“She has things to sort out.” His intense dark eyes measured her, seeing her quiet beauty that was a replica of their mother’s. “She will be here soon enough. I would like you to show her around and make her confortevole – comfortable.”
“I don’t think we will get along?”
“Why? Because she is an American?”
“That, and that she will never fit in, Piero.” Her dark eyes met his, “I think you know that as well.”
“I know nothing of the sort. All I know is that she is my wife and I want to make sure she is comfortable here.”
“I have a feeling that she feels that she will not belong and that is why she is delaying coming here.” She lifted her hands as he was about to argue and smiled at him. “But I will do my best to show her how things are done and what is required of her. Will she be working?”
He hesitated, unsure if he wanted to share his idea before he had a chance to say it to Lauren. He knew that there was no way she would ever be satisfied with just existing on the various charities like his mother did, so he had devised a plan especially for her.
“I have something in mind for her, but I need to discuss it with her first. If you don’t mind, I would like to turn in for the night.”
She got to her feet gracefully. “I hope it works out Piero, I really mean that.”
He nodded without responding and waited for her to leave before checking his phone, squelching his impatience and disappointment when he realized that she had not responded to his text.
*****
Lauren felt as if she had been running a marathon. She had been at it for the past hour and felt that if she stopped, the demons chasing her would catch up to her. She had not slept well last night - big surprise there! Her husband had gotten in touch with her via a text message – a terse note saying that he had landed and was heading to the corporate office. She had done her research and had seen pictures of the towering glass façade, and she also knew that Sophia Bianchi was one of their top designers which meant that she would be in constant contact with her husband. They would be working closely together; their work would push them even closer and no doubt fan the already combustible flames between them. After reading that shocking editorial, something her husband had deliberately kept from her, she had thought feverishly about packing up and going straight to Rome, but something had whispered insidiously in her ear that even if she was there watching him, it would happen. If they wanted to be together, nothing was going to stop them. So, she had gotten up this morning, and with the absence of the determined reporters who seemed to dog her every movements, she had decided to go for a run.
It was a clear summer morning - one that should have brought out the joy of the season. She could hear the faint chirping of birds and could not help but notice the blooming of the daisies and blueberries growing wild along the route she had taken. It was a back road adjacent to her apartment and afforded a measure of privacy. Redwood trees and giant oak trees with the leaves wafting in the breeze provided a modicum of shade, to which she stuck to mostly. It was early, she had left the apartment at five thirty and even then it had been light out. The long days of summer, she thought whimsically.
Piero had told her a little of his home: the old worldly charms of where he lived, the lush grounds the massive structure he called home which had been standing for hundreds of years. Whenever she thought of Rome, she thought of the Coliseum and the Vatican and told herself that she would be happy living there. If only my husband was in love with me, if only he was not in love with someone else and I was the focus of his attention.
She broke off and stopped, out of breath, the sweat clinging to every part of her body, pasting the matching Lycra outfit and molding it to her body. Bending at the waist, she stretched before leaning against a tree, the rough bark evident against her skin even though the clothing. Her hair was soaked with sweat and with a grimace and she realized that she was going to have to spend almost an hour washing and twisting it - natural hair was more work than people realized. Her thoughts turned back to the problem at hand. She was still considering her parents request for her to come and stay with them for the two weeks, but she had her reason for hesitating. They lived in a quiet and peaceful neighborhood where the neighbors were friendly and talked to each other. Her going there would certainly bring the press there with their hunger and avid curiosity to know more about Piero - the man and she had married after so short a time. One had been bold enough to ask what she had that the other women who had been chasing him for years did not have, how was it that she was the one who had gotten the handsome and incredibly wealthy heir to the staggeringly successful brand to hang up his single life and settle down. She had not responded to the question, not even to tell the asshole to piss off! She was Lauren De Luca now and that meant a certain amount of restraint was required. Taking another deep fortifying breath, she turned and went the other way at a more leisurely pace.
She was just opening the door when she heard her phone ringing and remembered that in her haste to leave the apartment, she had left it on the kitchen counter. Heart beating in irregular beats, she rushed towards it, her pulse skittering when she saw her husband’s name. Calming herself and slowing her heart rate, she touched the green icon to take the call.
“Piero.”
“Hi.” His deep accented voice conjured up memories of him naked in bed with her and her knees buckled, so much so that she had to sit on a stool. “I called you earlier.”
“I just came in from a run.”
“You have not called me, Lauren.”
“You have not called me either.”
“Is this the way it is going to be? Us mad at each other and having this fight? I do not have time for all this. I think that we are, how do you say it, adulto for this kind of childish behavior. Don’t you think so?”
“Are you calling me childish?”
He sighed deeply. “You have this… this tendency to twist my words, no?”
“Can we switch to video call?”
“Si.”
His handsome face with the glossy black hair filled the screen and she drank in his appearance hungrily, her heart thudding.
“You are sweating. There is a sheen on your face. I should be the one bringing out that sheen when making love to you.”
“Piero—”
“Just a second.”
She how he turned to someone and started speaking in his own language. She was concentrating on him so much – the cut of his pinstriped jacket and light pink shirt that it took her a minute to realize who he was talking to. Lauren sucked in her breath as she saw the woman who had confronted her in the hotel lobby the day after her wedding. Sophia Bianchi was wearing a red suit that flattered her complexion and dark hair and she was smiling and placing her hand on Piero’s arm. He ended the conversation and turned back to her. By this time, the anger and jealousy were like twin flames inside her!
“I have a meeting…”
“With her?” Lauren’s dark eyes flashed.
“With the design department.”
“You did not tell me that she worked there, Piero.”
“You did not ask.”
“You son of a bitch.”
“Watch it.” His mouth tightened. “Are we going to have this argument again? It is getting tiresome.”