by Alexia Adams
Her mother began to speak, thanking everyone for coming. Bella forced a smile in case anyone glanced her way. As her mother droned on, Bella shifted so her back was against the wall, helping to hold her up.
“What’s your mother doing?” Kai’s familiar voice was like a warm drink on a cold winter morning.
“Stealing the spotlight. What else?”
“Why?”
“She’s the buyer that Matteo’s been trying to woo the past three months. I just found out five minutes ago. She’s taking credit for this whole thing.” Bella waved her hand around the room, all evidence of her husband’s passion and talent, the life he’d led before he remembered her.
“Shit. I swear I didn’t know.”
“How long have you been here?” Had he seen her argue with Matteo?
“Ten minutes. My parents came home and raved about the collection and said I had to see it for myself. Pretty impressive.”
“Did you put the five grand bid on one of the pieces?”
“No. Do you want me to?”
“No. I’d rather the piece went to someone who really wanted it, not a pity offer.”
“I don’t pity you, Bella. I admire you. My proposal still stands . . . ”
“So does my refusal. New York and I are no longer compatible.”
His eyes swept her up and down, no doubt comparing her to the woman he’d seen at the farm. “Doesn’t seem like it. You’ve been back two days and it looks like you’ve never left.”
She ignored that. “Did you know my mother worked for Saks Fifth Avenue?”
“I heard she got a job, but no one said what or I would have warned you.”
“I thought your parents were my parents’ best friends.”
“Well, after you broke off our engagement, things were a bit strained. Then Mom accidentally discovered that your dad was having an affair. She tried to warn your mother, but Linda wouldn’t hear her out.”
“Public perception has always been the most important thing to my mother. Didn’t matter how bad things were. As long as everyone else thought we were the perfect family, it was all okay in her eyes.”
Kai nodded. “Don’t become her, Bella.”
She turned to glare at him. “How can you even think that?”
“I see it every day in my line of work. Women who gave up their dreams for their husbands, who have nothing but lunches and parties in their diaries. They become bitter and jaded, always searching for the next thrill to make them feel alive. Sure, they have the clothes, the shoes, the cars, the nice holidays. But nothing to give them a sense of accomplishment. I’d hate to see that happen to you.”
“I have the farm, my animals, my businesses . . . ”
“So you’ve decided to give up Matteo and stay in Sicily?”
Had she? What Kai said was true. She needed a calling, something to give her life purpose. She couldn’t just breeze in and take over from Farrah; that wasn’t fair to the other woman. Besides, she had no artistic talent. But neither could she run the farm or her businesses from Tunisia or wherever else in the world Matteo happened to be. And there was the whole issue of him keeping things from her.
Matteo was speaking now; his deep voice, lightly accented by an Italian inflection, mesmerized everyone in the room, not just the women. How easy it would be to just be pulled along with his current. Surrender herself to his will and become the mindless woman she dreaded ending up.
“Matteo deserves to be the first to know my decision,” she said, neither confirming nor denying Kai’s question.
“Well, always know you have me in your corner. I’d better get home. I’ve got surgery in the morning. Keep in touch, Pop-Tart.”
She sensed Matteo’s eyes on her as she hugged Kai and kissed him on the cheek, although her husband never lost a beat in his speech.
Kai eyed the crowd. “It’s going to take me hours to get near the door. Now I wished I’d played football in college,” he muttered.
“You can leave by the back door. It’s quicker.”
She showed him through the rear exit. As he turned to wave goodbye one last time, Bella’s cell phone rang. People in the gallery were clapping now, so the speeches must be ending. She’d just take this call then return to Matteo’s side. What he was trying to accomplish here was more important than her troubled heart.
“Hey, Angela, what’s up?”
“It’s that family in the guesthouse.” There was a wobble in Angela’s voice, like she was just barely keeping it together. “The mother left two days ago and hasn’t returned. We can hear the little girl crying in the house. The dad shouts at her and she stops for a while but neither of them has been outside since the mom departed. What should we do?”
“Knock on the door and offer to take the girl to the beach or for a ride on the donkey. Use the key if the dad doesn’t answer. Just get her out of there and safe. Can you look after her until the mom comes to collect her? I’ll be on a flight back to Sicily tonight.” This wasn’t something she could expect Angela and Tony to deal with. The guests were her responsibility, and if anything happened to that little girl, she would blame herself for not being there. And although the family had booked a two-week stay, they needed to go and get help immediately. No way would soft-hearted Angela or Tony be able to evict them.
“Okay. We’ll hold down the fort until you get back.”
“Thanks, Ang.”
She peeked out the door, hoping to catch Matteo’s eye. Except he still stood in the middle of the room, Bella’s mom’s hand on his arm. Some important looking guy with a camera crew seemed to be interviewing them. Media exposure could be crucial to the success of the venture—more schools, sooner, for the children in Africa. She couldn’t interrupt him now with her little domestic emergency and jeopardize everything he’d worked for. But neither could she linger. The last flights to Europe left soon.
She managed to flag down a taxi and direct the driver to the airport. On the way, she tried to compose a text to Matteo. In the end, all she could manage was:
Emergency at the farm. Gone back to Sicily. Ciao.
