“Bella…”
“Don’t call me that!”
There was a beat and then he said, “Valeria, is it all right if I call you that?”
She thought about it for a while. She really wanted to say, Don’t call me anything! As a matter-of-fact, don’t call me at all! But instead, after a few moments, she said softly, “Okay.”
“Valeria, we are moving into the harbor. I thought you would like to eat while we circle Liberty Island. We can stop there if you like…or perhaps you would like to see Ellis Island?”
“I prefer the company in here.”
“Valeria, if you stay in there you will be seasick.”
“I’ll take my chances,” she retorted and rolled her eyes as she took another swig.
He sighed, “Bell—Valeria, you are not spending the evening with me. If you stay in there the rest of the night, I cannot count this as part of our agreement.”
Immediately, she opened the door and pushed past him. “Alright,” she sighed deeply, and then turned to him, lifting an eyebrow. “Do I owe you an additional ten minutes? Or can we count your invasion of my privacy earlier today?” He began to answer but she turned away from him and continued to the deck. “And while we are at it, are there any other rules I should know about?” She walked past the elegantly set table to a cushion on the back corner of the yacht and sat down.
The yacht circled the Statue of Liberty and, looking back across the blue harbor, she could see the deep green of Battery Park and, further north, the skyscrapers of Manhattan. It really was quite magnificent. Valeria had drunk less than a quarter of the bottle when she asked for a bottle of water. Paolo instructed the crew to serve dinner. Valeria’s sat untouched.
“The sea bass is delicious. You really should try it, Valeria,” he took another bite of his dinner, “especially if you insist on drinking heavily.”
She had eaten before they left so that she would not be forced to eat while looking at him. “Don’t worry; I may get drunk, but not drunk enough to ever forget who you are and what you did.”
The cruise ended with Valeria refusing to eat any of the food that Paolo’s staff had prepared. Despite that, he continued to be gracious. He took her home in the limo and even walked her to her door where she put her hand out toward his chest, holding him at arms distance. “Trust me, you don’t want to try anything with me!” He sighed as he nodded and took a step back from her.
“I plan to pick you up at seven a.m. tomorrow.”
Valeria looked at him as if he was insane. “It’s two dates a week and you need to schedule it with me in advance!”
“Can I see you tomorrow morning at seven a.m.?”
She thought about it. The faster the subsequent twenty-six dates were over and done with, the sooner she could see Alex! She shrugged. “I may as well get it over with and then I don’t have to see you the rest of the week. But I want this clear—I am not spending all day with you. Maximum date length is four hours.”
“Five hours. Seven a.m. tomorrow?”
Valeria shrugged again before turning to run up the flight of stairs, quickly unlocking her door. She flew into her flat and slammed the door shut, as if blocking out her memories, and then threw the deadbolt. Leaning against the door for a moment, she fought the mounting emotion. She went to her bed, her eyes filled with tears. “Alex, where are you?” she choked.
She arose at six to go for an early morning run and by seven she was showered and dressed in sweats. He picked her up and had coffee waiting for her in the limo, but she refused—a first for her, especially considering that she had barely had one cup, let alone the two cups that she allowed herself each morning.
They drove to a field in New Jersey where hot air balloons were being filled. Her heart lurched; the memory of her only time in a hot air balloon flooded into her mind and, for a moment, she allowed her memory to take her back to Venice. She bit her lip hard to keep from crying. How could she balloon with Paolo? Hiding behind her sunglasses, she turned her head to look out the window in attempted nonchalance, knowing that her nose had turned red from the threat of tears.
It was a beautiful morning but Valeria remained in the limo, studying her cell phone as if there was something on it that was actually of interest to her. When Paolo came to join her, she got out and engaged a group from another balloon in conversation.
Once they were ready to launch, she climbed into the basket, with Paolo behind her; as the balloon rose, the pilot offered her some champagne. She took the bottle, thanked him, and slid down to sit on the floor of the basket so that she couldn’t see anything. She would not, and could not, enjoy the view with Paolo. She didn’t want to remember the last time she had been in a balloon. Sitting, she could concentrate on the bottle…and that’s all. She would never permit herself to enjoy anything with him.
