Under the Sicilian Sky Page 15

  It had been incredible working with Bella, and although they’d both been up until 4:00 a.m. finalizing details, he was now energized and excited.

  “You are what’s stunning,” he said, kissing her on the cheek. She wore another new dress, this one completely conservative in blue polka dots with a ruffle of navy fabric at the neck and hem. Even her red-edged shoes were polka dotted. She’d pulled her hair up into a loose bun at her nape, and an elegant handbag dangled from her elbow. She fit so well into the New York scene, he had a hard time remembering her in jeans and a T-shirt.

  She shrugged off his compliment but kept her hand on his arm as she surveyed the area. “At the last count, one hundred people have RSVP’d to my invite.”

  “You have a hundred friends?”

  “No. I have no clue who most of the replies are. But your photo was very popular. I’ve seen it on several social media sites as trending with the location of tonight’s pop-up party. Don’t be shocked if the one hundred turns into five hundred.”

  “I want people to come to see the pieces, not me.”

  “Darling, if I’d have posted a photo of a vase, you’d have five people here tonight.”

  She’d drawled out the darling like a true New York society diva. He didn’t want her to become one of the brittle people she’d told him about meeting yesterday.

  “How did your lunch go with Kai’s family? Did your parents show?”

  “Lunch was good but brief. Kai and his parents are going to stop by tonight. But not for long because Joy, Kai’s daughter, is sick with a cold. She’s such a sweet little girl. It’s heartbreaking she lost her mother so young. I hope Kai finds love again. He and his daughter deserve happiness.”

  He searched her face, but aside from concern for a friend, there was no longing there. Slipping his arm around her waist, he led her toward the back of the gallery. Had he known he’d have to put on a show, he’d have shipped more pieces over. And unless additional ones arrived on time, what he’d brought would have to do. The crew had spaced them out throughout the area, but it was still rather sparse. He caressed her cheek and searched her eyes. “And your parents, they didn’t come?”

  “No. Kai finally told me that they’ve split. My mother has started working, and my father has shacked up with his mistress of ten years. I’m still wrapping my head around it. My parents had seemed so devoted to each other.”

  “I’m sorry, bellissima.” And now, on top of the news of her parents’ breakup, she had to hang around a party tonight. “If you want to stay in the hotel and not attend this thing, I understand.”

  She gave him a faint smile. “And leave you alone with all those ravenous women desperate for some fresh man-meat? I think not.”

  He kissed her. Let his lips tell her how much she meant to him. He’d have deepened the embrace, but a commotion in the staff-only part of the gallery brought him back to reality. “Sounds like the shipment from London has arrived. I had Farrah send some more samples. I’d better see to their unpacking.”

  “Of course. I’ll let you get to it.”

  Reluctantly he released her, but before he’d taken two steps, he turned back. “Oh, Bella, I almost forgot to remind you. Tonight I’m Mario Barilla. We’d been talking to Saks before I regained my memory, and it just seemed easier to stick with that name than explain the whole amnesia thing.”

  “Until tonight then, Mario.”

  She blew him a kiss and sashayed out the door. The swing of her hips tempted him to follow. Except there was still a shit-load of work to do.

  The days were ticking down on their trial reconciliation; he desperately needed to know that she’d chosen to stay with him. He had a plan that might solve all their problems.

  Tonight, after this stupid party was over, he’d present it to her.

  • • •

  Bella pushed open the gallery door once more and walked into a different world. It even smelled like North Africa. Well, the nice smells anyway: mint, cinnamon, apricots . . . She spied a few discreet diffusers spread around the area. The space had been stunning this afternoon when she’d stopped by. Now it left her speechless. Berber carpets were scattered on the floor, Moroccan lamps hung in the corners. The vases, plates, bowls, and objects d’art that had arrived from London had all been put into position and displayed like the prized treasures they were. To think that women, desperate to put food in their babies’ bellies, scraped together the mud with their bare hands and created such beautiful pieces—it was nothing short of miraculous.

