"Will you be okay if I leave you now?" he asks.
"Yes, of course."
He nods and strides off along the corridor. I stand by the window for a moment and look out. There's so much space. I look down at the credit card in my hand and make a decision.
Whether Gabriele allows me to bring in landscapers and decorators or not, I am going to brighten this place up. If all I cando is bring in a few colorful pillows and some livelier art, then that's what I'll do.
My husband may have been content to live in a mausoleum but I am not. Somewhere between this lifeless interior and the Russian bling I've been used to is a happy medium and I'm going to find it.
This is my home now and I intend to be comfortable here.
If Gabriele has a problem with that, he can take it up with me in person.
SEVEN
Gabriele
Though I've leftmy wife to her own devices for the last couple of days, she hasn't been sitting around twiddling her thumbs as she waits for me to come to her again. In fact, she's been extremely busy spending a fortune online at various home and garden stores.
None of the purchases have been particularly large but when they're added up, they'd make a serious dent in most men's bank balances. Fortunately for her, I am not most men.
She's bought pillows, rugs, some accent pieces for various rooms and plants for both indoors and out. Lukas has kept me apprised of her activities. He told me of her desire to decorate which explains why she bought two dozen tins of ecru paint.
I'm not sure what she intends to do with that. It's hard to picture my elegant wife with a brush in hand.
"She can bring someone in to decorate the dining room, the main living room and her bedroom," I tell Lukas. "Vet them carefully and ensure there are plenty of guards to supervise. If all goes well, she can move on to other parts of the house."
"What about the garden? She seems to have a particular desire to beautify it."
"Isn't Eduardo's brother-in-law a landscaper?"
"Garden architect," Lukas corrects me.
I shake my head, not having realized there was such a thing.
"Bring him round to meet Katya. They can do what they like out there as long as they don't paint the guardhouse neon pink or something equally ridiculous."
Lukas laughs. "Maybe they can disguise it with one of those wooden trellises with vines creeping up it."
I narrow my eyes. "Don't give them ideas." I glance at the diary notification that's popped up on my laptop screen for the third time today. "We've got the St. Pietro's gala on Friday."
"Yes, Santo is on standby to take her shopping for a dress."
"Good, but I was thinking it might be nice for her to spend time with another woman, one of the soldiers' wives, maybe?"
Lukas grins. "You want to set her up on a playdate?"
"I want her to have someone who knows how things work around here."
My oldest friend rubs his chin thoughtfully. “Anna Ricci is a good choice."
"The German girl?"
Lukas nods. "Bastiano's wife. She worked for Fendi when she first moved to Rome."
His knowledge of trivial matters to do with the people around us never fails to surprise me. "How do you know that?"
"Because Bastiano has the most amazing collection of shoes. She got them for him when she worked there. The woman knows fashion and from what I've seen of her she's got her head screwed on right. She won't lead Katya astray."
