Champagne Deception (16 page)

“Why didn’t you listen to your
wise little sisters?” She poked him playfully in the shoulder.

“I don’t know.  Foolishness I guess.  I
thought Barbara and I had a long term future together.  And you were going back to the United States at the end of the semester,” he said with a faraway look in his eyes.  As they walked through a pathway of trees, his eyes deepened to forest green.  “I wonder what would have happened if I had taken their advice.  I mean, you and I would have been together all these years.  Maybe we’d even have a
bambino
or two!”

Coretta smiled dreamily at the prospect.  What if she had never gone home to Connecticut…never met Jonathan…never left Lorenzo’s side…

“Or maybe we would have broken up.  We were so young then.  I think this is the way it was supposed to happen,” she said resolutely, refusing to entertain pointless what-ifs.

“I think you’re absolutely right,” he whispered, clasping his arms around her snugly as she instinctively parted her lips for a kiss.

In the distance, the rustling of leaves jolted them out of the intimate moment.  Coretta’s body turned to ice as she held onto Lorenzo and exchanged a worried glance.  “Was that a person?” She asked, frightened.

He listened for a moment as a pile of leaves crunched as though under the shoes of a bulky human being.  A millisecond later, silence pervaded the woods, except for the shallow sound of Coretta’s nervous breathing.  They stood paralyzed, waiting for another sound to shatter the silence.

Clinging to Lorenzo’s chest, she repeated, “Was that a person?”

“It sounded like one,” he said as low as possible.  “Unless we’re both hearing things now.”

“No!  That was real!  What is someone doing on your property?”

“This isn’t exactly my property.  The property line ends after the pathway.  It could have just been someone taking a walk on a spring morning.  Nothing to panic about,” he tried to soothe her, though he had his doubts.

“Let’s go back to the villa,” she urged.

The beauty of the moment had been destroyed
, and she didn’t want to stay outside in view of whomever was roaming through the woods.  Without speaking, they made their way back to the terrace.  Pausing at the glass doors, Lorenzo kissed Coretta’s forehead sweetly and said, “Don’t get worried again.  I think we’re both just on edge because of what was happening before.  But everything has been peaceful for the past couple of weeks.  And it still is.  That was just someone strolling.”

She nodded, though she had the sinking feeling that he was trying to convince himself as well.  The bustling kitchen lured them back to work and took their minds from a plac
e of fear to one of joy.  Just eight more hours and their gallery would be open to the world.

A chill ran down Coretta’s spine as she walked back into Lorenzo’s sculpture studio for the first time since spending t
hat treacherous night there alone.  Shadows danced evocatively on the walls in the afternoon light.  She struggled to breathe normally and not hyperventilate at the memories.

Ever the perfectionist, Lorenzo had insisted on making a
pit stop for a few extra sculptures to display at the gallery opening.  Thankfully, Angelo was nowhere to be found, and an angelic breeze cascaded through the windows.  The studio looked untouched and a little dustier than usual, as though the janitor had not returned to do his job.

“Angelo really needs to come clean this place up,” Lorenzo remarked, wiping a dust bunny off one of his works in progress.

“Not today, though,” she clipped, the shiver returning at the mention of the creepy fellow’s name.

“Definitely not today.  Let’s just go upstairs and get out of here.”

“Why upstairs? Is that where your sculptures are?”

“Yes, come with me, I want to show you something
.”

He led the way upstairs and, as he neared the top, one of the planks rattled ominously.  In a flash, Coretta remembered how she had almost slipped through the cracks and fallen to her death because of the loose step.  Protectively, she grabbed onto Lorenzo and hurried him up the stairs.

“Quick!  Before that plank falls out of place!” She urged.

As they stood together at the top of the staircase, he marveled, “
Dio mio
, that could have been a tragedy!  I never noticed that step was loose.  This whole place is too old.  I should just get the whole building renovated.” He shook his head in dismay.

Hesitantly, Coretta spoke up to reveal how she had known about the hazard but forgotten to tell him.  “I almost fell to the ground because of that step when you were in Umbria.  I meant to tell you, but with everything else going on, it just slipped my mind.  I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.  Nothing bad happened, and that’s all that matters.” He held her close for a moment before switching on the light in the tiny bedroom.  “Come over here.”

He led her to the far corner of the room where a safe was mounted on the wall.  Coretta blinked wondering why she hadn’t noticed the safe when she slept in here.  Methodically, Lorenzo twisted a combination and the safe opened.

“I haven’t opened this safe in almost two years.  Some of my most prized sculptures are in here.  I’ve been saving them for a special event.”  He pulled out a small bust of a man holding hands with a little boy.

“Is that supposed to be you and your dad?” Coretta asked softly.

“Yes, I sculpted it right after he died.  I wish I had made it when he was still alive, but the idea didn’t come to me until after he was gone.” Tears brimmed his eyelids.

Coretta slipped her hand inside his.  “It’s beautiful,” she breathed.  “Are you sure you want to sell it?”

“Yes, it’s time.  Let someone enjoy this art.  It’s not doing any good locked in this safe.” He wrapped the sculpture in tissue paper and then retrieved two more.  “These other ones don’t have sentimental value, but I’ve been saving them anyway.  Sometimes it’s hard to part with your work, you know?”

“Yes, I do know!” Coretta exclaimed, holding the small sculptures reverently in her hands.  “This one is a wolf, right?”

“A lone wolf, just like I saw myself until I met you,” he said gravely.  “And this one is a pair of lovers.  Like us.” His expression lightened.

“They’re all amazing.  You
are
a modern day Michelangelo like your mother said!” Coretta complimented sincerely.

Brushing off the flattery, he said, “Come on,
carissima
.  Let’s get going.”