  Almost as amazing as the man who stood against the back wall, staring at her like she was the eighth wonder of the world. Last night, he’d been so preoccupied about hosting this party, she hadn’t spoken to him about returning to Sicily and the farm once his legal problems were sorted. But seeing how her friends turned out had proved to her that she couldn’t just be an executive wife. She had to do something. And more than party planning.

  “It’s after seven and no one’s here,” Matteo said, after a brief kiss on her lips. The tension in his muscles was evident through his suit. Exhaustion sat heavy in his eyes.

  “Relax. No one comes on time to a New York party.” But aside from some of the crew she’d seen earlier in the day, and black-clad wait staff pouring flutes of champagne and arranging trays of canapés, the place was empty. “Where are the Saks people?”

  “They came by earlier to check on things and said they’d be back soon.” His stomach grumbled, echoing through the quiet room.

  “Have you eaten anything today?” she asked.

  “Someone brought me a hot dog from one of those street carts, but I can’t remember if I ate it or not.”

  She nodded. What with wondering if her parents might walk through the Andersens’ door any moment at lunch, she’d barely eaten either. They hadn’t, and she’d wasted a good meal. “We’ll have a late supper when we get back to the hotel.” Provided she could stay awake long enough to eat. City life drained you even if you did nothing.

  “More Chinese?” He winked.

  She flicked a piece of non-existent lint off his lapel. He’d changed clothes, out of his ass-hugging jeans and into his best suit, although she’d convinced him to leave off the tie and open a few buttons to show his chest hair. Nothing like a show of masculinity to get the women in the mood to buy. She ran her fingers through his hair a little, just to make it more interesting. The door opening halted any further improvements.

  “Bella, darling, unhand that man and introduce me,” Tiffany drawled.

  And so it began.

  Within forty-five minutes the place was full, mostly of women, Bella noted with a wry smile. And they were more intent on meeting her husband than bidding on the pieces. It’d been the Saks’s buyer’s idea to have a silent auction. Probably so they’d have a better idea how much people were willing to pay for the items.

  Kai’s parents arrived, giving Bella the perfect excuse to remove Matteo from the clutches of the latest group of women to latch onto him. Her photo invite had seemed a good idea at the time; now it was riling the beast within her.

  “Darling, I want to introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Andersen,” she said, elbowing a fake redhead who was trying to slip her business card into Matteo’s inside pocket.

  “Just so you know, I’m not enjoying this female attention,” he whispered into her hair.

  Yeah, right. But as she’d seen him flash his wedding ring more than once, he wasn’t encouraging the women to fawn all over him. And she’d started it with her photo of him in a towel. She kissed him full on the lips, marking her territory. “As long as you remember who you’re leaving with.”

  “That was never in doubt.”

  Bella glanced around the room. The silent auction table was now as crowded as the display area. This might just work. “Has the Saks’s buyer arrived yet?” Very odd for the person who had insisted on this shindig to not show.

  “I had a text from her five minutes ago saying she’s stuck in traffic. Evident
ly, we should have arranged for valet parking as the whole street is blocked with people trying to get in.”

  “See, I told you it would be a success.”

  He smiled down at her although the tension never left his eyes. She tightened her fingers laced with his and steered him toward the bar area.

  “So, you’re the man who stole our Bella away from us,” Henrik Andersen said by way of introduction.

  “Yes, sir. Once I saw her, there was no way I was letting her go,” Matteo replied.

  “As long as you make her happy,” Hilda, Kai’s mother, added. She didn’t bother with a handshake and went straight for a hug. “Bella’s like a daughter to us.”

  A lump formed in Bella’s throat. Her family might have abandoned her, but she still had people who loved her, including the man at her side. Matteo wrapped an arm around her waist and dropped a kiss on her temple.

  “I’m doing my best, Mrs. Andersen.”

  “Kai didn’t come with you?” Bella asked, looking around for her friend.

