Champagne Deception (5 page)

“You know why, Coretta,” he said, stepping back even more until there was a hundred feet of distance between them.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” Coretta exclaimed, utterly dumbfounded.

“Okay, I guess you’re going to make me say it and embarrass myself,” he said darkly.

“Huh?  Say what?”

He sighed heavily before answering
in a voice drenched in awkwardness.  “I’m really embarrassed to admit this, but when you contacted me a few days ago, I looked you up online.  I found a picture of you with your boyfriend, that Wall Street guy, in the society pages of a Manhattan newspaper.  You were at a charity gala, and you both looked so happy.”

Coretta’s eyes brightened with understanding.  So Lorenzo had been curious enough about her to search for her on the internet? 
And
he was single?  Her heart flapped madly as her lips twisted into a smile.

“That picture was taken two years ago.  I can’t believe it’s still online,” Coretta mused, recalling that autumn evening and how
un
happy she had felt.  She had smiled obligingly for the camera when inwardly she was fuming at Jonathan for picking her up an hour late and criticizing her gown.

“So he’s not your boyfriend anymore?” Lorenzo asked with expectantly raised eyebrows.

“No, he’s not.  We broke up.” She neglected to tell him that they had broken up barely 48 hours ago.  That piece of information would not be encouraging news to Lorenzo, and she did not want to jeopardize a possible romance between them in any way.  Besides, the cord had effectively been cut between her and Jonathan.  She did not miss him and knew that they would never be a couple again.

“So you’re single too?”
He asked, grinning.

“Yes, I am,” Coretta replied, bridging the distance between them as she stepped forward, hoping Lorenzo would resume the kiss.

And he did.  Capturing her waist in his hands this time, he pressed his lips forcefully against hers without the slightest hesitation.  She longed to feel the weight of his whole body against her own but held herself in check, savoring the long lost art of a perfect kiss.  The earthy smell of clay filled her senses and mingled with Lorenzo’s fragrantly masculine skin.  Senses that had slept for many years rapidly reawakened under the exquisitely tender tutelage of Lorenzo Fiatti.

Coretta relished the newness of his touch, remembering how exciting it was to experience
a man for the first time.  But a first kiss had never felt this good.  There was something magical transpiring between her and this alluring Italian sculptor.  She happily surrendered and rode a sublime wave of mindlessness each time his lips slanted across hers.  Abruptly, the distinct clatter of footsteps on the hard-tiled floor forced Coretta to surface from her dream state.

Fluttering her eyes open, she was shocked to see a man in a janitorial uniform standing by the window and staring at them.  Awkwardly, she pushed Lorenzo away and tried to alert him to the intruder’s presence.  Apparently, Lorenzo had been even more lost in the kiss than she had
been, as he resisted her push and continued to taste her.

“Stop!” She mumbled into his mouth.  “Look over there!”

Frowning tightly, he turned around and finally noticed that an unwelcome third party was in the room with them.  Lorenzo issued a harsh remonstration in Italian at the sixty-something man who remained mute and shrugged his shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Coretta.  This is Angelo.  He cleans the studio once a week.” Turning to the custodian, he muttered angrily
for his benefit, “He was supposed to come on Monday!  I have no idea what he’s doing here on a Saturday!”

The scrawny janitor, who donned a long moustache like
a Texas cowboy, obviously didn’t understand English and shrugged his shoulders again with a blank look on his face.

“Oh, it’s okay,” Coretta whispered for Lorenzo’s ears only.  Angelo was staring at her in a crude way that made her feel nakedly vulnerable.

“Angelo,
lunedì! Non adesso
!” Lorenzo said sharply.  “I told him to come back Monday,” he explained to Coretta.

“I know, I understood,” she replied quietly as Angelo’s eyes penetrated her from across the studio.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, the janitor retreated, his eyes never leaving Coretta’s face as he exited the room.  Lorenzo stared after him fiercely, fully aware of the inappropriate way his employee had gawked at Coretta.