Two days later, a messenger delivered an invitation for the following week, Wednesday at six in the evening. Valeria marked it, “Okay, that will be three down, twenty-four left,” and sent it back.
They went to dinner at an outdoor restaurant near Battery Park, called Gigino’s, with an extraordinary view of the harbor. Valeria wore jeans and a T-shirt this time.
As soon as they were seated the waiter asked if they would care for a bottle of wine and Paolo tilted his head to the side. “The lady typically prefers her own bottle. Valeria, would you care for a glass this evening?” He raised his eyebrows, with a glint of humor in his eyes.
Slightly embarrassed, Valeria rolled her eyes to the waiter, as if she didn’t know what Paolo was talking about. “Of course, I would like a glass.” Then she bit her lip lightly and hid behind her menu.
Paolo ordered a bottle of wine and when it arrived, she heard the waiter say, “2002 Ladera Cabernet.”
Her heart froze; it was her favorite wine from Alex’s collection. “No. Please…can we have something else?”
The waiter had already begun to open the expensive bottle of wine. Paolo eyed Valeria for a moment. “Certainly. I apologize. Valeria do you have a preference?”
She pulled the menu up higher and shook her head, unable to speak for a moment. Paolo spoke to the waiter, “Please take this bottle back. Valeria, would you care to try the 2008 Louis Martini Cabernet?” She offered a nearly imperceptible shrug, still hiding behind the menu.
During dinner, he allowed her the space to recover, and while she appreciated it, it would have been much easier if he had been a jerk. By the time their coffee had arrived, she had completely recovered and decided it was time to further antagonize him.
Four men were seated behind her, and she turned around to talk to them. As soon as she turned, the men began flirting with her, and she shamelessly flirted back. She even scooted her chair closer to theirs, while Paolo just watched pleasantly and sipped his coffee.
The men bought her a pomegranate martini and she sipped it gratefully. It was good! She even offered two of the men her phone number, telling them she would go out with whoever called first after she left. Of course, she gave them both the wrong number. Except for Alex, Valeria had never flirted before, and it made her feel ridiculous.
A Latino band began playing in the park next to them. The food had been very good and the music fantastic. Paolo asked her if she wanted to listen to the band and Valeria sighed as if bored, but the fact was that they were great. With the sun setting, the first stars and planets bejeweled the sky next to the crescent moon as the sky was painted with brilliant purples and blues with just a hint of yellow, orange, and red. She sipped her martini as a masted yacht strung with colorful lights cruised toward Liberty Island, just as she and Paolo had done only nights before. It was breathtaking and she found it interesting that in all of her years in Manhattan, she had never been down here to enjoy this. The wonderful smells of the food filled the air along with the Latin music. Couples began to salsa to the band, while families played on the lawn beside them. She found herself enjoying the evening despite her insistence that she would not.
> The next day he took her on a private backstage tour of Wicked and then they attended the musical in box seats. Valeria found that she was embarrassed to be in her jeans. Afterward, they went to Sardi’s and had champagne and hors d’oeuvres.
She refused the next several requests, saying that she was busy. Although she realized that each date brought her closer to Alex, she didn’t want to be enjoying herself. Where was Alex? Didn’t he love her anymore? Had he moved on? Maybe he had reunited with Kristiana.
The following week, Paolo invited her to lunch at Tavern on the Greene. Valeria agreed, but said that she would meet him there. When she arrived, Paolo was wearing jeans and a silk shirt. She was dressed in slacks and a blouse. She wore her hair down and had actually put on a bit of makeup. They sat outside in the beautiful garden setting.
Paolo’s eyes sparkled. “You look beautiful.”
“Thanks.” She shrugged without meeting his eyes.
After they had eaten lunch, Paolo seemed particularly excited. “Bella—Valeria, I have something for you. I hope you like it.” He smiled nervously.
