“Sì.It is the way the house is cloaked in total darkness at night, except for the love of the stars, and then when the time comes for the darkness to give over to the light, she breaks free and basks in the glory of it. She gives herself over to it. She not only reflects it, she bathes in it. You see this?”
“Yes,” she breathed. “I do.”
It was as if she was lost for words, perhaps her mind connecting truths her heart already knew. It took her a few moments, but then she asked, “Rosaria, do you think it can also mean breaking the surface?”
I gave her a smile as true as my husband claimed the truth in my voice was. “You mean like a diver, no? One that rises from the mysterious depths of the water to break the surface for the one he loves.Sì.It can be the same thing. You can make it as you wish,bella.The villa is here for you, not the other way around.”
She laughed as if she was high on the truth, quietly, almost disbelievingly. “If I said those same words out loud, I’d sound like a cliché.”
“We cannot all be born Italian. Lucky for you—” I pinched her cheek “—you are married to one!”
“Sì.”Her cheeks flushed a scarlet red that I could see in the darkness. Herbella bestiawas not even around, and she was burning for him. “I am that.”
“What do you say to this place now?”
She leaned over the balcony, a girlish grin on her face.“Sì, we’ll take it.”
Sì, I thought, tapping my chin.You will take it, but will you take the burden that comes with it once you know the truth?I had a feeling she would carry it for her husband, but I also had a feeling she was going to make this life harder for him.
Sighing, I leaned over the balcony with her, looking forward instead of up. A little floating went a long way for me. I could float when I was dead. I preferred to look life head on and ram my head into it. I had always been told I had a hard one. Why not use it, no?
However, this tiny dancer seemed to have shaken me a bit, even though it was not in a way that changed my core. I started to think about Olivier Nemours and what he could possibly be doing to this couple. Or would do.
Of course, my loyalties were with whoever the Fausti family were loyal to. But apart from my husband and I potentially having to kill this bastard son of the family and his precious wife, my heart felt lighter at the thought of her being here. Safe away from Olivier. He would not dare walk on ground that the Fausti family had claimed.
And my feelings had nothing to do with being soft…
They had to do with hard.
I did not like people attempting to force me to do anything I did not want to do. I did not like feeling trapped by anyone or anything. And because of that, I wanted to help protect this soft creature. Because despite what the world thought of me, my faults, as they claimed, I did believe that differences made the world go round, and if the tiny dancer was one thing, she was different. And I loved the world because I was in it—it had to keep spinning.
Chapter 12
The Chapter that Changed My Life, or Also Known As: A Missing Package on a Street of Romance
Abate Fetel pears, a bottle of Chianti, and a wedge of Pecorino di Pienza—mine—all fucking gone.
Twice.
These things were a treat on my long drives. I would eat them in the car if time did not permit me a proper meal at a table. Mario had said I had picked them up twice! I did not. He knew better than to challenge my word. He was more perplexed than anything.
Mario had pointed to the door. “The beautifulsignora,”he said in his trademark sing-song voice, “that was with you last time claimed them.”
I had turned just in time to see thesignorahe pointed at walking out of the store.
Beautiful signora? Last time?Mario was rising in age, and I started to wonder if time was stealing his memory. Then he proceeded to tell me the woman answered to the name Fausti.
Women in Italy did not take a man’s last name as they did in America. My wife, or any woman married to a Fausti, would use the name if she needed to, but I could not foresee a woman using the name to swindle a package of pears, wine, and cheese, unless she was starving. In that case, the offense was forgiven andwould be made right so she would never have to swindle for food again.
However.
There was a man involved, one who Mario seemed to mistake me for.
The mysterious woman could have possibly been my great aunt Lola, who was married to the famed doctor, Tito Sala, and went by the name Fausti. She and my grandfather were siblings. But I also knew Mario would never mistakeProzioTito for a Fausti man. He was birdlike. And Mario knewProziaLola and would not mind delivering the goods to her himself.ProziaLola had charms I did not, even for a Fausti.
I stepped outside of the shop, again, frustrated that Mario had not gotten another shipment of the pears yet. It made me even more determined to find this mysterious woman and get to the bottom of thismistero.
Mybellapears, Chianti, and cheese were taken!Twice!