“What a mood killer,” she quipped under her breath as Lorenzo gave her a regretful look.

“Angelo didn’t kill anything,” Lorenzo argued.  “Nothing could ruin a kiss like that.”  He touched his fingers lightly to her lips, which still vibrated with his explosive kiss.  “But it’s been a long morning for you.  I can take you to your hotel so you can get settled and relax.  Which hotel are you staying at?”

In truth, Coretta was exhausted a
nd beginning to feel jet lag catch up with her.  But she hadn’t booked a hotel, she suddenly realized.  The trip had been planned so fast and haphazardly that she hadn’t remembered such a basic detail as accommodations.

Sheepishly, she admitted, “
You know what? I didn’t reserve a hotel.  I completely forgot.”

Lorenzo grinned and pointed out, “Yes, this trip happened very quickly.  What made you decide to look me up after all these years anyway?”

His green eyes glowed with curiosity that she would not satisfy.  She simply couldn’t tell him that she had brawled with her boyfriend the night she looked him up. Lorenzo would see himself as a rebound man, someone whom she wanted to use to mend her broken heart.  It would be too complicated to explain that her heart wasn’t broken at all and the relationship with Jonathan had ended on an emotional level many years ago.  No, she couldn’t drag him into that messy baggage right now.

Coretta inhaled sharply and told a half-truth.  “I wanted to see what you had done with your life after college.  And I was pretty amazed to find out that you’re such a successful sculptor.”

“It is a hard industry to crack,” he admitted.  “Well, my house is a few miles from here, and I have a guest room that you are more than welcome to stay in.”

She smiled shyly at the offer
, which she desperately wanted to accept. But staying in Lorenzo’s house after the kiss they had shared would add fuel to a fire that already burned too hot.  “Um, that’s very nice, but…”

“But you don’t feel comfortable staying in my house?” Lorenzo finished.  “I understand.  We haven’t seen each other in a decade.  If you don’t want to stay in my house, there’s also a bedroom above this studio.  I use it sometimes when I’m working on a project late into the night and feel too tired to go home.”

“Oh, would you mind? That’s a great idea!” Coretta enthused, equally relieved for the privacy of the studio bedroom and for the fact that she didn’t have to shell out any cash from her razor-thin budget for a hotel room.

“I’ll take you upstairs now if you’d like to relax for a few hours.  There’s a small washroom with tub too.”

Coretta winced at the mention of a bathtub.  She had adored living in Europe…except for the lack of showers.  She had never gotten used to taking a bath, but she was going to have to start now.

“Great! Thank you!” She said politely.

She followed Lorenzo up a creaking staircase to a small room furnished with only a twin bed and dresser with the wood chipping off of it.

Lorenzo presented the chamber to her with a flush of embarrassment.  “My house is much nicer.  You can change your mind at any time, Coretta,” he offered.

“Thank you, but this is fine for now.  After sitting in that sardine can of a plane seat, this bed will feel heavenly.”

Lorenzo smiled at her appreciatively.  “You haven’t lost your sweetness, Coretta.  You were always the sweetest girl around
, and you still are.”

Coretta’s face lit up, as his compliment confirmed that a decade with Jonathan hadn’t embittered her.  But she was sure that one more day in that callous jerk’s presence would have certainly done the trick. 
Shaking away thoughts of her dreadful ex, Coretta set her purse down on the nightstand and sat on the bed.

Lorenzo forced himself to look away from the woman on his bed and instead walked across the room to dust off some knick-knacks in the corner.  Coretta grinned to herself, fully cognizant that he was making an effort to be a gentleman.  His display of gallantry was even more charming than those cute dimples.

Setting down a candlestick and pointing to a pack of matches, he explained, “It gets dark up here at night.  There’s only that one lamp on the nightstand, and there are no windows.  So, I keep candles around in case I want to read before bed.”