Chapter Sixteen
If there were a punching bag within sight, he’d beat the crap out of it. Provided he could summon enough energy to pull on the boxing gloves. He searched the room for Bella, having finally detached himself from her mother. Dio, the woman was a leech. She hadn’t even hugged Bella when she’d seen her. If she weren’t so critical to the success of their launch in America, he’d have told the cold witch exactly where she could put her collagen-injected lips—and it was no place the sun shone.
Only a few stragglers were left at the party. The catering staff had stopped serving about half an hour ago and the silent auction was now closed. The twenty pieces they’d displayed tonight had netted over $75,000. Perhaps they should do more events like this one. Maybe Bella could oversee that division, as throwing impromptu parties definitely wasn’t in Farrah’s wheelhouse. Her jab about being the accessory to his accomplishments stung. What more could he do to prove how important she was to him? He’d told her he loved her time and again. That she hadn’t said the same to him was the empty well in his soul.
“Have you seen my wife?” he asked one of the catering staff. The man was clearing the gallery of abandoned wineglasses.
“Last I saw, she went into the back room with a tall blonde guy,” the server replied.
Kai. He’d seen Bella kissing him during the speeches. But surely she wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye first. Yeah, they’d had an argument, but it wasn’t their first. They’d always been able to talk things through once they both calmed down.
He pulled his phone from his pocket, but it was dead and he’d left the charger at the hotel room. Maybe she’d returned there.
“Can I borrow your cell phone?” he asked Linda, who still lingered. By the way she kept fiddling with her necklace and tossing her hair behind her shoulder, she was interested in him. She’d been throwing out lures since they met yes
terday. Merda, he was her daughter’s husband. If that wasn’t a deterrent, he didn’t know what was.
“Sure. Is there a problem?”
My wife has left me. “No.” He tried Bella’s cell, but it went straight to voicemail. Either she was out of battery as well or had turned it off. Next he tried the hotel, but she didn’t answer the room phone either. “Can you close up here? I need to go.” He handed Linda the phone back.
“I thought we could go for a drink and discuss the contract details,” she said, putting her hand on his arm again.
This had to stop. If it all worked out, he’d be dealing with this woman for years to come. “Linda, I’m happily married to your daughter. While I appreciate your personal interest in this project, it’s just business. Please email me the contract and I’ll have my lawyer look over it.”
She dropped her hand, but with her forehead so full of Botox he couldn’t tell if she was angry or disappointed at his rebuff. “Fine. I’ll close up here.”
No, “give my love to Bella” or any other indication that she recognized his wife as her daughter. If this was the example she’d grown up with, it was a minor miracle that Bella had turned out so warm and loving.
Back in the hotel room, everything was as he’d left it that morning. Bella hadn’t packed and nothing seemed disturbed. A cold chill swept up his spine. What if she hadn’t gone willingly? He’d obviously ticked off the mafia in Sicily. Did they have connections here? His hands shook, and it took two tries to get the charger plug into his phone. While he waited for it to get enough juice to restart, he paced the room.
The ping as messages hit his inbox was the most welcome sound he’d heard, aside from Bella calling out his name as she climaxed. Dio, she may not have said she loved him, but she couldn’t have faked every emotion she’d shown over the past month. Until she told him herself that it was over, he’d continue to hope. His father had always said it was his greatest weakness. When his mother had left, Matteo had sat by the front door for three weeks, waiting for her to return, not going inside even to eat, pulling his blanket and pillow into the kitchen so he’d be the first to see her when she returned. She hadn’t. He prayed this time his faith would be rewarded.
He grabbed his phone and scrolled through the messages, ignoring the work ones. Finally, he saw the text from Bella. It had to be a serious emergency for her to leave without talking to him. Could he catch her at the airport?
“When’s the last flight to Europe?” he asked the hotel concierge, who thankfully answered on the first ring.
“You’ve missed them all for tonight, sir. Can I book something for you for tomorrow?”
Tomorrow might be too late. “Can you arrange a private jet for me?”
“Absolutely. Destination?”
Matteo’s cell began to ring, and the number for the Sicilian lawyer flashed up. “I’ll let you know in two minutes whether Palermo or Tunis.”
“Very good, sir. I’ll get right on it.”
Matteo picked up his cell but had to bend over as it was still plugged in. “Batista, give me good news.”
“Sorry. My investigations have stirred up a hornets’ nest. They’ve issued an arrest warrant for you. Don’t come back to Sicily.”
“Bella’s on her way. Some sort of emergency at the farm.”
“She should be fine; the warrant is for you only. But just in case, I’ll have an associate follow her from the airport.”
“Thanks. Call me when you have any news.”
Matteo called the concierge back and told him to arrange the plane for Tunis. He’d have to figure out some way of getting into Sicily undetected. If whatever had happened was urgent enough to call Bella back immediately, it was unlikely she’d be there only a short time. And the longer she stayed on the farm, the harder it would be to get her to leave again. Was this the end of their marriage?
One of the housekeeping staff came up to help him pack, and within thirty minutes he was in the back of a limo heading to the private airstrip where the plane waited for him.
