Home > Death in Florence (A Year in Europe—Book 2)(6)

Death in Florence (A Year in Europe—Book 2)(6)
Author: Blake Pierce

Maybe it wasn’t.

After all, she’d told the kids where she was off to next. Maybe Vidal simply had to show up here, with him, to flaunt their relationship in her face. Maybe this was all a young woman’s insane jealousy, rearing its ugly head. Not that she had anything to be jealous of. In the fight for Evan’s heart, the young strumpet had won. Hands-down.

Did Vidal actually have something in her head besides air? Diana had to wonder.

“Yes. It’s crazy. And really nice running into both of you. Best of luck on the upcoming nuptials. But I do have to go. I have an . . . engagement that I’m late for,” she lied, taking a step back and ramming into a man wheeling a cart of gelato down the street. She jumped forward, embarrassed. Ow. That would probably leave a bruise on her backside.

Evan continued, undaunted. He reached a hand out for her, which she quickly snatched away before he could make contact. “But later tonight? We were going out for a celebratory dinner at one of the best restaurants in town. Why don’t you come along?”

Diana’s eyes widened with visions of angry hornets attacking her from all sides. “Uh, no. Really, I just got into town and . . .”

“Oh, come on, Di. I insist! We should all be together.”

We should? What is this, some warped version of Three’s Company? Diana’s eyes shifted to Vidal. Vidal’s nostrils flared in a bit of a sneer, as if she wanted Evan to shut up almost as much as Diana did. She wrapped her claw-like arms around his arm, clutching it possessively, blinking her false eyelashes rapidly. “Honey, she said n—”

“Oh. I forgot to tell you. Lily and Bea will be there. So when I said all of us, I meant, all of us. One big, happy family. Me and all my girls!”

“I’m sorry. What did you just say?” Diana couldn’t hide her shock. He had to be pulling her leg. She was closer to her daughters than he was. Naturally, since they had that mother-daughter bond. She’d been in touch with them only a couple days ago, and nowhere, no how, had it been mentioned that either of them would be flying out to Italy.

He nodded. “It’s true.”

Okay, yes, maybe it had been a bit longer than a few days. She’d gotten a few messages from them, but hadn’t actually spoken to either of them, because she’d been so busy shuttling from one place to the next. Now, with her phone missing, she’d never know what those messages said.

Still, the more she mulled this new information, the surer she became that her ex was off his rocker. Lily was pregnant, and could never get away from her real estate business, and Bea had a busy schedule, teaching ESL in Japan. No way could they drop everything to be on their way to Florence right now for some celebratory dinner for a marriage they both thought was absolutely ridiculous. She was sure of it. “It can’t be. I don’t believe you.”

He laughed, obviously pleased with himself for giving her this shock of her life. Funny, when they were married, he’d been so level. So predictable. He wasn’t one to jet off to Florence or give her any surprises, ever. “What do you need me to do, produce them? They’re coming on a flight later this afternoon. I convinced them, last-minute. Paid their way and everything. I know how much they work and wanted to give them some time off, to be with family . . .”

She fisted her phone in her hand. Had she known their numbers, she could . . .

“You could call them,” Evan said, grinning. “If that thing works for actual phone calls?”

The more she stood there, waiting for him to tell her he was joking, the less likely it became. He had no motive for joking. Actually, Even didn’t have much of a sense of humor at all.

So that meant only one thing . . .

He was telling the truth.

Her stomach sank. Not because she wouldn’t have loved to see her kids again. She wanted to, of course. Yes, this trip was for her, so she could find herself, but she did miss them. But having to navigate a dinner with Vidal in order to do it? It hurt. Like a dagger, right to her chest.

So she did what she’d always done, all twenty-eight years of their marriage. She took a deep breath, straightened her spine, smiled, and sucked it up.

She checked the display on her phone. It was getting late. If she wanted to do dinner with them, she’d probably have to get back to the hotel right away. “All right. What time?”

 

 

CHAPTER FIVE

 

 

Diana stood in the gorgeous, antique fruitwood full-length mirror, surrounded by her beautifully romantic hotel room, and smoothed her simple travel frock down over her hips. She cocked her hip and attempted her sexiest, most come-hither pose.

Her shoulders slumped. I look like a total frump.

Surroundings like these demanded a romantic, flowing dress, with lots of lace and layers. They demanded something other than what Diana had packed into her small carry-on suitcase. The dressiest thing she’d brought with her was this—a simple black wrinkle-free dress with no frills. She’d told herself that if she needed anything fancier, she’d go shopping for it, but after leaving Evan and Vidal giggling over the diamond necklace he was buying her to match the rock on her finger, she hadn’t been in the mood.

She fixed a couple of simple gold hoops to her ears, fluffed her hair, and applied some deep red lipstick. Not that it helped, but at the moment, she didn’t really care.

The main object of the game tonight: Get through it as quickly as possible.

At least she’d have Lily and Bea there. But still, as she grabbed her purse and headed downstairs, every fiber of her being wanted to drag her back up to her room and bury herself under the comforter.

There was only one way to get through this: alcohol.

Diana headed to the downstairs bar, overlooking the vineyard, and ordered a Chianti. It was empty there, so she took her glass to the outdoor patio, to enjoy the warm weather. At least one good thing could come out of this nightmare night. After tonight, she’d distance herself from the happy couple and resume her vacation, on her own terms. Who knew? Maybe Bea or Lily would want to go shopping or see the sights with her while they were in town. That would be nice.

As she drained her glass and looked over the vineyards, the dark grapes sagging on their vines, heavy with juice, a calm settled over her. She’d get through it, just like she got through everything in life—with dignity and grace. Don’t worry about it. Tomorrow, you can have fun.

“Methinks the lady doth protest too much,” a man suddenly said behind her.

For a moment, Diana thought the words were directed at her, but then she realized a young couple was sitting there, not far from her. The woman, her hair in braids, making her look younger than her years, was probably about Bea’s age. She pouted. “I’m serious, Dan. I don’t want to go to Verona. It looks awful. I thought you were going to take me to the beach. That’s what you promised.”

“I will, but I also thought . . .”

“No! I don’t want to go to some stupid Shakespeare Festival in the mountains. You’re ruining everything. And on my first trip to Italy.”

Diana snorted. She hoped she hadn’t raised her girls to be such brats. The poor man was obviously just trying to please his girlfriend. And Verona? Who wouldn’t want to see Verona? The home of Romeo and Juliet? It was another place on Diana’s bucket list. It must be terribly romantic.

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