“Wait, what’s that back there?” She asked, pointing to a bag wrapped in rubber bands.  “Are there sculptures in there too?”

Lorenzo grinned.  “No.  That’s a cash stash.  I keep about 8,000 euros in there in case of emergency.”

“Smart idea,” she remarked as he locked the safe up.

Carefully, they approached the staircase and looked down with a shadow of fear.  “I think we should slide down on our butts!  That might be the safest way.” She suggested.

He nodded as they
slid down the stairs one by one.  They breathed a mutual sigh of relief when they had safely passed the loose plank.  Grabbing her purse and putting on the helmet like second nature, Coretta followed Lorenzo outside.  The sun was dimming and evening was sliding into the heavens.

They made a quick stop at the villa to change into their formal evening wear.  Eagerly, Coretta raced up the stairs to the closet where the loveliest dress she had ever owned hung waiting to be worn.  Lorenzo chuckled appreciatively as she stripped down and stepped into the scarlet dress.

“I’ve been waiting to wear this!”

“And I’ve been waiting to see you wear it,” he retorted, whistling flirtatiously.

Discarding his clay-stained jeans and tee-shirt on the floor, he selected a black suit from the closet.  Coretta watched as his broad shoulders filled out the jacket and he fastened his necktie into place.  She had never seen him look more handsome.

“I think you should wear suits more often, Signor Fiatti.”

“Sure.  If you wear little red dresses more often,” he winked.

“It’s a deal,” she laughed, standing next to him in the full-length mirror.  “Damn good looking couple we make, don’t you think?”

“Absolutely,” he replied, running his hands over her curves that the cocktail dress accentuated.

“Mmm, let’s get out of this bedroom while we still can,” she murmured
seductively against his lips.

Standing up straight and clearing his throat, he replied, “Yes, let’s go.  Destiny awaits.”

***
**

Downstairs, Antonella and Margarita were loading the cars up with covered dishes
and trays.  Franco made several trips to the kitchen for the more than two dozen bottles of champagne that would grace the buffet table.  In the midst of it all, Mamma Fiatti lay sprawled on the couch snoring softly.  Emerging from the master suite, Lorenzo and Coretta woke up Big
Mamma with a few gentle nudges.  The older woman groggily rose to her feet and gave her son a proud kiss on the cheek.

“This night is finally here.  I’m so happy for you,
caro mio
.”

Lorenzo simply smiled and said, “I’m happy for
both
of us.  Coretta has been waiting a long time for this night too.”

Signora Fiatti shrugged her shoulders as Coretta resisted the compulsion to push the
ornery woman back down onto the sofa.  “I’ll ride with your sisters, Lorenzo.  You go with Franco and your mother.”

“Okay, we’ll see you there in a few minutes
,” Lorenzo replied agreeably.

*****

Outside the gallery, Mario and Graziana stood waiting with a large bouquet of
pink roses in their hands.  Coretta smiled vividly as the benevolent couple approached her.  “
Buona sera
! 
Benvenuto a
LoCo Art Gallery!”

“Good evening to you, Coretta.  These are for the illustrious artist.” Mario graciously offered the bouquet.

“Thank you so much!  This is so thoughtful!  But we’ll see how illustrious I am by the end of the night.  This exhibition is a test of how well the public will receive my artwork,” Coretta said modestly.

The couple exchanged a mischievous glance as Graziana revealed, “I think you’re going to be very pleased with how well your work is received.  We’ve told all our friends about your paintings.  People have been walking by the gallery all week lusting after your work!  You’re going to have to ward them
off with a stick!”

“Yes,” Mario concurred, “y
ou might want to run and get some auction paddleboards because people are going to be fighting over who gets to purchase your paintings!”

Coretta felt utterly gleeful.  How perfect that this sweet couple had been taking an afternoon stroll and noticed her work
a few weeks ago.  No one ever would have seen her work if she had kept it hidden away in her apartment in Greenwich Village.  But tonight hundreds of potential collectors would behold her paintings.  Excusing herself politely, Coretta ran over to Franco’s car as he pulled into a parking space.

“This is going to be even better than I thought!” She squealed, pulling on Lorenzo’s sleeve.  “Come with me to the cellar for a minute.”

“The cellar?  Why?  Need to be alone with me again?” He teased.

“We’ll be alone later tonight,” she assured.  “I just remembered a few paintings I left down there.  I
wanted to bring them up and put them with the display.”

“Okay, let’s go.  My siblings can start setting up the buffet
, but let’s make this fast.”

Lorenzo and Coretta disappeared into the dark basement. 
She rummaged through a few boxes searching for her paintings.  “That’s odd.  I don’t see them.”

“Which ones are you looking for?” Lorenzo asked with mild impatience.

“A few of my earlier paintings that I did in college.  I wasn’t going to display them, but Mario and Graziana just told me that people are really eager to buy my work.  So I want to put as much out there as possible,” she explained, sifting through more boxes and making a mess.

“Coretta, is this really necessary?  We already have so many pieces on display upstairs.  And we need to start setting up,” Lorenzo grumbled, glancing anxiously at his watch.

“Just help me look for them!  They’re all water scenes, lakeside, ocean surf, stuff like that.” She continued to turn the cellar upside down as he tapped his toes on the floor in rising impatience.

“I know which ones you’re talking about, but I haven’t seen them lately.  Maybe they’re at the studio.”

“They’re not at the studio!  They’re here, I know it!”

“Coretta, I really think they’re at the studio,” he argued, raising his voice.

“Did you move them somewhere?  I could have sworn I left them here in this box.” She pointed to an empty cardboard box labeled ‘College Projects.’

“I might have moved them.  I don’t remember!  Why are you making such a fuss over this right now?” He yelled.