by James, Delta
“But it is. Some guy wants to shower you with gifts and make your stay in Florence as incredible as he can...”
“Oh, my God, he got to you. Who is he?” Catherine said, stomping her foot and exasperated as she’d ever been in her life.
“I have no idea. Truly. But your bill was settled this morning with a note that if you extend your stay I just have to let the bank know.”
“Oh, and at the Uffizi? I was offered a personal guided tour by the director of the damn museum...”
“Whoa. Money and clout.”
“Yes, the director there referred to him as a patron. Okay, this guy wants to spend money on me? What’s the most expensive restaurant in Florence?”
“I don’t know if it’s the most expensive, but it’s way out of my price range and is considered to be one of the best restaurants in Florence. Enoteca Pinchiorri. But reservations are made way in advance... maybe your last night here?”
Catherine pulled out her cell phone and found the number. “Yes? Hi, this is Catherine Livingston. I’d like one of your best tables for my friend and me... say in an hour? [pause] You can accommodate us? That’s so kind. We’ll see you then. [pause] Would we like you to send a car for us? Even better.” And Catherine gave him the address.
A vintage Rolls Royce pulled up about forty-five minutes later. Catherine and Sera went out and were ushered into the car.
“Do me a favor?” asked Sera.
“Sure.”
“Stay forever? I could get used to this.”
Catherine laughed. “Tomorrow let’s go look at that espresso machine.”
They spent an enjoyable evening and as promised the food had been sublime. The chef came out to greet them and the wait staff made sure they wanted for nothing. Both Sera and Catherine made sure to express their gratitude for the food and service before they left.
“That may be the best meal I’ve ever had anywhere in the world,” said Catherine as they exited the restaurant.
Catherine found the next day that again her money was no good. It was maddening, frightening, and amusing all at the same time. The breadth of his reach was mind-boggling. Several times, she would feel something she could only describe as a rumble waft over and through her. The first few times, it was disconcerting to say the least. But the more often it happened, the more comforting she found it.
As Catherine returned to Sera’s place, her arms laden down with food she planned to make for Sera, Catherine looked up to see Sera grinning at her and waving a small envelope.
“Look what came for you! And my new espresso machine arrived. Thanks for that. Give me some of these groceries and let’s get them put away. You know you don’t have to do this.”
“Oh, I didn’t pay for them. Seriously—got up to the grocer to pay and was told there was no need. Can’t pay at a restaurant so if I want to express my gratitude I have to let whoever he is buy the groceries, but at least I can cook it. I can cook it, right? He didn’t send some master chef over to do it for me, did he?”
Sera laughed. “Not yet. You’ll have to talk to him about that.”
“I’d like to talk to him about a lot of things. The main one being what does he expect from me in return?”
Sera tapped the envelope on the counter. “Well, maybe if you open this you’ll get some answers.”
Catherine crossed over and took the envelope. “Handmade paper. Very nice. And if I’m not mistaken this is pen and ink, not a ballpoint pen.”
Catherine took a knife, carefully opened the letter, and removed the paper within. In beautiful handwriting that almost bordered on calligraphy, Catherine read:
Catherine,
I apologize that my work has kept me from your side. I hope I have been
able to provide you with a glimpse of all that our life together has to offer you.
Florence is only the beginning.
I will send a car for you this evening. The driver will bring you back to the
Uffizi where I have arranged for a private dinner.
Marco
Catherine handed the note to Sera.
“Marco? Like I know who the fuck Marco is? This country is littered with Marcos,” she said, exaggerating the last word.
Sera laughed. “Catherine, honey, he’s been described as a patron and a benefactor and seems to have a ton of money. With those credentials, there is only one Marco. Don’t look now, but I’d bet every dime I have that you’re being courted by none other than Marco DeMedici.”
“Well, he can bloody well court somebody else. I mean it’s been fun and he can spend his money any way he wants, but I’m not going to be summoned to dinner.”
Catherine turned away and started cooking dinner for her and Sera.
“Catherine, Marco DeMedici is one of the most eligible men in all of Italy, maybe even all of Europe, and it looks like he’s set his cap on you.”
“He can keep his cap to himself. I didn’t ask for him to start paying my bills, and I don’t need him to pay them. I’ll send him a note politely declining his invitation and telling him if he’ll send me the total of what he’s spent I’ll reimburse him for his trouble.”
“Catherine, that dinner last night alone would pay your bill here for a week. But if you’re going to do that, I’ll return the espresso machine.”
“Sera, there’s no need. I made a really good living as a corporate raider, invested wisely, and inherited my grandfather’s fortune. I can afford everything he’s bought for me. I just don’t usually splurge that way.”
“But you saw him. Marco DeMedici is sex on a stick.”
Catherine laughed. “Well, yeah. He is easy on the eyes, that’s for sure.”
“Easy on the eyes? Did you see him? Tall, dark, gorgeous. He could have any woman he wanted in Florence and he picked little ole you.”
“Well, little ole me doesn’t do casual sex or being ordered around.”
