Keeping her close, we navigated the floor together, being pulled in so many different directions—from her parents and mine.
I was used to her parents doing this dance, but not mine. Maggie Beautiful had little to say, nodding here and there, mostly sipping champagne.
Neither of us were used to being the center of this madness.
My wife, on the other hand, being a skilled performer and people charmer, did just that: charmed everyone she spoke to—in several languages. Men found her witty, and women found her endearing.
Every eye in the room seemed to take her in, her timeless beauty evident, even with a mask covering most of her face. Her legs alone were cause for comment and staring.
I couldn’t blame the bastards, though the craving was there to do harm.
My mother- and father-in-law were in their element. Mati had always expected Scarlett to marry a man of worth, a large diamond on her third finger, homes all over the world, and stories to repeat from her days as anÉtoile. Scarlett was still considered one of the ballet’s finest dancers, and she always would be. All of this was fodder for plenty of conversations.
If the Poésy’s needed to slide into a certain conversation or wanted to impress their companions, Scarlett was their girl.
Mati’s eyes lit up as Scarlett waved her left hand, her wedding band throwing off a rainbow of colors. Scarlett was deep in conversation with a few high-powered people, giving them a recount of a specific performance.
As for myself, I was on my third glass of whiskey, no end in sight. It was almost a relief when the music drifted off and one of my great-uncles took the stage to much applause.
“Here we go,” Scarlett mouthed.
He was an older man, not prone to long prose, and without much fuss, he introduced the man of the hour to take the stage, Luca Leone Fausti.
Each generation skipped middle names—either Leone or Piero, both family names spanning the ages. Hence all of our sons would don the middle name of Leone, while my brothers and I all shared Piero.
After the two men hugged, Luca kissing his uncle’s cheek, his uncle said something to him that looked meaningful by his facial expression, and then Luca stepped up to the microphone.
The crowd laughed as he made some joke about forgetting his notes, patting his suit as if he were worried.
It was a joke. The man could charm a crowd full of snakes without a two-second notice.
Scarlett often called him enigmatic, charismatic. The way I saw it, the man could talk other men into war without a true foundation for it. He just had that way about him.
He went on to thank all his guests for attending, for the generous contributions to all of the charities, and said he hoped the night’s festivities lived up to their expectations. Then he went on to say that this night would have not been possible without the help of his daughters. He called them each up to the stage, in the order that we were born.
I helped Scarlett up the steps first, my brothers following suit, and then we returned to our spots on the floor to listen.
Luca asked the crowd to give them a round of applause, and then each woman came to the microphone, giving a description of their charities and explaining why those particular charities were close to their hearts.
Juliette finished with, “Later on in the night, there will be auctions to raise even more funds, for those who are willing to dig a little deeper. Not only in your pockets, but in your hearts.”
This crowd could dig to Neverland and still find their pockets lined.
Kissing Scarlett’s cheek as she came to stand beside me again, I listened to Luca raving over how beautiful his daughters were and how proud he was to call them his.
This narrative morphed into one aboutfamigliaand how important it was. He gave a brief history of the Faustis, going into how for generations they have lived and loved in Italy, how our hearts and blood were tangled in the soil, rooted like an ever-expanding tree.
He finished this impressive speech with, “I would do anything for my family, for my country. I would even die to see my father’s wishes come true. This night is one for wishes to come true.”
The crowd didn’t murmur, nor did they stir at this macabre line. He had control over them. Had sucked them in from the start. And unless an outsider was skilled in the art of double meanings, his hidden message remained safe among strangers.
The Faustifamigliaread past outward meanings though; this was an event not only in honor of giving but receiving.
This party not only benefited charity. It benefited Luca Fausti.
Lothario, whether he wanted it or not, was in the middle of the transfer of power.
He knew it, standing stolid and stoic, but I had a feeling that after the speech was over, we’d see what he had to say. Would he give in graciously, or had he decided to fight to the end? So far, he’d been quiet.
