She packs a candleholder into the box. "Vico…" she mutters absentmindedly. "He has changed." Suddenly, she looks directly at me. "Because of you."
She shouldn't say something like that. I better pretend not to understand what she means. Besides, there are more important things to discuss. "Do you think he could still take over the estate?"
She nibbles on her lower lip. "When he returned home three weeks ago, he was like Mount Vesuvius. He thought I wouldn't notice, but I always knew that beneath his unapproachable facade, a fire was burning, one he had kept small for years."
"I have no idea what she's trying to tell me. So I just gesture for her to continue and lean against the cool wall behind me.
"Mother's death hit him hard too, but he didn't let anyone see it. Instead, he ran away," she says, shaking her head, and turnsto the next picture. "He keeps insisting that he wants to be free. How important his career as a cliff diver is and that he can't survive without adrenaline."
"He does," I confirm, as I've seen the sparkle in his eyes more than once when he talked about his passion.
Camilla pauses in her work and brushes the fringes of her short haircut away from her face. "There was nothing more important to Vico than his family and his homeland in the past. He wanted to be nowhere else but here."
But that's it. That could be the solution! If Florian and I buy an alternative property and Vico returns here to run the estate, everyone would win. "Do you think there's still some of the old Vico left?"
"I don't know." She lifts her shoulders with a mournful look. "He probably would have done something to stop the sale if that were the case. But when I asked him yesterday to get Father's signature on the contract, he did it without batting an eye."
The contract already has one of the two necessary signatures? My stomach feels like it's filled with rocks. No. Florian just said on the phone that there are still clauses to be negotiated. The agreement is not ready for signing. There must be a miscommunication, which is quite possible given his fragmented Italian. And who knows how well Signor Olivetta speaks English.
"Ask him what his homeland means to him," Camilla continues with a soft voice. "If he tells anyone the truth, it will be you." There's something meaningful in her expression.
"No more," I reply quickly, because I actually believe that. It might have been true once. But that's over now.
As if my response doesn't bother her, she looks at me knowingly. "Ask him," she repeats insistently.
"We won't see each other anymore. I still have a lot to do today, and in the evening, I'll be testing the vineyard dinner atCastello di Olmo." And with the way Vico has been avoiding me lately, I don't think he wants to talk to me anyway. "It would be better if you talk to him."
Her forehead furrows, and I can almost see the question on her tongue. Fortunately, she doesn't ask it but reaches for another box to unfold. "I will," she murmurs thoughtfully and walks into the kitchen.