“Ordered?” questioned Sera. “He sends you a beautiful handwritten note on handmade paper and invites you to a private dinner in the city’s most prestigious gallery. You should at least go meet him and have dinner. If you’re not interested, then tell him thanks but no thanks.”
Catherine shook her head as she sautéed the onions and garlic. “As soon as I get this to simmering, I’ll dash him off a note.”
Once Catherine had her dinner in a good place to take a quick break, she grabbed a pen and wrote on the back of DeMedici’s note:
Dear Mr. DeMedici,
While I greatly appreciate the generosity you have shown to me, I must say
that you have not spent your money wisely. I will not give you a good return
on your investment.
I will not be joining you for dinner. And if you will send me the total of
what has been spent so far, I will be happy to reimburse you.
I would ask that you cease and desist in your pursuit of me and allow me
to enjoy the remainder of my time in Florence.
C. Livingston
Sera shook her head. “Catherine, you’re a fool. At least have dinner with the man. Who knows? He could be your soulmate... the love of your life.”
Catherine laughed. “No. What he is, is an arrogant prick who thought he could impress me with his wealth and power. I walked away from being a corporate raider because I realized there was a lot more to life than wealth and power and wanted to go find my little piece of it for myself.”
Catherine turned back to her cooking. She had just added the pasta to the sauce, when the buzzer at the front gate rang. Catherine tossed the pasta with the sauce, removed her pan from the heat, picked up her note, put it back in the envelope, drew a line through her name and wrote his name on it. She trotted out to the front gate and handed the driver the envelope.
The driver took the envelope and looked at her questioningly. “You’re not coming? But, Mr. DeMedici is waiting.”
“And he can continue to wait. He didn’t check with me to see if I was interested i
n having dinner with him or even if I was free, which I am not. I’m cooking dinner for my friend. The note explains it all, but do tell Mr. DeMedici that I appreciate his interest, but that he should refrain from contacting me in the future.”
Catherine turned on her heel and walked away, leaving the hired driver to stand with his mouth open. Catherine stole a look over her shoulder. She had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing. The look on the driver’s face clearly indicated he felt she was a fool and didn’t know who Marco DeMedici was.
Chapter Seven
Marco paced the empty gallery. He had everything ready. He had indulged her and shown her he was a generous man. He had arranged a romantic private dinner in one of the most beautiful spots in all of Florence. Marco could barely contain his excitement as he heard the door open to the museum.
His shock and flash of anger were palpable when the driver walked in without his Catherine by his side.
“Where is she?” he demanded.
The driver quaked. “She is at the address you sent me to. She sent a note,” he said, extending his hand.
Marco snatched the envelope and read Catherine’s cold dismissal of all he had done. Marco swore. He saw the effect his anger was having on the poor driver.
“It is not your fault, my friend. My mate is merely continuing in her naughty behavior.” He gestured to the table. “Please, my friend, enjoy yourself.”
Marco left the museum. Return on his investment? Did she think he was trying to buy her affections? Marco walked through Florence thinking how his well thought out scheme could have gone so awry. He knew his mate was as spirited as she was intelligent and beautiful. He laughed at himself. What a fool he had been.
Marco had done his homework once he knew his mate’s name. Catherine Livingston had enough of her own money to buy anything she liked. What he had seen as trying to spoil her, she had seen as his trying to buy her. He would need to apologize to her for his mistake and ask that she forgive what he was sure she saw as his arrogance.
He marveled at what a long walk through the beautiful city streets could do to restore his good humor and give him perspective. When he had left the museum, his palm had itched to make contact with his Catherine’s backside for defying him. Now he could see her perspective and that same hand wished only to caress and fondle that same lovely derriere.
Marco smiled as he recalled seeing her respond to his call. He had to remind himself that she wasn’t a wolf and most likely did not understand what those feelings represented. He would have to be patient. He would bring his Catherine to heel and they would have a wonderful life.
Tomorrow he would go about setting things right with her.
* * *
Catherine and Sera enjoyed what was mostly a lovely evening. Her pasta dish had turned out even better than she’d hoped. They had talked of their pasts, their current plans, and what their futures might hold. Sera had been none too subtle in pointing out that Catherine’s could hold Marco DeMedici.
“Pfft,” said Catherine, dismissing the idea. “He doesn’t even know me. I’m quite sure if we met he’d change his mind pretty damn quick.”
“He’s an interesting man. There’s the public side, which is well known. But he is just as well known for having a private side. I know that the people who work for him and live in the surrounding town have nothing but good things to say about him.”
“Well, then they can have dinner with him. And he’s not the only one with a public and private side.”
Sera laughed. “Jesus, Catherine...”
She was interrupted by the front gate buzzer. Sera got up to answer and was told there was a delivery for Signorina Livingston. Sera turned to look at Catherine.
“Do what you want. I’m not getting up.”
“Fine, Miss Stubborn, I’ll go get it and bring it to you.”
Sera ran out the door and collected the items from the delivery man. She came back in and walked over to Catherine with an enormous grin on her face.
