Lake Como (7 page)

“I was so young.” Francesca shrugged. “Sophia was a tyrant and Pliny did whatever she said. It seemed like a fairy tale but it became a nightmare. You and Peter are both bright professionals, you want the same things.”

Hallie thought about how her married friends were buying houses in Pacific Heights. They hosted dinner parties with their new crystal and silverware. She didn’t want to be the only couple with different last names and separate checking accounts.

“I want to believe him.” Hallie’s mind flashed on Peter standing on the sidewalk outside Gary Danko.

“Don’t decide tonight.” Francesca squeezed Hallie’s hand. “I’ll move some boxes in your old room. Everything will be clearer in the morning.”

Francesca led Hallie to the small bedroom, which was piled with cake boxes of every shape and color. Hallie put on a pair of her mother’s pajamas, the legs too short and the top barely covering her midriff. She climbed into bed, hoping when she woke up it would all have been a bad dream.

chapter four

Hallie paid the cab and stood at the entrance of their apartment building. The fog had cleared and the city was bathed in warm morning light. Summer was everywhere: rose bushes bloomed on the sidewalk; women drank iced espressos; and children licked chocolate ice-cream cones. Hallie gazed at the bay, watching the boats slide along the glass surface.

Hallie had woken up and pulled on a pair of leggings and a T-shirt she found in the closet. Her mother had left a pot of coffee, two slices of toast, and a note apologizing for not having more food. Hallie sat at the bay window, her feet cold on the wood floor. She missed Peter’s eggs, the wet kiss he planted on her lips as he ran out the door.

Hallie entered the building and climbed three floors to their apartment. Peter lay on the purple sofa, dressed in slacks and a crumpled white shirt. His shoes were tossed under the coffee table, and his suit jacket was draped over a chair. His eyes were closed and he had new stubble on his chin.

“Hi.” Hallie closed the front door quietly.

Peter’s eyes flew open as if he’d been shot. “Christ, Hallie. I waited up all night.”

“I texted you that I was going to stay at my mother’s.” Hallie sat on the low orange chair opposite him.

“I couldn’t sleep in our bed without you.” Peter rubbed his chin. He had circles under his eyes and his cheeks were pale.

“I talked with my mother,” Hallie began.

“Nothing happened with Kendra,” Peter interrupted. “Not at the wedding and not at lunch.”

“I’m not interested.” Hallie shook her head.

Peter stood up and smoothed his shirt. He brushed his hair with his hands and kneeled on the rug. “Maybe I shouldn’t have proposed at dinner, maybe I should have buried the carpet in rose petals and proposed here.”

“Peter.” Hallie tried to get up, but Peter grabbed her hand and pulled her down in the chair.

“You left this at the restaurant.” Peter took the ring out of his pocket and slipped it on Hallie’s finger.

Hallie glanced at the clear diamond, the deep red rubies. She could keep the ring snug on her finger, and call Constance to announce the good news. She could make appointments at bridal salons and floral designers and calligraphers. She only had to nod and the future would roll out like a red carpet.

“I can’t wear it yet.” Hallie pulled it off her finger.

“What do you mean ‘yet’?” Peter asked.

“I need time to think.” Hallie tried to sound confident.

“I love you and I want to spend my life with you.” Peter squeezed her hand. “We’re going to wake up every morning and have hot sex and eat waffles and read
The New York Times.
”

“I talked to Portia this morning.” Hallie stood up and walked to the balcony. “Sophia wants her to take Riccardo back. Portia said the only way she wants to see Riccardo is pulled apart limb for limb by wild horses.”

“Portia sounds like someone you don’t want to cross,” Peter replied.

“I’m going to Lake Como; I’m going to spend August with her.”

Peter frowned. “I can’t take time off now. Jim’s fears have made the other investors anxious. I need to score a major interview to calm their nerves.”

“What about Frank Marshall?” Hallie asked.

“Not big enough.” Peter grimaced. “I’ve got an inside track at Apple. They haven’t given an interview since Steve Jobs died. No one knows what goes on in there; it’s like a black hole. I have a guy who’s ready to talk, I just need to loosen him up a little.”

“Like Deep Throat,” Hallie murmured. “I’m going to Lake Como alone.”

“Let’s go to Como next year on our honeymoon,” Peter suggested. “We’ll feed the pigeons in Venice and eat pasta Alfredo in Rome.”

“I need to get away.” Hallie glanced at the rug. She thought Peter’s eyes saw through her like an X-ray.

