have a ride-share service take her home. He couldn’t leave the children, who had been staying with Paolina earlier. His sister and her husband had plans for the evening that they couldn’t change. Ariana had assured him that she would be fine. She needed to learn her way around anyway.

  Ariana looped a bag over her arm. She’d tucked a bottle of wine and a tin of chocolate chip cookies that she’d quickly baked into the bag. When Ariana told Ruby where she was going, she noted the quiet approval on Ruby’s face, even though Ariana assured her they were only friends.

  As she stepped from the car, Sandro and Carmela bolted from the house to greet her. They threw their arms around her.

  Alessandro chuckled. “The children were so excited when I told them you were joining us for supper tonight.”

  As Alessandro leaned in and greeted Ariana with a pleasant kiss on each cheek, she detected a warm, slightly spicy scent he wore. His masculine aroma caught her off guard and drew her in. Quickly, she stepped back, feeling a little shaken.

  “I brought a treat for the kids,” Ariana said, holding up the bag with chocolate chip cookies. She opened it to let the children see inside, and then she lifted the lid of the cookie tin.

  The children’s eyes grew wide. “Cioccolato,” they cried.

  “Not before we eat,” Alessandro said, laughing. “But this looks delicious,” he added with surprise. “You bake?”

  “A little, but I enjoy it.”

  When Ariana had stayed at Ruby’s home in Palm Springs on school breaks, Stefano taught her how to make cookies and quick breads. That had been a long time ago, and the oven in the kitchen at Villa Fiori was different. The measuring cups were in metric measurements, too. Fortunately, she found a cups-to-milliliter conversion chart on a baking site, and Livia helped her watch the oven so the cookies weren’t overdone.

  “I’m thinking about taking a cooking class,” Ariana said. “I’d like to learn some Italian specialties.”

  Alessandro’s face lit with a smile. “If you don’t mind, I could join you. I can share some recipes, too.” Gesturing toward his children, he said, “I have to perform for this audience every evening.”

  Looking at the children’s eager faces, she said, “I think that would be fun.”

  “Then you can be my sous chef tonight,” he said. “I’m running late with supper because this one had a little accident.” Alessandro scooped up Sandro with one arm and tucked the boy to his side. “He tumbled off his bicycle and scraped his knees.”

  Sandro giggled and kicked his legs. Little bandages covered both knees.

  “I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Ariana said to Sandro, before realizing he probably couldn’t understand her. She repeated herself in her basic Italian, and Sandro beamed at her.

  Carmela tugged on Ariana’s cotton turquoise sundress. Ariana knelt to the little five-year-old’s height. “Ciao, come stai?”

  The little girl beamed shyly at Ariana, hiding behind a wave of unruly curls that partly obscured her face. “Bene.”

  Gently, Ariana lifted Carmela’s tangled hair from her eyes. “Bene. Me, too.”

  “I’m afraid I’m not very good with girl’s hair,” Alessandro said. “I had it pulled back, but I don’t know what happened to the clips. They are so tiny, and in my hands, they’re hard to handle.”

  “I can help,” Ariana said, smoothing her hand over Carmela’s soft hair. She stood and took the little girl’s small hand in hers.

  Calmly, Carmela gazed up at her.

  Alessandro stared at them for a moment. “I think she’s in awe of you. I haven’t seen her this quiet in a long time.” Flipping Sandro onto the ground, he took the boy’s hand, and they started toward the house.

  Ariana stepped inside and looked around. It was a cozy family home, even though the rooms were quite large. The tiled floors and rugs and artwork in warm colors brought life to every room. In various patterns and vivid colors, sumptuous silk pillows brightened an over-stuffed sofa, and dolls and trucks had been pushed haphazardly into a corner.

  “This way, Sandro.” Alessandro took it all in stride, herding the rambunctious seven-year-old into the large kitchen, where a rustic table anchored the space that opened onto an airy, plant-filled terrace.

  Immediately, Ariana felt at home. Surrounding a stove and a deep sink were tiles with hand-painted herbs sprinkled among the other i
vory-colored tiles. Copper pots hung from a rack above, and children’s artwork covered a large corkboard at one end of the kitchen.

  Ariana dug into her purse and pulled out an elastic band. “Where’s a brush for Carmela?”

  “In her room. She’ll show you.” Alessandro said a few words to Carmela, and the little girl took Ariana’s hand.