“You do what you like with the notes. But you are not sending these handmade chocolate truffles back.”
“You don’t know that they’re handmade.”
“Oh, but I do, Godalpho’s only makes handmade truffles that cost the earth and are worth every dime.”
She offered Catherine one of the chocolates along with another handwritten note, presumably from Marco DeMedici. Catherine took the envelope and opened it. She read aloud the note enclosed:
Catherine,
I fear my actions, which I intended to delight you, have had the opposite
effect. It was never my intent to make you feel as any sort of investment.
I merely wished to provide you with a wonderful vacation here in
Florence without having to worry about money.
Please accept these chocolates as my way of acknowledging my error
and allow me the honor of buying you a meal or even a drink at your
convenience. I would appreciate the opportunity to allay any concerns
you may have and to offer my sincere apologies for any insult you may
have felt.
Marco
“Well, that just may be the nicest mea culpa note I’ve ever heard. But how does he expect you to let him know when it’s convenient?”
“It won’t be convenient,” Catherine said to her. “And the address of his hotel is on the envelope. I will have a note delivered to him in the morning.”
Sera rolled her eyes. “Catherine, what is the matter with you? The guy goes out of his way to basically give you a dream vacation. Then when you throw it back in his face, he apologizes and offers to buy you dinner... again.”
“I don’t see it that way. The note is calculated to manipulate and control the situation. His first salvo didn’t work, so he’s dropped back and means to come at me again. Thanks, but I’ll pass.”
“Good lord, you’re stubborn.”
Catherine grinned at her. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. Enjoy the chocolates. I’m going to bed.”
Catherine went into her room and once again used the back of the paper Marco had used to pen her response.
Dear Mr. DeMedici,
Thank you for your thoughtful note and the chocolates. Neither was
necessary. I will ask again that you send me the total for the expenditures
you have made on my behalf so that I may reimburse you for them.
You asked for a convenient time to meet. I fear there is no convenient
time as I have no intention of meeting with you. I have plans for my
trip, which do not include you. Please turn your attentions toward
another. I’m sure she will be more appreciative.
C. Livingston
* * *
Catherine slept fitfully. Her dreams were interrupted repeatedly by Marco DeMedici and his wolf companion. Doggedly he pursued her in her dreams. She managed to wake herself each time before he reached her only to fall back asleep and find him in pursuit once more. Each and every time as he would close in on her she would hear and feel a low rumbling growl... not from the wolf but from the man.
The next morning she dropped the note off at the front desk of his hotel before heading out to the Bargello Museum. Once again her money was refused for a ticket but she left the cash with the ticket seller any way. She found herself wandering through one of the galleries when she was approached by the director.
“Signorina Livingston?”
Catherine turned, pasted a smile on her face, and forced herself to remember that the woman standing before her was not the person with whom she was annoyed. The jerk really didn’t seem to be able to grasp the concept of no.
“Guilty as charged. May I help you?”
“There was no need for you...”
“I know,” Catherine interrupted, “to pay for a ticket or anything else while I am here. Mr. DeMedici has paid for everything, including asking you to give me a guided tour. I will tell you what I told
them at the Uffizi yesterday, I prefer to wander. If you choose not to accept the money I gave to the ticket taker then please give it to your favorite charity or to anyone you wish. Is there anything else?”
“No, signorina. Except to say that I have known Marco DeMedici for a long time and I can assure you that he is a man of honorable intentions.”
Catherine smiled, this time genuinely. “Warned you that I might not be all that receptive?”
The woman smiled back. “He did mention that if you chose to wander on your own I was to abide by your wishes. Welcome to the Bargello Museum; enjoy your time here.”
“Thank you. I will. And I do appreciate the offer of a guided tour by a woman with your reputation.”
“It would have been my pleasure.”
Catherine spent a good part of her day in the museum. While arguably not as famous as the Uffizi, it was second to none in the quality of its collections and the way they were displayed.
* * *
Marco saw the note slip under the door of his hotel room. He noted that once again, she had merely marked through her own name and written his own.
“Catherine,” he muttered under his breath without looking at her note.
He glanced at his watch. Griffin had agreed to come back into the city this morning to meet him for breakfast and to attend the final meeting on the sale. Marco dressed and bypassed the ancient elevator in lieu of descending the grand staircase into the hotel lobby.
He entered the hotel’s restaurant and saw that Griffin had already arrived.
“Griffin,” Marco hailed as he joined him.
“Good morning, Marco.”
“My friend, already you look more refreshed.”
“I am,” said Griffin with a smile. “Between the vineyard itself, the people already there and those from your vineyard that joined us, I have found a lovely respite. Best you take care or you may find me a permanent resident.”
“Nothing would give me greater pleasure. Well, nothing except for my Catherine to cease her misbehaving.”
Griffin laughed. “So you know her name?”
“Catherine Livingston. She is American. A former corporate shark who was in a devastating automobile accident a few years ago. When she had mended physically, she took herself out of the rat race to study art. She graduated just recently at the top of her class.”
