"Uh, no. It's Richie, my man."
Stronzo. What next? Had he somehow found out about the roof failure? How could he? Guillermo forced a smile into his voice. "Richie. How are you doing?" And then there was Richie. He'd forgotten to add Mad Masta Richie to the list of people to whom he owed something. People he had to take care of.
"Can we meet? I need to talk to you." His voice had an edge Guillermo didn't care for.
"I'm-a little busy at the moment-a, Richie. What can I do for you, man?" More stress. This was going to kill him. Wait until Richie found out about the leak and the collapsing ceiling. He wouldn't want the villa at all. It would be the perfect opportunity for him to pull out of the deal and leave them on the brink of bankruptcy.
Which would be fine, if everything with Jacopo and the bank went well. But if it didn't… if it didn't, he'd need a new Plan B. And Richie, like it or not, was still their Plan B.
He steered through the centre of Montecchiello and pulled into the parking area in front of Tomassi Contracting's office. Luca stood in the doorway waiting for him, and he raised a hand in greeting.
"I'm-a just going into a meeting, Richie. Can I call-a you back in a bit?"
"Oh, right. Well, see, Mista D. I won't take much of your time, but listen. We need to wrap up this deal, bro, and fast."
"I know the closing-a date is approaching, and I want to talk-a to you about that-a." Now would be a good time to convince Richie to delay the close. With everything going on, a couple more weeks to sort it all out would be ideal. He could use the design as an excuse to stall him. And then he'd be able to get both options finalized, as well as determine the outcome of Jacopo's plan.
"Yeah, yeah. Can we meet tomorrow? I need to see your final drawings, man. Everybody's on my back. The bank. My agent. My wife. Jesus. The stress is gonna kill me. I gotta be happy with the plans before we sign off. You told me it all would be settled last week."
Guillermo felt a bubble of hysterical laughter pressing on his chest. Richie was feeling stressed? He blew air out through puffed cheeks. "Sure, sure, Richie. I'm-a not in town this weekend-a, and I've got a few things going on, but I think maybe late next-a week. Let-a me call you once I'm there. Okay?"
"No, sooner, Mista D. Let's talk Monday. I gotta see you this week."
He got out of the car and shook Luca's hand. "Ciao."
Before Luca could respond to Guillermo's initial message, he filled him in on the latest development. "We need to stabilize the fresco right now, before any more plaster fails."
Luca shrugged. "I don't have crew here right now, Guillermo. Just my brother, and me. We can grab a few tools and drive out now to see what we can do temporarily. But I can't commit to major repairs right now. I won't have guys free for another week, maybe two."
Guillermo sighed and closed his eyes. Per favor, Signore. Give me something here. I need a little help.
"Bene. Grazie, Luca. I appreciate whatever you can do today. I'll meet you back there?"
"Si, si."
On his way back to the villa, Guillermo called the large contractor he'd gotten to know on several of his big projects in Firenze. They'd become quite friendly over the years, and Guillermo trusted them. They did quality restoration work, and stayed on schedule and budget, so he made sure they were always short-listed during bids. They often won the contracts. They were expensive, but it was time to call in some favors. He made an appointment to meet with them early in the week to discuss the repairs.
How could all this chaos be happening in one moment in time? If the fear and tension didn't kill him now, it never would.
As he wound up the Cypress lined hillside back toward the villa, and wove between the rough golden limestone buildings of San Quirico d'Orcia, he felt for a moment as though time had stopped. Looking around him, it seemed the same as it had been when he was a boy. Summer heat radiated off of the old buildings, the image shimmering before his eyes. Old women sat on their benches surveying the street. Young people went about their business. Children raced. Laundry on balconies wafted in the summer breeze. Bougainvillea and oleander blossoms quivered against their trellises and fences, the shimmering blonde fields stretching out beyond the edges of town. Strangely, he felt a sweet sense of serenity seep through him like liquid honey, turning him golden warm inside and out.
It was as if the universe were trying to tell him something. Maybe this was the life he was meant to live. Maybe all of Nonno's teaching and love were meant to prepare him for this moment. It seemed to come naturally to him. Who was better qualified to be the steward for the estate, and for the family, than he was, with his profound respect and love of the villa, the land and its history?
Beyond the edges of the village, as he approached the gates of the villa, he glanced up. Soft summer sunlight illuminated the roof from behind, outlining the tower and portico in sharp relief, its outline perfectly proportioned. The image blurred as his eyes filled with tears, and he pulled the car to a stop.
