She shook her head, picking through thefrittomistoin search of a prawn. ‘Let’s just call her a creative partner for now.’ Until Lucia had clarity as to what Benedetta mightactuallyoffer, she preferred to keep the details close. For now.
He nodded. ‘I hope it goes well.’
‘The deadline to secure the money is nineteen days away. I am without other options at this point.’
‘What happens if you can’t secure enough money?’
‘The lawyer who is settling Jacopo’s estate found someone who has offered to pay double the asking price for Jacopo’s share. If I can beat that offer, the share is mine. If not, this investor takes his half and has full right to half the operations of La Scuola Rosa. Our culture. Our practice. Our history.’ Having located a prawn she brought it to her lips. ‘All potentially vulnerable to one of the vilest businessmen in Venice.’ She articulated “businessmen” with sarcastic air quotes, prawn in hand.
Alex raised an eyebrow questioningly. ‘I hope it works out, Lucia. I really do. And I hope you feel good about this “creative partner” avenue. It sounds like so much is riding on it.’
Dropping the prawn back onto the pile, she grimaced. If there were ever a moment to be unguarded, there, on the bench with Alex and Foscari, was it. ‘It’s not what I want at all, Alex. It will mean being publicly vulnerable. Sharing things about my life and experiences I would rather toss to the bottom of the lagoon and forget about forever. But I have no other way out. As much as it terrifies me,’ her emerald eyes met his, ‘I have to try to find the positives. Otherwise, I’ll just drown under the weight of it all.’
quarantatré
Benedetta was dressed just as immaculately as the first time she had come to the school. She left a trail of designer perfume up the stairs, which eventually clouded where they sat at Lucia’s dining table.
Lucia watched with trepidation as Benedetta considered the digits on the pre-prepared notes Lucia had passed to her. She couldn’t read the older woman’s facial expression. Was it calculating, the way her tongue poked out to the side and her frown gathered in thought? Or was she confused about how a grown woman of Lucia’s age could possibly find herself needing this much money?
Lucia suddenly felt ashamed. Her feet bounced under the table, as if ratcheting up the tension.
Foscari was perched by thecalle-facing window with his little black nose pressed to the glass. He yapped, and Lucia tried to settle him with a hush.
‘Itisa stretch,’ Benedetta eventually remarked, setting down Lucia’s notes. She reached for the coffee cup to her right. Taking a sip she shook her head and looked back at the original advance she had penned in her contract, tutting.
‘As in?’
‘It is more than I had planned in my budgeting of the project. And your request for full payment upon signature is quite uncommon.’ Benedetta’s eyes fixed on Lucia, then cast a glance around her apartment. ‘But you, Lucia, are a unique offering. And, these past few months of challenges and renewed media spotlight have only fortified the interest the public has in you. Your love life. And your story.’
Lucia swallowed and the delicate skin under her eyes greyed. ‘Can it be done? The money and terms?’
Benedetta paused for a moment to think. ‘I will need to amend some clauses in the contract to mitigate certain risks to La Copertina. But, I think so.’
Exhaling her relief, Lucia nearly doubled over in her chair. ‘Grazie, Benedetta.’
‘Ifwe step into this deal together, Lucia, you are going to need to be prepared to let me in. Open yourself up to me. And your editor.’
‘Editor?’
‘The person who will help you write the book.’
‘Theywould write the book?’
Benedetta’s eyes narrowed while she dug around for the most appropriate wording. ‘Co-write. With you. Bring your words and experiences to the fore.’
‘So, I wouldn’t be telling my story alone.’
‘Not exactly.’
‘But it’smystory.’
‘We would help you . . . curate . . . the most captivating narrative.’
‘Narrative? You make it sound like fiction.’
Benedetta laughed, and Lucia felt a pang of irritation. Was her story amusing? Her life experiences, were they merely entertainment?
‘By narrative, I mean, what the readers really want to know aboutyou. Asl’Orfana.’