“You said Kendra wouldn’t let you have a day off,” Peter exclaimed. “How can you jet off to Europe for a month?”

“Kendra has been courting Charlotte Schulz and Dede Wilsey for months. Constance is having lunch with them at the Mark Hopkins on Wednesday. I was going to ask Constance to put in a good word.”

Peter let her words sink in. His body was rigid and his eyes flashed. “Nothing happened! Kendra’s not even a woman; she’s a robot in a skirt and heels.”

Hallie kept her shoulders back the way she had learned in ballroom dancing lessons when she was twelve. She walked over to Peter and handed him the ring.

“I just need some time.”

Peter put the ring in his pocket. He grabbed Hallie’s hand and kissed her fingers. He pulled her close and kissed her neck. He slid his hand under her T-shirt and rubbed her nipples.

Hallie felt as if her body was lit by a match. She kissed him back, tasting the familiar flavor of his mouth, the scent of cologne mixed with sleep. Peter pulled her down on the sofa, rolling off her leggings and tugging at her panties. He stripped off his shirt and slacks and lay beside her.

Hallie felt her body meld into his. She felt his mouth on her breasts, his fingers probing, teasing, making her wet. She held on to his back, opening her legs, wanting him to fill her up. But he waited, digging his fingers deeper inside her, watching her rise and peak and shudder. Finally he climbed on top of her and pushed so deep she thought she would break. They came together, moaning, whimpering, holding each other, exchanging kisses and trickles of sweat.

Peter turned on his side and draped his hand over Hallie’s breasts. Hallie felt her heart beat under his touch; his thigh rubbing against hers. She glanced at the photographs over the fireplace and her portrait on the wall. She wriggled off the sofa and pulled on her clothes.

Hallie slid open the glass doors and stood on the balcony. It was noon and the street was full of people on their lunch break. She watched women carrying cartons of salad, hurrying back to boutiques and galleries. She saw men in shirts and slacks eating slices of pizza and drinking cans of Coke. She saw a couple holding hands, sharing a cup of gelato.

Hallie walked inside. She went into the small study and turned on the computer. She clicked on Alitalia and searched flights. She chose a flight to Rome, continuing to Milan. She entered the numbers of her credit card and clicked
BUY
.

*   *   *

Hallie walked briskly down Fillmore Street, checking her reflection in a shop window. Kendra would be livid that she took the morning off and furious that she intended to go to Italy. Hallie wore a camel-colored cashmere dress with a brown Gucci belt and matching pumps. She couldn’t show any weakness or Kendra would have her sweeping the back room, promising not to take another day off until Christmas.

“Hallie!” Kendra looked up from arranging silk pillows on a velvet daybed. “I’ve been calling your phone all morning. I’m leaving for Tahoe tomorrow and there are a million things to do. I need you to pick up some fabric swatches from Britex and stop by Floramor and get one of those gorgeous wreaths.”

“I have to talk to you,” Hallie said, tapping her fingers on a Chippendale rolltop desk.

“You cannot take another morning off.” Kendra moved around the store, smoothing fabrics and plumping pillows. “I’m relying on you to keep the store running smoothly while I’m away.”

“Peter proposed last night,” Hallie replied. She kept her voice calm but her hands were shaking.

“That’s wonderful!” Kendra barely paused, pulling stems from a bunch of yellow roses. “Let me see the ring.”

“I thought you’ve seen it,” Hallie said icily. “Peter said he asked your opinion.”

“I want to see it on your finger,” Kendra replied. “He was so concerned that you love it. You struck gold with Peter. There aren’t many men who are successful and sensitive.”

Hallie’s shoulders relaxed. She glanced at her reflection in the gilt mirror. Her cheeks were dusted with powder, and she wore thick mascara and shimmering eye shadow. She had pulled her hair back with a gold clip and doused herself in Obsession.

“I haven’t given Peter an answer yet.” Hallie eyed Kendra carefully. “Portia’s husband left her. I’m going to Lake Como to spend some time with her.”

“You’re doing what?” Kendra stopped dusting silver candelabras. “We’ve got deliveries all month and I’m going to be buried in Patsy’s new place. You’ll have to babysit some of my clients and run the store.”

“I’ll be in Lake Como for August,” Hallie continued. “I’ll be home on Labor Day.”

“If you and Peter had a lover’s quarrel, work it out on your own time,” Kendra snapped. “I need you in the store every day.”

