The Symbolon (18 page)

Paolo hadn’t asked for her address or what she would like to do. Still, the intercom rang at precisely six p.m. She didn’t let him into her building. In fact, she didn’t even answer the intercom. Instead, she came down the stairs and met him outside. Paolo was dressed immaculately in designer silk pants and a button down light blue shirt, opened at the collar. She, on the other hand, wore her yoga pants, a T-shirt covered by Alex’s gray jacket, and flip-flops, with her hair in a ponytail. He had flowers for her. She knew her flowers and this was a very expensive and beautiful design. She momentarily appreciated them then shrugged and tossed them into the trash can on the street.

The car took them to a nearby marina on the Upper West Side. He offered his hand to help her out of the limo. She completely ignored his hand and stepped around him, avoiding eye contact.

“I thought we would go out on my yacht.” There was a forty-five-foot sailboat named “The Isabella” in the marina. “I named it for you.”

“I don’t like the water,” she said flatly
. “And that’s not my name.”

Paolo ignored her comments. “I think you will like this, bella. It is a beautiful evening.”

Shaking her head, she muttered, “It’s just one down, twenty-three to go.” She boarded the yacht.

“Bella,
three months, two dates per week is twenty-seven.” He lifted an eyebrow. “I expect you to pay in full!” he said.

Her eyes narrowed; she knew the math. “Understand that the bargaining points are as discussed. There is no contract that includes physical contact.”

The yacht pulled out into the Hudson and she had to admit that the temperature was delightful on the water.

“We will eat now, I think,” he commanded.

She sat at a table in the rear of the yacht that was set with white linens and china; a man in a white-tailed tuxedo brought out a bottle of fine wine. She was repulsed by just the idea that she was on Paolo’s yacht. She tapped her fingers anxiously on the table.
Would this evening ever end?
Oh, how she wanted to be any place but here! Still, the results were that she would get to see Alex. She had to keep her mind on the prize!

Paolo nodded at the label on the wine and the server opened it smoothly. Just as Paolo was about to taste the wine, Valeria’s face suddenly lit up
. “May I see the bottle?” she asked the server.

“Bella, I did not realize you were a connoisseur.” He nodded to the server to show Valeria the bottle.

Eyeing the label for a moment, she said, “Nice vintage.” Not that she would know a good vintage from a bad one. Frankly, she didn’t even know what a vintage was—except she had heard Alex say that occasionally.

Then
, to the server’s horror, she took the bottle from him. Taking a quick swig from the bottle, she rose and lumbered down the stairs, through the interior hallway, opening each door until she had located the bathroom. She glanced back, expecting to see Paolo raging; instead, saw that he was actually shaking his head in amusement. He wouldn’t be so amused after she spent the rest of the cruise in there! She locked the door and swigged the wine, feeling quite pleased with herself! It was just the sort of thing David, her ex-boyfriend, and the rest of his diplomatic crowd, would describe as vulgar. After ten minutes, Paolo knocked on the door.

“Bella…”

“Don’t call me that!”

There was a beat and then he said, “
Valeria, is it all right if I call you that?”

She thought about it for a while. She really wanted to say,
Don’t call me anything! As a matter-of-fact, don’t call me at all!
But instead, after a few moments, she said softly, “Okay.”

“Valeria, we are moving into the harbor. I thought you would like to eat while we circle Liberty Island. We can stop there if you like…or perhaps you would like to see Ellis Island?”

“I prefer the company in here.”

“Valeria, if you stay in there you will be seasick.”

“I’ll take my chances,” she retorted and rolled her eyes as she took another swig.

He sighed, “Bell—Valeria, you are not spending the evening with me
. If you stay in there the rest of the night, I cannot count this as part of our agreement.”

Immediately
, she opened the door and pushed past him. “Alright,” she sighed deeply, and then turned to him, lifting an eyebrow. “Do I owe you an additional ten minutes? Or can we count your invasion of my privacy earlier today?” He began to answer but she turned away from him and continued to the deck. “And while we are at it, are there any other rules I should know about?” She walked past the elegantly set table to a cushion on the back corner of the yacht and sat down.

The yacht circled the Statue of Liberty and
, looking back across the blue harbor, she could see the deep green of Battery Park and, further north, the skyscrapers of Manhattan. It really was quite magnificent. Valeria had drunk less than a quarter of the bottle when she asked for a bottle of water. Paolo instructed the crew to serve dinner. Valeria’s sat untouched.

“The sea bass is delicious. You really should try it, Valeria
,” he took another bite of his dinner, “especially if you insist on drinking heavily.”

She had eaten before they left so that she would not be forced to eat while looking at him. “Don’t worry
; I may get drunk, but not drunk enough to ever forget who you are and what you did.”

The cruise ended with Valeria refusing to eat any of the food that Paolo’s staff had prepared. Despite that, he continued to be gracious. He took her home in the limo and even walked her to her door where she put her hand out toward his chest, holding him at arms distance. “Trust
me, you don’t want to try anything with me!” He sighed as he nodded and took a step back from her.

“I plan to pick you up at seven a.m. tomorrow.”

Valeria looked at him as if he was insane. “It’s two dates a week and you need to schedule it with me in advance!”

“Can I see you tomorrow morning at seven a.m.?”

She thought about it. The faster the subsequent twenty-six dates were over and done with, the sooner she could see Alex! She shrugged. “I may as well get it over with and then I don’t have to see you the rest of the week. But I want this clear—I am not spending all day with you. Maximum date length is four hours.”

“Five hours. Seven a.m. tomorrow?”

Valeria shrugged again before turning to run up the flight of stairs, quickly unlocking her door. She flew into her flat and slammed the door shut, as if blocking out her memories, and then threw the deadbolt. Leaning against the door for a moment, she fought the mounting emotion. She went to her bed, her eyes filled with tears. “Alex, where are you?” she choked.