  Ariana followed Carmela into a bedroom decorated in a rainbow of colors. A flurry of stuffed animals and baby dolls lined the bed. Ariana picked up a brush from a dresser and began to work it through Carmela’s curls. The little girl stood very still, watching wide-eyed in the mirror. Ariana chatted while she smoothed Carmela’s hair. Then she gathered it into a high, fluffy ponytail. Admiring her handiwork, Ariana couldn’t help but wonder if she might soon have a little girl or boy.

  “Grazie,” Carmela said, grinning. She threw her arms around Ariana’s neck and kissed her before racing back into the kitchen to show her father.

  “Very pretty,” Alessandro said, his gaze lingering on Ariana before he turned back to the refrigerator.

  Giggling, the two children scrambled onto stools at a counter.

  “They’re not used to seeing anyone but my sister in the kitchen with me.” Alessandro put out a bowl of marinated olives and a wedge of Parmigiana-Reggiano cheese with bread. “First, the antipasti. A little something to nibble on. Can you pour some of that olive oil into a little plate?”

  Sandro pointed to a dishrack next to the sink. Ariana picked up a plate and poured the fragrant olive oil.

  “That smells delicious,” Ariana said.

  Alessandro swirled in fresh rosemary, and then he tore off a small hunk of warm bread and dipped it into the oil. He lifted it to her mouth. “Taste it,” he said, his eyes sparkling.

  Ariana let him feed her, and the taste exploded in her mouth. “That’s delicious,” she said, swooning a little.

  The children giggled, and Alessandro smiled. “We’re just getting started. You must be food deprived.”

  “I’m extra hungry all of a sudden.” Ariana thought of her new condition. Was this normal? Even though she hardly felt pregnant yet, she should make a doctor’s appointment and start reading up on what to expect.

  Alessandro grinned. “I like women who like to eat. Slice off some cheese to fortify yourself.” He poured a glass of wine for her and slid it toward her.

  “Oh, thanks,” she said, inhaling the rich aroma of the red wine.

  “It’s a local wine,” he said, pouring a small amount for himself. He touched her glass. “Cincin.”

  Ariana lifted her glass, though she’d sworn off alcohol as soon as she’d discovered she was pregnant. Putting it down without drinking, she met Alessandro’s gaze. “I’m so glad you invited me. This is a special treat.”

  Alessandro took a sip and smiled. Indicating a rack of knives, he said, “Choose your weapon.”

  From the refrigerator, he brought out broccoli, orange and yellow peppers, and an assortment of other vegetables and herbs for her to slice while he filled a large pot with water.

  While they cooked together, they chatted, and the children joined in. Ariana asked what they were doing in school, and Sandro proudly showed off his writing and math. Carmelo brought out a picture of a cat that she had painted, and Ariana immediately saw her talent and praised her.

  Soon supper was ready, and the four of them sat at the table. The pasta, vegetables, and sautéed lake fish were delicious—simply prepared and flavored to perfection.

  After eating their chocolate chip cookies, the children played outside in a grassy area of the garden while Ariana and Alessandro sat and watched them.

  As the sun was setting over the lake, casting brilliant colors on the water, Ariana turned to Alessandro. “This is so nice. You’re lucky to have such a lovely family.”

  Alessandro inclined his head. “I’m grateful for my children, but luck was not with my wife, I’m afraid.”

  Ariana bit her lip. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s all right,” Alessandro said, resting his hand on hers. “We were lucky to have the time we did. I just miss her. She had breast cancer if you’re wondering. Very aggressive. If it weren’t for Paolina, I don’t know how I would have managed the children. They were so sad; it was heartbreaking.” He sipped the wine he’d brought out onto the terrace.

  “I can’t imagine how difficult it must have been.”

  “We’re getting better,” Alessandro said.

  “I’m glad.” Ariana asked a few questions about his wife, and Alessandro seemed to enjoy speaking about her.

  “Not many people ask about her anymore,” Alessandro said. “Thank you for letting me talk about her. And how about you?”

  Ariana shook her head, and then, without really planning to, she told him about Phillip.

  “It’s better to know you’re incompatible before the marriage than afterward,” Alessandro said. “If you hadn’t listened to your heart, you wouldn’t be here now.” He paused and touched her hand. “And I’m happy you’re here.”