Gifts from Paolo…as if they would mean anything to her! She shrugged, knowing she would reject it as soon as he presented it to her. Still, surprisingly, she had witnessed a vulnerability in him with this gift and she didn’t want to be cruel; and, to her own shock, she realized that she didn’t want to hurt him. Paolo had taken whatever cruel comment she had thrown at him and responded with kindness and consideration; well, except for the part where he had destroyed her life and taken any piece of happiness she might ever have, and threatened the lives of everyone she truly loved! Aside from that, he was starting to grow on her. Despite it all, she knew that she would reject this gift. There was only one purpose to all of this…to see Alex!
Paolo lifted his napkin to his mouth and rose to cross the patio. He stepped behind a tall hedge that led to Central Park, returning in moments with a small, tri-colored puppy with floppy ears and big brown eyes. For the first time she saw someone other than her enemy. Paolo’s expression was so excited, so sweet and vulnerable. A couple at the next table watched as if it were the most romantic gesture that they had ever seen. The waitress even told Valeria how fortunate she was to have someone so sweet!
Valeria felt nauseous. She had to get out of here! Paolo proudly held out the puppy to her and, in response, the puppy wagged its tail wildly, smiling at her with a silly grin nearly matched by Paolo’s. Paolo looked like someone with a heart—not the man who had ripped hers out only months before. Were there any depths he wouldn’t stoop to?
“What is this?” she demanded, ignoring the puppy. Paolo tried to hand the puppy to her. But she jumped up. “I don’t want a dog from you!”
“Valeria, just pet him, he’s very gentle…and smart! I taught him a trick…allow me to show you.” Paolo set the puppy down. “Valeria, just watch!”
She jumped back, and her throat tightened. Tears were threatening to spill, and she certainly wouldn’t—couldn’t—permit Paolo to see them. She turned and hurriedly began walking away from him. Valeria felt the puppy at her heels and prayed that Paolo would have the good sense to come and get it.
“Valeria, what is wrong?” Paolo yelled.
She kept walking out onto the sidewalk of busy Central Park West. The puppy was trying to keep up with her as Paolo yelled after her, “Bella, please take him!” She began sobbing. She didn’t want something he had given her. She simply couldn’t care for anything Paolo had given her.
“Bella! Please pick him up!” Valeria could see the innocent puppy out of the corner of her eye, distracted by the traffic. She was desperately afraid that he would run into the street and she wished she could pick him up. She simply couldn’t do it. If she picked him up, she wouldn’t be able to set him down again. It would be as if she accepted this life—or half-life—away from Morgana and her family. Away from Alex.
Finally, she heard the words from Paolo that changed everything, “Alex asked me to give the puppy to you.”
Valeria froze. She knew she couldn’t trust Paolo. He would lie in a heartbeat to get what he wanted.
Paolo came closer. “Alex was worried about you being too alone. He said there was a puppy you liked in Trento.”
Valeria remembered the day she walked with Alex through the streets in Trento and had spotted a dog, just like this one. She had played with the puppy for almost an hour when Alex had suggested that after they returned from their wedding festivities, they should get one.
Immediately, she dropped to the sidewalk and pulled the puppy into her chest as her body convulsed in an attempt to rid itself of the emotion. She would not cry. No more tears, she promised herself. No more tears, she chanted. If one fell, others would follow. Alex hadn’t forgotten her!
Paolo knelt by her, while she drew in deep breathes as a bulwark against the tears. “He said you would like this kind of puppy. He sent him to me to give to you.” Paolo put his hand on her shoulder and she ignored it, her attention was focused on the puppy and Alex. He looked away and said, almost to himself, “I swore to myself that I would not tell you the dog was from him.” Then he looked directly at her. “You know that I should not have told you.”
She put all of her efforts into loving the puppy, instead of hating Paolo. Holding the puppy close as he happily licked her face, she whispered, “Thank you for telling me.” She petted him. “He looks like a Charlie,” she sniffed.
Rising, as if she now had the most precious gift of her life in her arms—and a reason for living—she began walking back to her brownstone.
“Valeria,” Paolo said, as he petted the puppy and smiled at him. “Charlie needs supplies. I can drive you home and then bring over his supplies.”
She wiped her face. “No, I think we’ll walk.”
“But Charlie should not be left alone and there are so many things a puppy needs. May I at least bring them to you?”
She nodded. “All right.”
“I will see you shortly.”