She arose at six to go for an early morning run and by seven she was showered and dressed in sweats. He picked her up and had coffee
waiting for her in the limo, but she refused—a first for her, especially considering that she had barely had one cup, let alone the two cups that she allowed herself each morning.

They drove to a field in New Jersey where hot air balloons were being filled. Her heart lurched
; the memory of her only time in a hot air balloon flooded into her mind and, for a moment, she allowed her memory to take her back to Venice. She bit her lip hard to keep from crying.
How could she balloon with Paolo?
Hiding behind her sunglasses, she turned her head to look out the window in attempted nonchalance, knowing that her nose had turned red from the threat of tears.

It was a beautiful morning but Valeria remained in the limo, studying her cell phone
as if there was something on it that was actually of interest to her. When Paolo came to join her, she got out and engaged a group from another balloon in conversation.

Once they were ready to launch, she climbed into the basket, with Paolo behind her
; as the balloon rose, the pilot offered her some champagne. She took the bottle, thanked him, and slid down to sit on the floor of the basket so that she couldn’t see anything. She would not, and could not, enjoy the view with Paolo. She didn’t want to remember the last time she had been in a balloon. Sitting, she could concentrate on the bottle…and that’s all. She would never permit herself to enjoy anything with him.

Two days later
, a messenger delivered an invitation for the following week, Wednesday at six in the evening. Valeria marked it, “Okay, that will be three down, twenty-four left,” and sent it back.

They went to dinner at an outdoor restaurant near Battery Park, called Gigino’s
, with an extraordinary view of the harbor. Valeria wore jeans and a T-shirt this time.

As soon as they were seated the waiter asked if they would care for a bottle of wine and Paolo tilted his head to the side
. “The lady typically prefers her own bottle. Valeria, would you care for a glass this evening?” He raised his eyebrows, with a glint of humor in his eyes.

Slightly embarrassed, Valeria rolled her eyes to the waiter, as if she didn’t know what Paolo was talking about. “Of course, I would like a glass.” Then she bit her lip lightly and hid behind her menu.

Paolo ordered a bottle of wine and when it arrived, she heard the waiter say, “2002 Ladera Cabernet.”

Her heart froze; it was her favorite wine from Alex’s collection. “No. Please…can we have something else?”

The waiter had already begun to open the expensive bottle of wine. Paolo eyed Valeria for a moment. “Certainly. I apologize. Valeria do you have a preference?”

She pulled the menu up higher and shook her head, unable to speak for a moment. Paolo spoke to the waiter, “Please take this bottle back. Valeria, would you care to try the 2008 Louis Martini Cabernet?” She offered a nearly imperceptible shrug, still hiding behind the menu.

During dinner, he allowed her the space to recover, and while she appreciated it, it would have been much easier if he had been a jerk. By the time their coffee had arrived, she had completely recovered and decided it was time to further antagonize him.

Four men were seated behind her, and she turned around to talk to them. As soon as she turned, the men began flirting with her, and she shamelessly flirted back
. She even scooted her chair closer to theirs, while Paolo just watched pleasantly and sipped his coffee.

The men bought her a pomegranate martini and she sipped it gratefully. It was good! She even offered two of the men her phone number, telling them she would go out with whoever called first after she left
. Of course, she gave them both the wrong number. Except for Alex, Valeria had never flirted before, and it made her feel ridiculous.

A Latino band began playing in the park next to them. The food had been very good and the music fantastic. Paolo asked her if she wanted to listen to the band and Valeria sighed as if bored, but the fact was that they were great. With the sun setting, the first stars and planets bejeweled the sky next to the crescent moon as the sky was painted with brilliant purples and blues with just a hint of yellow, orange
, and red. She sipped her martini as a masted yacht strung with colorful lights cruised toward Liberty Island, just as she and Paolo had done only nights before. It was breathtaking and she found it interesting that in all of her years in Manhattan, she had never been down here to enjoy this. The wonderful smells of the food filled the air along with the Latin music. Couples began to salsa to the band, while families played on the lawn beside them. She found herself enjoying the evening despite her insistence that she would not.

The next
day he took her on a private backstage tour of Wicked and then they attended the musical in box seats. Valeria found that she was embarrassed to be in her jeans. Afterward, they went to Sardi’s and had champagne and hors d’oeuvres.

She refused the next several requests, saying that she was busy. Although she realized that each date brought her closer to Alex, she didn’t want to be enjoying herself.
Where was Alex?
Didn’t he love her anymore? Had he moved on? Maybe he had reunited with Kristiana.

The following week, Paolo invited her to lunch at Tavern on the Greene. Valeria agreed, but said that she would meet him there. When she arrived, Paolo was wearing jeans and a silk shirt. She was dressed in slacks and a blouse. She wore her hair down and had actually put on a bit of makeup. They sat outside in the beautiful garden setting.

Paolo’s eyes sparkled. “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks.” She shrugged without meeting his eyes.

After they had eaten lunch, Paolo seemed particularly excited. “Bella—Valeria, I have something for you. I hope you like it.” He smiled nervously.

Gifts from Paolo…as if they would mean anything to her! She shrugged, knowing she would reject it as soon as he presented it to her. Still
, surprisingly, she had witnessed a vulnerability in him with this gift and she didn’t want to be cruel; and, to her own shock, she realized that she didn’t want to hurt him. Paolo had taken whatever cruel comment she had thrown at him and responded with kindness and consideration; well,
except for the part
where he had destroyed her life and taken any piece of happiness she might ever have, and threatened the lives of everyone she truly loved!
Aside from that
, he was starting to grow on her. Despite it all, she knew that she would reject this gift. There was only one purpose to all of this…
to see Alex!