  “No, he stayed home with Joy. I was going to babysit, but then I saw the photo of your husband and had to come see for myself.” Hilda gave Matteo the look that only a woman over sixty had time to perfect—the x-ray vision look that said she could see beyond his suit to what lay beneath. And she liked what she saw.

  Kai’s father put an arm around his wife’s shoulders. “And I came to make sure Hilda didn’t stab you in the back, Bella, and try to steal your husband.”

  “As if I’d do that. Stabbing is so vulgar. I’m more of a slow poison type of woman.”

  Bella laughed. The sweet, gentle Mrs. Andersen would never harm a soul. She hoped. “Have you seen the displays?” Bella asked. “Make sure you read the stories of some of the women who created them.”

  “We will,” Hilda replied. “Bella told us what you’re doing with your company, Matteo. We all admire your efforts to help these women make their lives better.”

  “Thank you. Please, allow me to show you my favorite piece,” Matteo said.

  Just then there was a loud crash from the back room. “I’ll go check,” Bella offered.

  She left Matteo to show the Andersens around, and made her way to staff-only area. She smelled the wine before she saw the four cases smashed to pieces, two bewildered catering staff standing over them.

  “We needed more wine,” the older guy said. “More people than expected have shown up.”

  She took a step away from the approaching wine wave. “What are they supposed to do, come lick it off the floor?”

  “It wasn’t stacked properly.” Both men retreated from the disaster like they’d just come across a crime scene and weren’t sure they should touch anything.

  Blame could wait. Without wine, this party would be over before it really began. Bella skirted the growing puddle to see if any remained undamaged. “What’s left?”

  “One case.” Which would last all of ten minutes, based on the current crowd and new arrivals still trying to get in the door.

  “How soon can we get more delivered?”

  “We can’t. This was a last-minute gig. We brought all we had in stock.”

  “Keep the food going around. And only offer drinks to new arrivals. But don’t make a scene. I’ll go buy more wine.” She turned to the younger guy, who looked like he spent more time honing his muscles than his serving skills. “You, come with me.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She sent a quick text to Matteo then searched on her phone for the nearest place that sold alcohol in bulk.

  It took ten minutes to buy the wine and forty-five to get near the gallery again, even using the back-alley entrance. If the buyer wasn’t impressed, she was an idiot.

  Bella dusted off her pants and flung the wrap part of her top back over her shoulder. The outfit had looked so elegant on the mannequin at the store. With the fake gold coins edging the black silk it had a North African vibe to it. It wasn’t very practical, however, for lugging a ton of wine around. And it now clung to her perspiration-damp skin, making it feel like ants were tap dancing down her spine. It wouldn’t get any better once she reentered the gallery either. With the mass of bodies in there, the air-conditioning had all but given up, raising the heat level to North African midafternoon. If they were going for authenticity, they’d nailed it.

  She freshened up her lipstick, praying she looked more alive than she felt, and opened the door into the gallery just in time to see her mother kissing her husband.

  What the hell?

  • • •

  “Your double standards are showing, Mother,” Bella said as she approached.

  Matteo’s hands were at his side, obviously not participating in the embrace but not pushing the older woman aside either.

  “Bella? What are you doing here?” Her mother’s shrill voice turned heads.

  “Right this second, watching you throw yourself at my husband.”

  “This is your husband?”

  “This is your mother?”

  Both spoke at once. Matteo removed her mother’s hand from where it still rested on his chest.

  “Did you remarry?” her mother asked.

  Bella pulled her brows together before remembering. “Mario Barilla and Matteo Vanni are the same man. My man.” She briefly explained about his amnesia. “But that doesn’t account for why you were locking lips with him. Do you go around randomly kissing men these days?” Her mother had always been so reserved. Bella had hardly ever seen her parents show affection in front of her.

  Matteo still looked confused. “How is she your mother? Your last name was Howard before we married. This is Linda Aquilani.”