Coretta glanced at the miniature light fixture that perched on the d
ecaying nightstand.  Even in the midday, this room was not cheerful.  She shuddered to imagine how sinister it could look at night without even the moonlight to break the monotony.  She suddenly regretted not taking Lorenzo up on his offer to stay in his house, which surely contained plenty of windows and light.

“Okay, that’s good to know,” she said, masking her fear with a smile.

“I guess I’ll leave you on your own for the afternoon,” he said with thick hesitation as he hovered in the doorway.  “You should get some rest.”

Even though she didn’t want him to go, she
did
need rest.  “Yes, I think a nap would be a good idea.  I couldn’t sleep at all on the plane.”

He stood in the doorway wearing a tense expression.  The man seemed to be inwardly debating whether he should kiss her again…or just leave.  To her disappointment, he decided on the latter.

“Enjoy your nap, Coretta,” he said amiably before turning and walking noisily down the staircase that creaked with every footstep.

Coretta sighed, stretching out full length on the bed and relieving the tension that had coiled in her muscles during the long journey from New York.
  In an attempt to get more comfortable, she unbuttoned her blouse and tossed it on the nightstand.  Disappearing under the thin blanket, she shut her eyes as her mind would not be still.  The crazy chain of events that had led her to Milan haunted her as sleep stubbornly remained elusive.  Coretta tossed on the lumpy mattress, feeling overtired yet restless.  After an hour of replaying Lorenzo’s kiss again and again in her memory, she finally fell asleep.

*****

The knock at the door was loud and insistent.  Coretta snapped awake from a deep, coma-like sleep and stared warily at the closed door.  For a moment, she forgot where she was and had no concept of the hour of the day.  The room was dim and stuffy, making her feel insulated in a restricted way.  The knock became louder as Coretta pulled the blanket up to her neck to hide her partial nudity.

“Coretta, are you awake?” Lore
nzo’s rich, Italian-accented voice inquired from outside the door.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Coretta replied, “Yes, I’m awake. Come in.”

He opened the door and walked a few steps inside, instantly noticing the blanket wrapped protectively around her.  “Oh, I’m sorry, I can come back after you get dressed.”

Coretta wasn’t feeling particularly modest under Lorenzo’s glittering perusal, and she waved a hand at him dismissively as the blanket dropped.  “No, don’t worry.  I just got scared when I heard the knocking.  I thought maybe it was someone else.  But that’s silly.  Who else could it be?”  A disturbing image of Angelo’s
moustached face came to mind as she shivered to recollect how inappropriately he had ogled her.

Lorenzo
was clearly uncomfortable with her semi nudity and looked away.  “No, I’ll come back when you’re dressed.”

“Lorenzo!  I thought Europeans were more open about the human body.”

“Well, I suppose---“ he broke off awkwardly.

“Didn’t you ever take a life drawing class in college?  I lost count of how many nude figures I sketched.”

“Yes, I did actually.  And I have sculpted some nude models.  But---“

“But what?”

“But that was for work, Coretta.  For art.  I think you’re very beautiful, but I don’t want to rush you into anything.  Especially when I have to leave tonight.”

All Coretta heard from his complex statement was the word “beautiful.”  Jonathan had not told her she was beautiful since the very early days of dating when he was still in the pursuit stage.  Hearing the word “beautiful” flow effortlessly from Lorenzo’s lips in his melodious Italian accent was almost too divine.

“Coretta?” He questioned, perceiving a faraway gleam in her eyes.

“Yes?” She murmured.

“I said I have to leave tonight,” he repeated reluctantly.

Coretta bolted back to reality in an instant.  “What do you mean you have to leave?” Her face fell as she spoke.

“While you were napping, I got a call from one of my clients in Umbria.  He and his wife would like to purchase three of my new sculptures that I posted pictures of online.  But he is very old and doesn’t drive anymore.  So I’m going to deliver the sculptures to his doorstep,” Lorenzo explained as Coretta’s face clouded over.