The contract from Saks arrived in his inbox. Twice the number of units per month they’d discussed and double the suggested retail price. It was an unmitigated success.
Too bad it was overshadowed by Bella leaving him.
• • •
She was covered in a slick of perspiration, there was chewing gum stuck in her hair courtesy of the child seated behind her on the plane, she hadn’t eaten anything aside from a few pretzels in eighteen hours or slept in over thirty. Worse, she missed Matteo so much her chest physically ached. Not wanting to rack up any more debt on his credit card, she’d flown economy class to Rome and then had to endure a half-hour interview by the immigration official on why she was traveling without luggage. Not to mention the fact that the coins on her blouse had set off every metal detector she’d passed through, resulting in pat downs and additional screening.
Finally, she’d made it to Palermo airport only to have missed the last bus to Seccagrande. She either had to rent a car, call someone to pick her up, or spend the night in the Sicilian capital. Last she’d heard from Cristo, he was in Hong Kong, being wooed to take over the Asian division of his bank. Which left Tony or Angela. But when she’d called them from Rome for an update, they were struggling to look after a small child and still get all the farm work done. It wasn’t fair to ask them to now come collect her.
Looked like she’d be adding one more expense to Matteo’s credit card.
“Scusi, signora.”
Bella turned to find a man in a suit holding out a phone to her. Her phone battery had died shortly after texting Matteo. She’d had to use a pay phone to call Angela earlier.
“Yes?” She’d been speaking English so much lately she forgot to reply in Italian.
Instead of answering, he thrust the phone into her hand.
She took it but still stared at the man who’d forced the phone on her. Had she met him before? He’d been on her flight from Rome, but they hadn’t spoken. “Hello?” she said into the phone.
“Signora Vanni, this is Batista Preatori. Do you know who I am?”
“Yes.” Oh God, Matteo hadn’t been arrested, had he?
“The man who handed you the phone is working for me. With the authority of your husband, we have been following you from Rome.”
“Why? Am I in danger?”
“We think not but I wanted to be sure. An arrest warrant has been issued for your husband, and I wanted to make sure you weren’t pulled in for questioning without my knowledge.”
“Okay.” A chill enveloped her despite the intense heat of an Italian summer day. Had her haven become a no-go zone?
“Please allow my man, Pietro, to see you safely to the farm.” Batista’s voice was calmly reassuring, like he hadn’t just told her that her life was potentially in danger.
Bella swallowed. “Have you spoken to Matteo?”
“Yes. I talked to him very early this morning, which must have been late at night in New York.”
How did he sound? Was he upset? Did he say anything about me? Not really the questions you could ask a lawyer you’d met only once. She forced herself to think practically. “Do you know if Interpol has been advised of the warrant?” Would Matteo be arrested trying to fly out of New York? Or as he landed in Tunis? At least she knew he wouldn’t be crazy enough to follow her here.
“We don’t believe so. I’m working as hard as I can to prove him innocent. But until his memory returns or he’s able to provide some further evidence as to his actions that day, it’s very difficult.”
“I understand. Thank you.”
The drive to the farm was pleasant enough. Pietro didn’t seem the type of man to make small talk so she managed to nap for at least an hour. As they neared the village, he put a hand on her arm and asked for directions to the farm.
The gate was unlocked, and when Pietro stopped in front of the cottage, Bella waited for the peace and tranquility that usually came over her when she returned ho
me. Instead, an aching emptiness filled her.
Angela flew out of the cottage and wrapped Bella in a hug as soon as she stepped from the car. “Oh, who’s this?” she asked, when she saw it wasn’t Matteo behind the wheel.
“A nice man who gave me a lift from the airport.” She’d explain all that had happened later. She ducked her head through the open window. “Grazie, Pietro.”
“I’ll see you around, Signora,” he replied in Italian. Which meant his job wasn’t finished. But he reversed the car and returned up the driveway. Probably to find some vantage point where he could observe without being noticed.
Everything was as she’d left. The donkey and horse were in the field next to the barn. Akbar stared down his nose at her but made no move to come closer to the fence. In the distance, she could hear a few of the ewes bleating and calling to their lambs. The bees buzzed in the lavender and one of the dogs slinked over, hoping for a treat. No one had missed her or was excited to see her return.
“You look like you could use a coffee,” Angela said, leading the way to the cottage. “What happened to your luggage?”
“Yes to the coffee. Long story on the luggage. Where’s the little girl?”
“Holly is with her parents. Her mother came back this morning, all apologetic and promised she’d care for her daughter. They’re going to leave tomorrow morning. Evidently, the husband has agreed to go into treatment. Sorry, looks like I called you away for nothing.”
“Not nothing. I needed to come home.” Except it no longer felt like home.
“We’re happy to stay on here as long as you want,” Angela said, a little hopefully, as she prepared a coffee for them.
“What about your café?”
“Well, Tony’s cousin and her husband are visiting from Napoli. They can’t get work there and were wondering if I could hire them.”
In other words, if I leave the farm, I could provide two young couples with jobs and a place to live.
It seemed the farm would be fine without her. Still, Kai’s words rang in her ears. Don’t become one of them—a woman without a purpose.