The pale butteryellow limestone walls glowed, with contrasting red geranium blooms flashing at the verges, and tall twisting cypresses silhouetted against the bright cerulean blue of the Tuscan sky. So beautiful. So beautiful. This place where he learned what beauty meant. It was so much a part of him. The architect. The historian. The man.
He loved this villa so much it hurt. He couldn't possibly lose it. It was in his blood. No matter what happened with Jacopo next week. No matter what the bank said. He would find a way to keep it. He had to. A sob convulsed his throat.
Whatever he had to give up, he would. His apartment, his car, his bike. He would sell them all, and take out a mortgage, even if it meant he had to work his entire life to pay it off. What did any of it matter, compared to this, his true home?
No, man, no. I mean, we gotta wrap this session, Mista D. I gave you extra time already, bro. Can't give you no mo'." Mad Richie sat across from Guillermo in his office, filling it like a telephone booth, scratching the ears of his smallest dog, Lil Peppa, who sat in his lap, resembling an unfortunate cross between a Pit Bull and a Bichon Frise. "I gotta get back to the States and get back to my own work."
Guillermo forced a generous smile and scraped a nervous hand across his beard. "I understand. If you can-a just wait another few days, I promise I will complete the–"
"I like you, Mista D, I do. We gotta connection, you an' me. But it's the principle of the thang. I see you doing great work here, yeah, and your rep is first rate. But yo can't con Masta Richie." He paused and shook his hand in an unconscious gesture to adjust the position of his Rolex, while Guillermo held his breath, feeling his heart thudding against his ribs. "It's like, you know what? I pickin' up the vibe that yo is hedgin' and there be somethin' goin' on you don't wanna confide. But I ain't nobody's stooge, bro. I gotta move on."
Guillermo fiddled with his fountain pen, scratching random marks on the tracing paper that lay across the drawings on his desk between them. He found it difficult to meet Richie's earnest gaze, staring instead at the first and feeblest of his three designs, knowing it was wrong on so many levels.
Despite the unusual circumstances, he'd never outright lied to a client before. He prided himself that he was an honest professional and maintained healthy trusting relationships with his clients. It was one of the secrets of his success. And Richie was right, the two of them had connected on some level and had enjoyed working together to set out Richie's wants and needs for the villa. He felt like a pazzo.
He sat back, crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head hoping he wasn't making a huge, unforgivable mistake. But he was determined to make this work, somehow. And this charade had gone on long enough. He chewed his lip, scowling. He never knew the English he'd learned in the States would be put to use right here at home. He hoped it adequate for the job, as he had a lot of explaining to do.
"You are right. I can't lie to you anymore, Richie. There is something I must tell to you."
Richie leaned forward, and the little dog le
t out a yelp of discomfort before a big black palm comforted it.
Guillermo pressed his lips together and cleared his throat. "There is really no easy way to tell you this. And…you must understand this had nothing to do with my family. Only me. But I have been leading you on with this design while I try to work out another option to save my family home."
Richie's eyes widened. This was clearly more than he'd anticipated. "Motha-fucka!" He sounded more astonished than angry, but Guillermo could see the mounting outrage glint in Richie's dark eyes as the realization of what he'd learned sunk in.
"The truth is, I don't want to sell it at all. And soon, very soon, I will know whether my plan to convert part of it to a non-profit historical foundation and art academy will be a success. That's why I need more time."
"Foundation?" Richie scowled. "Yo betta explain the whole thang before I do something I gonna regret, Mista D. I'm a reasonable man, but this sound like you trying to fuck wit me, and nobody fuck with Masta Richie."
Guillermo held up a palm. "Hold on. Per favore. Give me a chance to explain." Sweat bloomed all over his torso. He swiped a hand over his damp brow and over the back of his neck.
"I'm waitin'."
Guillermo filled Richie in on the plan and how he and Clio had been working hard since they first agreed to the sale of the villa. He showed him the alternate plans for the research institute, conference facility and hostelry and gave him a brief overview of how it would work. And then, holding his breath, he pulled out the third set of drawings he'd been working on, his stomach rolling and his throat aching with dread.
"Now, before you comment on the fact that I've been doing all of this behind your back I want to show you one more thing."
He smoothed the roll of drawings out, pressing his hands against the desk top, trying to still their trembling. Everything rode on Guillermo's gut feelings, on his judgement of both Richie's character, the tenuous trust they had built, and his professional instinct about the design solution that would truly meet Richie's family's needs and make them all deliriously happy. Richie could cause them a load of trouble if he chose to be offended by Guillermo's gift, or if he just plain hated it. Guillermo steeled himself to expect the worst.