  “Aquilani is her maiden name. How do you know her?”

  “She’s the Saks buyer I’ve been dealing with the past few months.”

  “Mom?”

  “Well, I had to find something to do when your father decided that banging a woman twenty years younger than him was more important than our thirty-year marriage.”

  “So you thought you’d try the same and make out with Matteo . . . Mario . . . whatever, an obviously married man?”

  “We were celebrating,” her mother replied. “We’ve just had a bid for $5,000 for one of the pieces. And all the others are going way above what we’d even hoped for.”

  “Congratulations.” Her sarcasm was not lost on Linda, who raised one eyebrow in disapproval.

  Bella stared at her parent, waiting for some acknowledgment that the daughter she hadn’t seen in eight years stood in front of her. Linda had dyed her hair a more vibrant shade of brunette, with hints of sienna. There were a few more lines around her eyes, and her mouth still had that pinched look of disapproval Bella remembered oh so well.

  She waited for a warm greeting, like she’d received from Kai’s mom. She waited for an admission that she’d been wrong in opposing her daughter’s marriage. She waited for a smile.

  And got nothing.

  “Mario,” her mother almost purred his name, “it’s time we made a speech and thanked people for coming.”

  “Bella?” Matteo held out his hand to her.

  “We don’t need her.” Linda’s harsh tone stabbed Bella straight through the heart.

  “She’s responsible for half the people here,” Matteo said.

  Bella hadn’t seen him this annoyed since she drove off with Kai and then Cristo.

  “Very well, then.” Linda turned on a heel and moved to the center of the gallery.

  “You go. I’ll stay here. This is your moment,” Bella said when Matteo made no move to follow. She couldn’t stand in front of this crowd with her hands shaking, her knees about to give way, and her throat so dry she almost gagged.

  He didn’t even try to hide his exasperation from her. “We’re a team.”

  “A team?” She forced her voice to remain low so not everyone heard. “A team keeps its players in the loop. They don’t drop bombshells like, ‘by the way, I’ve been schmoozing your mother for the past thre
e months, trying to get her to buy my products.’ Oh. My. God. You did not get back together with me just to try and gain favor with her, did you? Because you can obviously see that was a waste of time.” Her eyes darted around the room. Where was a paper bag when you needed one to breathe into?

  Matteo grabbed her elbow and pulled her to the rear of the gallery away from all the guests. “You don’t really believe that. You’re just blaming me for stuff so you’ll have an excuse to leave me. You love a bunch of dirt and animals more than me.”

  She bit her bottom lip until the pain equaled that in her chest. “The dirt, the animals need me. You don’t. You don’t let me in. You don’t tell me what the lawyer says when he calls. You just want me to stand beside you and be the pretty accessory to your accomplishments.”

  “I didn’t want to upset you. It’s my job to protect you. You never complained before when we were together.” He ran an agitated hand through his hair.

  “When we were first married, I let you princess me because I didn’t know my own strength. Now I do. I won’t be kept in the dark. I won’t be treated like I don’t know what I want or need. Unless you’re willing to treat me like a 100 percent partner, I’m out. I am a woman. A pedestal can’t support me now.”

  He looked like she’d just carved his heart with a serrated blade. The breath he pulled in was ragged. “Bella—”

  A high-pitched squeal preceded a finger tapping on a microphone. Over Matteo’s shoulder, she saw her mother in the middle of the room holding a wireless mic. “Mario, where are you?” The sickening singsong voice made Bella’s skin crawl.

  He closed his eyes for a second and when they opened, determination had replaced the anger. “This conversation is not over,” Matteo said. “We’ll discuss this as soon as I’m done here.”

  He let go of her arm, and if she hadn’t locked her knees together she’d have sunk down to the floor. Get it together, girl. Do not let Mother see you cry.

  Looking like he was king of the universe, Matteo leisurely sauntered to the middle of the room, snagging a glass of wine on the way. When he stood next to Linda, he kept a respectable distance between them.