“I wondered as much,” Albert said. “She’s striking, like you.”
He didn’t say it in a creepy way, Darcy noted. She was grateful for that.
“It sounds like you’ve been reading my grandmother’s work for a long time,” Darcy said.
“About five years now,” he admitted. “I started reading them because my wife was reading them. She packed an entire suitcase of Estelle’s books when we went on vacation. It drove me crazy until I picked one up myself. I grew fascinated with Estelle’s voice and the way she sees the world. Of course, I let my marriage fall apart shortly after that. But I kept reading Estelle’s books. I couldn’t get them out of my head.”
Darcy’s smile faltered. “I’m sorry about your marriage.”
“It happens,” Albert said. “But you know, when people see me reading Estelle’s books, they think I’m a sad, old sap. They have no idea how sophisticated romance novels can be. Especially hers. I guess I’m on a crusade to show people how important romance can be.”
“Beautifully said.”
Albert put away his pipe. “I hope you don’t mind me asking. Who were you talking to on the phone?”
“My husband,” Darcy said. “He put our two little kids to bed. It’s never easy.”
“No, it’s not,” Albert said. He looked suddenly forlorn and gray-faced. “I remember that time of my life. It went so quickly. It slipped through my fingers. Now, they’re adults. I haven’t spoken to them in years.”
Darcy’s eyes stung. She told herself not to cry, certainly not over a stranger’s life.
“Why don’t you reach out to them yourself?” she asked.
Albert considered this. “Pride, I suppose. Isn’t that awful? Think about all the time I’ve wasted. I’m still wasting it.”
Darcy was quiet. She considered Rachelle, so far away, doing whatever it was she did these days. There was so little Darcyknew about her. And she knew she couldn’t lecture Albert. Darcy had pride, too. It was keeping her from her sister. Maybe they’d never talk again.
How could she be such a hypocrite?
9
Rome, Italy
It was late June, just a couple of weeks after the restaurant fire, and already, it was clear to Rachelle that the bills were becoming too much for her. Despite her paychecks from Diana’s restaurant and her tireless efforts to write down every expense, Rachelle wasn’t sure how she was going to keep her restaurant lease, rebuild the interior, rehire all her staff, and reopen anytime soon. It was a nightmare that kept her reeling.
That night, Diana’s restaurant was hopping. Ticket after ticket printed in the kitchen, keeping Rachelle, Diana, and the other chefs spinning till close. Rachelle was unsteady on her feet, shaking, maybe because she hadn’t eaten enough today. It wasn’t like her to forget to feed herself, especially not before a massive shift. She was letting the facts of her life slip through the cracks.
After they’d cleaned the kitchen, Rachelle joined Diana at the bar for a nightcap. Diana clinked her glass of wine with hers and smiled sadly. “I know you’re grieving,” she said.
Rachelle adjusted herself on the stool beside her friend and boss and mother figure. She spun her engagement ring around her finger. “I’m fine,” she said. “I’m still trying to figure out what to do.”
Diana arched her eyebrow. “I’ve never met anyone more driven, Rachelle. I know you can fight your way through this.”
Rachelle let her shoulders drop. She considered telling Diana about Riccardo’s family, their tremendous wealth, and her suspicion that she should just ask them for help. But asking for that kind of help felt similar to giving up. She didn’t want Diana to look down on her.
Suddenly, the restaurant door opened to bring in Riccardo, his friend Arturo, and Rachelle’s friends Roberta and Malina. They were dressed in going-out clothes and smelled of beer and wine. They tugged Rachelle into the night, begging her to party with them. Rachelle didn’t have work tomorrow, which meant Diana gave her blessing. “Go! Celebrate the summertime!” Diana said.
That night, Rachelle tried to forget about her sorrows. She danced with her friends and kissed Riccardo on the dance floor, just as they had the first night they met. Midnight trickled to one, which turned to two, and still, they were out in Rome, one of the most iconic cities in the world. Rachelle asked herself what she really had to worry about. She was young-ish and in love. She was going to marry into one of the wealthiest families. Everything was fine!
But when she and Riccardo returned to their apartment that night, she burst into tears. Riccardo did his best to calm her down. He wrapped her in blankets and made her tea and kissed her till she could breathe again. “Tell me what’s going on,” Riccardo said. “Come on. No secrets between us. We’re going to get married!”
Rachelle hiccuped, then forced herself to say, “I’m just worried that I’m going to have to give up my lease. It feels like giving up on my biggest dream.”
Riccardo leaned back. A smile glinted on his lips. “Can I say something?”
Rachelle frowned. “Of course.”
“What if giving up the lease isn’t the worst thing in the world?”
