Michael and I exchange a sideways glance, as if to say,Just in time.
“Well, there’s dessert: We brought a ton of Buontalenti!” Lapo announces, waving the tub of gelato. “What can we do? Shall we help you set the table?”
“Sure,” I nod. “I’ll bake the bruschetta. You guys can set the table under the pergola.” Practical things—I have to concentrate on practical things to cool off.
While guests swarm around the kitchen with their respective tasks, Michael approaches me, touching his head to mine. “It’s just a setback,” he whispers in my ear. “I have every intention of finishing what we started.”
Someone call 9-1-1. There’s a fire!
We’re about to sit down at the table, Giada and Carletto hand in hand, Caroline with her perpetual annoyed look, Lapo showing off his repertoire of jokes and Margherita scolding him for the vulgar ones. Cosimo and his partner Andres have brought each of us one of their personalized essences, and Michael and I end up accidentally finding ourselves nextto each other. Of course, this only fuels the tension from the kitchen. Not to mention that tonight I have to keep an eye on the bunch of wild teenagers down at the annex ...
We’re only missing Lucia and her companion, who are coming up the path.
“I thought we were eating at your place, not here at the villa. So, it’s an event! Good thing I wore my new dress,” she jokes. Her mysterious plus-one appears a few steps behind her ...
No, it can’t be!
This must be a joke.
“Elmo?” I ask, unable to contain my shock and earning a kick in the shins from Giada, who is sitting across from me.
“I told you I wouldn’t be alone,” she replies with a serene smile. “Did you set an extra place?”
“Of, of course,” I stammer, still stunned.
Elmo Colli? What the hell is Lucia doing with Elmo Colli? Charity work?
“Sit down!” Giada trills with enthusiasm. “There was a mix-up with the pici, but thebruschettoniare plentiful, there’s charcuterie for days, and we have crudités and dip with veggies from the garden. And what we don’t have in food, we’ll make up for in wine.” She welcomes them over by holding out two full glasses to them. She gives me a big-sister look, and I down my entire glass of red in one gulp.
Food and alcohol liven up the conversation, and Cosimo and Andres hold court with updates.
“Let’s toast! We have an announcement to make,” exclaims Cosimo.
“Are you getting married?” asks Margherita, who, like a good Belvedere native, is always thinking about wedding rings.
“That’s coming, but not yet. On September 15, a selection of our perfumes is going on sale at Selfridges! In London!”
We all burst into applause. It is extremely rare for a person from Belvedere to venture over the county line—not to mention the Alps.
“How did you do it?” asks Giada.
“Pure luck. In April, a buyer from Selfridges was pickpocketed right in front of our store,” explains Andres.
“Lucky for you,” Carletto jokes.
“Not so much for her. In any case, we helped her, took her to file a complaint, and tried to make up for the loss of her brand-new Gucci tote with a gift of three of our fragrances.”
“Gangsters,” Michael taunts them. “You hired that pickpocket, didn’t you?”
“We had no idea who she was. She hadn’t told us what she did, and we thought she was just another English tourist. But the next day, she came back and introduced herself, telling us that the following month was the Paris Parfumeur, the largest international perfumery fair, where she and the warehouse managers decide what new products to bring to the shop. She said if we had a stand, she’d do her best to convince her buyers, so ...”
“And so we used all our savings,” Andres takes the floor.
“The cash we would have spent on a wedding reception, basically,” emphasizes Cosimo.
“You sound like you regret it,” his partner scolds him.
“Never! But yeah, it took us a long time to make that money ... sorry. I’ll stop. Go on.”