“Did I mention Constance is having lunch with Charlotte Shulz and Dede Wilsey on Wednesday? Dede is about to choose a designer to do her house in Napa,” Hallie said. “It’s thirty-thousand square feet with a private gym and championship tennis courts.”

Kendra ran her long French-manicured nails over a Fabergé jewelry box. The muscles in her neck tightened but her expression remained calm. “I’ve been dying to go on a buying trip to Italy. So many ancient families are strapped for cash and are selling off the family treasures. You could do some buying while you’re in Italy; pick up some bolts of silk from Milan and glass in Murano.”

“That’s a wonderful idea.” Hallie matched Kendra’s smooth tone. Her stomach tightened as if she was on an elliptical machine.

“I’m glad that’s settled.” Kendra resumed straightening magazines. “I’ll ask Stefan if one of his artists can mind the store. They don’t know much about interior design, but they look good with the furniture.”

“I’ll make a list of deliveries I’m expecting for Libby Taylor’s house.” Hallie walked to the backroom. “I’ll be accessible by e-mail and phone.”

“Let me know if you’d like me to do anything while you’re gone,” Kendra called. “Water your plants, bring in the newspaper.”

Hallie felt a chill run up her spine. She turned to Kendra and smiled graciously. “That’s very thoughtful, but Peter is perfectly capable.”

*   *   *

Hallie rang the doorbell of Constance’s house, desperate for something cold to drink. The afternoon in the store had been interminable; she and Kendra moved like jousters playing an invisible fencing match. Kendra issued endless instructions and Hallie flinched as if she was ducking blows. Now and then Hallie looked up from her paperwork to see if she could read Kendra’s expression, but her face was as inscrutable as a Chinese warrior.

“Hallie!” Constance beamed. “What a pleasure to see you twice in one week. I was fixing a gin and tonic.”

“Where’s Louisa?” Hallie stepped into the marble foyer.

“I sent her to buy
Vanity Fair,
” Constance replied. “Dr. Michaels disapproves of my evening cocktail, so I have to invent reasons for Louisa to leave the house.”

“Outsmarting your doctor isn’t the way to get well,” Hallie said, smiling.

“He shouldn’t make my own employee spy on me,” Constance huffed. She wore a beige wool skirt and a yellow silk shirt. “Why don’t you go into the kitchen and open a jar of macadamia nuts? Dr. Michaels won’t let me near them.”

Hallie walked to the kitchen, pausing at the twelve-foot double doors. If she had to choose a favorite room in Constance’s house, it would be the kitchen. When she was a girl she sat at the long oak table, her head in a copy of
Persuasion
, and imagined the room full of maids scrubbing potatoes and shining silverware. The floors were polished stone and the counters were creamy marble. A fireplace took up one wall and French doors opened onto a vegetable garden.

“Is that a Lanvin?” Constance pointed at Hallie’s dress when she walked back into the salon. “Cashmere is such a clever choice for summer in San Francisco, and the cut is sublime.”

Hallie sipped the gin and tonic. She rarely drank during the week and it tasted strong and bitter. “I talked to Francesca last night.”

“Did you convince her to go to Como?” Constance asked, nibbling a macadamia nut.

“I’m going to Lake Como,” Hallie replied.

“I thought Kendra had you chained to the store.” Constance raised her eyebrows.

“I’m going to buy some things for the store while I’m there,” Hallie said, scooping up macadamia nuts.

“Then it’s a wonderful idea.” Constance smiled. “You and Peter can explore the lake. Show him Villa del Balbienello, it’s one of my favorite spots.”

“Peter’s not going,” Hallie murmured. “He’s busy with
Spilled
.”

“You’re leaving your job and your boyfriend?” Constance frowned.

“Peter and Kendra can manage without me for a month,” Hallie replied lightly.

“Peter has been dropping hints all summer.” Constance poured another gin and tonic. “How is he going to propose if you’re on the other side of the ocean?”

Hallie fiddled with her drink. She had never lied to her grandmother. When Hallie was thirteen and Constance discovered a dog-eared
Cosmopolitan
in her backpack, Hallie was tempted to say it belonged to a friend. But she saw Constance’s expression, stern and regal as Queen Elizabeth, and confessed she had bought it at a newsstand.

“Peter proposed last night,” Hallie said.

“I must call Reverend Xavier at St. Dominic’s,” Constance exclaimed, walking over to the house phone. “Dates in June fill up so quickly.”