  “So am I,” she said softly.

  “I hate to break this up, but I have to put the children to bed,” he said. “Will you stay longer?”

  “I’d like that,” Ariana said. “If you don’t mind, I can help tuck them in.”

  Alessandro lifted a corner of his mouth. “They’d like that. So would I.”

  After reading to the children and putting them to bed, Ariana and Alessandro sat outside again, watching the lights of Lake Como glow in the night. Ariana cupped her hands around the bergamot-flavored tea that Alessandro had made for her.

  “You don’t drink wine?” Alessandro asked.

  Ariana felt heat rise to her cheeks. “It’s not that I don’t drink wine, it’s just that…I have to be careful about driving. I’m not used to such narrow, twisting roads.”

  Alessandro chuckled. “They take some getting used to.”

  As the night wore on, they talked for a long time. Ariana found it easy to share her thoughts on a range of topics that she hardly shared with anyone, from what she loved about designing to her relationship with her mother. And Alessandro told her what it was like growing up here and what he dreamed of for his children.

  When it was time to leave, Alessandro walked her to her car.

  “I had such a nice time,” Ariana said. Her heart was thumping as he took a step closer and brushed a strand of hair from her face.

  “It was more than nice,” Alessandro said. “It’s been so long since I could talk like we did tonight.”

  Ariana knew she should get in the car and drive away. But something inside of her welled up, and she acted on impulse. Raising her face to Alessandro’s, she kissed him, not on the cheeks as he seemed to be expecting, but directly on those full lips that she couldn’t resist.

  Though clearly taken by surprise, Alessandro quickly responded, sliding his arm around her shoulders, tentatively at first, and then returning her kiss.

  After a few moments, Ariana pulled away. Without a word, she slid into her car and turned the ignition. As she pulled from the driveway, she wondered where this friendship was going, and why she had taken such a chance.

  Chapter 21

  Hollywood, 1952

  * * *

  Ruby stepped off the bus in front of the studio lot, which loomed before her like a self-contained village. Clutching her purse, she stood in a line of people at the front gate. While she waited, she tamped down the churning feeling in her stomach. Silly nerves, she told herself. When it was her turn, she stepped up to the guard at the gatehouse.

  “I’m Ruby Raines, and I’m here for an audition with Royce Blackstone.” She relayed the details her agent had given her and waited while the guard found her name on his list. He handed her the lot address of the building, along with a map of the studio lot.

  Ruby joined the flow of aspiring actors and crew members streaming onto the lot for auditions. She was thrilled to be among fellow artists, writers, and performer
s. Many people were bustling to the sets in makeup and costumes. Cowboys, dancers, an Egyptian queen. Some clutched scripts, while others waited in line at the commissary for breakfast. The smell of food made her stomach lurch.

  This audition was critical. Ruby needed money to rent an apartment for them when he arrived. She’d also have to wire funds to her parents for more food and supplies.

  As Ruby crossed the studio lot, she imagined Niccolò whispering encouragement in her ear. Chin up. She wrote to him almost every day, although she’d only received a couple of brief letters in return.

  Niccolò’s spelling and grammar were indeed as poor as he’d described. She smiled as she thought of his embarrassment. He’d learned his English verbally, but she would help him with spelling and grammar.

  Ruby and Niccolò had agreed to wait until he arrived in Hollywood to tell her parents about their wedding. Based on how his father had reacted, Niccolò insisted on being there to protect her in case her father was angry.

  While her parents had been happy to see her sister Patricia marry, an Italian actor probably didn’t meet their idea of a suitable son-in-law. Their parents were eagerly anticipating grandchildren, yet after eight years of marriage, Patricia and her husband had yet to have children. They were also struggling financially, as were all the local ranchers. Everyone was praying for an end to the drought.

  Ruby hurried up the steps to a white building with tall columns and a wide front porch that looked more like a grand mansion in Pasadena. Drawing a deep breath, she opened the door.

  “Good morning,” Ruby said to the receptionist seated at a desk inside. “I’m here to see Royce Blackstone to audition for Diary of a Pioneer Woman.” She clutched her purse and tried to steady her breathing as an odd wave of nausea threatened to overtake her. Anxiety had never affected her quite like this. She swallowed hard against the tickling sensation.

  “Please have a seat.” The receptionist handed her a short script and motioned toward a row of chairs filled with other young women her age.