“Stefano has his own life, dear,” Ruby said, tilting her head. “He doesn’t want mine. We’re close, but I would never cross that line. We respect each other. Sometimes we go to the movies or share a glass of wine and laugh about the past, but that’s it. Good help is hard to find, and so is the position he holds. The situation is ideal for both of us.”
Ruby loved Stefano, but it was a love borne of mutual respect and friendship. He had no remaining family, and she had little, except for Ariana and her mother. She’d made sure to include Stefano in her will and provide for his retirement.
Besides, there had always been someone else in her heart.
Matteo held the rear door open for Ruby, and she slid into the cushy seat, gracefully lifting her legs together and swinging them into the car as her acting coach had taught her so many years ago. One simply didn’t forget those lessons.
While Matteo loaded their luggage in the trunk, Ruby stretched out her legs.
“But you enjoy Stefano’s company,” Ariana said. “That’s a big plus in a marriage.”
Ruby patted Ariana’s hand. “After the passion wanes in a marriage, what remains are companionship, common goals, and family. Or so I’m told.” Ruby opened her purse and slipped on a pair of dark designer sunglasses to shield against the sun and painful memories.
“Do you regret never marrying, Auntie?”
Ruby gazed at Ariana for a long moment. “I had my opportunities.”
Ariana went on. “Like who?”
Ruby sighed. “The son of a rancher who owned an adjoining property in Texas who wouldn’t tolerate my desire for a career of any kind,” she said, ticking off her fingers. “A handsome costar with a hidden alcohol addiction. A younger screenwriter who only wanted me to produce his work.”
“That sounds dismal. Wasn’t there anyone special?”
Oh, yes, Ruby thought, though she shook her head. “There was the sweet physician who looked after me when I got a parasite from a mosquito while filming in a jungle near New Orleans—the same location where the Tarzan movies were filmed. Though he fearlessly nursed me through malaria, Hollywood intimidated him. He opted for a small practice in Mammoth Lakes, California, where he immediately fell in love with his nurse, and they skied the slopes happily ever after.”
None of them compared to what Ruby had felt for Niccolò. But she couldn’t talk about him. Not yet, anyway.
“I wonder if my parents were ever in love.” Ariana opened her purse and withdrew a little pot of lip gloss. “In Mom’s case, it’s just work, work, and more work. I couldn’t believe she wouldn’t arrange time off for my wedding.” She dabbed a glossy sheen onto her lips and pressed them together.
Ruby heard the hurt, anger, and disappointment in Ariana’s voice. Once again, when Ariana needed her mother, Mari wasn’t there. Ruby had hurried to place another call to her before they left Palm Springs, but Mari hadn’t returned her call.
As a child, Mari had been abrupt and unyielding, too. Even Patricia, her sainted sister, had hardly been able to handle the unruly child, yet she took the challenge in stride.
Ruby smiled at Ariana. “Someday, your mother might get another chance to attend your wedding.”
Ariana shook her head. “Not for a long time, if ever. Honestly, I’ve had it with men.”
“There’s a difference between closing your heart and being selective,” Ruby said.
“I’m going to be awfully busy for the next seven months.” Ariana ran a hand over her forehead. “How will I manage everything?”
“Plenty of people do.”
“You never had to.”
Contemplating this, Ruby smoothed a finger over a vein in her hand. “Each of us has a different journey.” She felt Ariana’s quizzical gaze on her. “You’re stronger than you know.”
Matteo shut the trunk and took his place behind the wheel. “Are you in a hurry, Signora?”
“Let’s take the scenic route,” Ruby said, eager to change the subject. “This is my niece’s first visit.” Ruby could feel the energy pulsating in the air. She loved Milan, but the airport was northwest of the city, and her beloved Lake Como awaited them. Another day, she thought.
Ruby eased back in the seat. Once Ariana saw Lake Como and Bellagio—and especially Varenna—she would be in a better frame of mind to receive what Ruby had to share with her. Not right away, of course. Ariana needed a little time to relax and process the twin shocks to her world, although in Ruby’s mind, both were positive.
Phillip gone, check. Baby on the way, double-check.
Ruby rubbed her temple. If only she could figure out a way to bring Mari here, too. It wouldn’t be easy, but it was imperative that Ariana and Mari heal their rift before the baby arrived. Ruby understood the pain of a fragmented family.
“I’d like to visit Milan, too,” Ariana said, peering from the window. “It’s one of the fashion capitals of the world. When a film budget allows, I often order fabric for costumes from a supplier in Milan. They have such beautiful silks.”
“Scusi, Signorina,” Matteo said, glancing in the review mirror. “You’ll find beautiful silk and clothes around Lago di Como, too. Silk production has been a Como specialty for centuries—ever since the Duca de Milano established the silk industry there.”
“Really?” Ariana asked, leaning forward, her expression brightening.
Matteo’s voice rose with pride and passion. “Today, Ratti, Frey, Mantero, and Clerici produce exquisite silk—scarves, clothing, tapestries. Our companies supply the finest silk to the couture trade.” He gestured with pride. “All over the world, there is none better than Como silk.”
“How are you so knowledgeable about fashion?” Ariana asked, looking interested.
“In Como, beauty is part of our heritage. My wife is a talented textile designer,” he said as he pulled away from the curb and into the airport traffic. “And we have a boutique in Bellagio.”
“Then we must visit your shop,” Ruby said. Glancing at her niece, pride swelled in her chest. “Ariana, I still get so many compliments on that black silk cape you designed for me.”
“If you’re a designer, you must visit the production facilities,” Matteo said. “All the best design houses come here. Versace, Missoni, Armani, Prada, and Ferragamo.”
“I’ve been designing costumes for years,” Ariana said, taking in the city as they left the airport. “I work at one of the studios in Hollywood.”
“Like your famous aunt,” Matteo said, navigating through traffic. “I am twice privileged to serve you ladies.”
“I don’t work much anymore,” Ruby said. The rigors of a starring role—and the subsequent promotions and appearance—had become tiring to her. Though she still relished cameo roles and unique opportunities. She’d invested her earnings well; now, she worked for pleasure. She patted Ariana’s knee. “But Ariana could be anything she wanted to be.”
“Aunt Ruby, don’t be silly,” Ariana said, bristling at the comment. “I’m not ten years old anymore.”
“My advice hasn’t changed. Your job will be awfully demanding with a little one.” Ruby quickly changed her tone. “Not that you couldn’t manage, of course. Your mother certainly did. But maybe there is a more pleasant way of living.”