An hour later, she buzzed him into her brownstone and he stepped in loaded down with numerous bags of puppy supplies—a doggy bed, a leash, toys, dog food, dog bowls—and a bottle of wine and flowers for Valeria. She took the dog supplies and wine.
“Thanks, Paolo.” Then, taking the flowers, she shrugged and tossed them into the trash can. They both smiled. After drinking a glass of wine with her, Paolo said goodnight and left without fanfare.
That night, she laid in her bed with Charlie asleep in her arms as she silently pleaded for Alex to come to her.
CHAPTER 12
It was Memorial Day and Central Park was packed for the concert. Valeria sat on a tan blanket feeding Charlie, the puppy, leftover pieces of the barbecued chicken she had brought from Daisy Mae’s—her favorite barbecue in Manhattan. Charlie gratefully lapped up the remainder of the barbecued chicken from her fingers. The temperature was eighty-two degrees and it felt perfect on her skin. Weege watched Valeria with interest for a few minutes. “You’re happy, aren’t you?”
Valeria looked at Weege and realized that Weege had never seen her when she was with Alex. The only measure that Weege had was from Valeria’s life before Alex, and her deep despair after losing him. So comparatively, she was considerably happier than she was either of those times, especially knowing that Alex was somewhere in the world. And looking at Charlie reminded her that he was thinking of her. But she wasn’t about to discuss all of that with Weege.
“I’m okay,” Valeria said, laughing at Charlie’s expression as he finished the last bites of chicken. When she failed to give him more, he dropped his head on the blanket and gazed up at her woefully…evidently emotionally decimated by the lack of more barbecue.
Glancing at the grass next to them, Paolo was playing bocce ball with a few of the kids in the area. Weege’s new beau, Kenny, was watching him and looked like a fish out of water; he was an overweight truck driver wearing shorts, revealing his very white legs and knee socks. Paolo looked like
a male model or pro-athlete…which only increased the comedy of Kenny’s appearance. Kenny’s hands were lodged on his hips as he watched Paolo, as if at any minute Kenny might jump in.
“Kenny doesn’t know whether to throw a line at it, tackle it, or have it for lunch!” Weege laughed. “So, Val,” she smiled smugly, “I always knew you and Paolo would end up together.”
Valeria shook her head, no longer upset by Weege’s constant comments about Paolo. “We aren’t together.”
“Well, did you notify your face? Because girlfriend, you look happy for the first time in a very long time.”
“Yeah, well, you thought I was happy with David!” Valeria offered Weege a critical glance. She really didn’t want to hear that she was “happy” now. She just wasn’t in agony.
“Well, duh! David was a diplomat!” she teased, scrunching her nose. “Still, with Paolo—”
Valeria interrupted in irritation, “Weege! I’m not with Paolo!” Valeria glanced toward him and lowered her voice. She really didn’t want to hurt him. She just saw him as a means to an end, which would seem cruel except for the fact…she shook her head. She needed to find another path!
“Weege, Paolo is just a friend. I’m with Alex!” Valeria rolled her eyes. She noticed as Charlie hunched down slightly as if he was in trouble. She pulled him tightly to her chest. “I wasn’t talking to you, buddy! I was talking to Weege.” Charlie recovered and licked her neck in forgiveness.
She had never told Weege about what happened with Alex or who Paolo was. Weege had never asked about what happened that night at Sardi’s, but Valeria was certain that Paolo had somehow justified her extreme reaction. Still, she had always been curious.
Glancing casually at Weege, Valeria asked, “I have been wondering how this whole set-up with Paolo happened.” She played with Charlie, pretending to be only mildy interested.
“Oh, I guess he must have seen you at the office.” Weege looked at Valeria. “I told you this, right?” Valeria shook her head no. Weege went on, “Well, he saw you and the next thing I know, Orin fricking Taylor—as in CEO, Orin Taylor,” Val nodded and Weege continued, “is calling me and telling me that a friend of his is quite taken with you. I assumed it was some computer geek—or worse, a flower freak!” Weege shrugged. “Then Orin says the guy wants to come by and introduce himself so that I know he isn’t some weirdo.”
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