He started by opening the three-dimensional rendering on his laptop computer and wordlessly taking Richie on a flyover of the alternate property that Fitucci had found, followed by a virtual walk-through of the new villa design.
From time to time, he snuck a sidelong glance at Richie's face, gauging his reaction. His expression began with brooding anger and resistance, but Guillermo judged, as his features softened, that he was becoming intrigued.
"The advantages of this alternate scheme are many. Firstly, it's closer to the city airport. Much easier to come and go. Secondly, you don't have to assume the heavy responsibility for items of historic value that are of no particular interest to you, and instead can spend more on the features that are, such as recreational amenities and technology. And thirdly, without the financial burden of maintaining a historic structure, you are able to spend more of your funds on a truly spectacular high-end renovation–potentially award-winning, if I may be so immodest. With the assistance of a talented interior designer to help you with first rate finishes and furnishings, I believe this would be worthy of an Architectural Digest spread. That's good marketing for you, my friend." Guillermo refrained from mentioning the affect all this high-class potential might have on Richie's tremendous ego.
Guillermo at last raised his eyes to meet Richie's, praying that he'd have the vision to see that this was better for him. Meanwhile, Guillermo considered the consequences. He knew this would mean they had no safety net. He knew they didn't have everything they needed to make the foundation work, not yet, and save it from another turn on the auction block. It was a huge gamble. And still he had no choice but to believe everything would be alright. It had to be.
Richie sat very still, frowning at the computer screen, his eyes darting back and forth across the image frozen there. He glanced over the drawings between them, back at the computer, again at the drawings. His big bling-covered hand traced the lines on the paper as his eyes scanned the plans, jumping from room to room, label to label. Richie's signet ring was enourmous - it had to be four or five carats - sparkling square-cut diamond embedded in it. For a long moment, Guillermo wondered if he had foolishly squandered Richie's considerable wealth, and the salvation it could have provided his family in exchange for an idealistic fantasy.
Guillermo waited, painfully aware of the passing minutes, listening to the murmur of voices in the studio beyond his closed office door, the quiet hum of machinery. He attempted to swallow, his mouth too dry, and he reached to take a sip of his cold caffe.
Richie seemed stunned, confused, dare he think pleased? Richie sat back, his eyes unfocused, and stroked his little dog absentmindedly. Blinking, he sucked his lip between his teeth.
Guillermo drew a breath, filling his too-tight chest, prepared to prompt him, or guide him through the new design, but he needed no assistance.
Richie released a long sigh, almost as though he had stolen the breath from Guillermo's lungs. "My man. My man. I am struggling to understand one thang."
Guillermo leaned forward, watching Richie's face for clues.
"Why?" Richie finally said. "That's what I want to know. Why did you do this?"
Guillermo sat back. He'd explained about the villa, the foundation, hadn't he? "My family home, it is very important to me. I thought–"
"No, no. I mean why this one? You didn't have to do this."
Guillermo glanced down at the drawings for the alternate villa. "But… of course I did. We had an understanding. My actions stole from you and your family, Richie. I could not live with myself if I did not compensate you in some way. If you are displeased–"
"This is mo than compensation, Mista D. This be a mastapiece of design."
Guillermo thought about that. Without surrendering his humility, he did understand what Richie meant.
"Perhaps I can explain this way." He cleared his throat. "Every project I undertake, comes with some fixed elements, si? A place, a user, a program of use, and usually a budget." He waved his hand. "Other minor things, technical and legal, for example. Less important." He searched for a way to explain. "For me to design the perfetto solution, these elements must come together in a way that is–ah…" Clicking his tongue, he struggled to find the words to describe his process. "Villa Cielo Incantato was not the right property for you, Richie. And I was not unbiased. So, therefore, I was unable to locate or incanalato…channel the… uh, the correct answers. You see?"
"I have only one word for you, Mista D."
Guillermo drew a breath, held it, listening to his heart beating in a slow cadence against his ribs.
"Genius, bro."
Guillermo released his breath, the tension draining from his neck and shoulders.
"If I understand what I'm seein' here, I love it. I dig it. I gotta take this back to my foxy lady and give her a chance to see it. Tha's only fair. An' we gotta talk and think it ova. But I have a good vibe about dis." He nodded. "Yeah, I do."
"Would you like to see the property?" Guillermo rolled up the drawings and slipped them into a small plastic tube.
"Hell, yeah. I'm gonna call up Fitucci right now. You gonna come?" Richie grabbed his little dog around the middle like a dumbbell and stood up. Guillermo handed him the tube of drawings.
Guillermo hesitated. He wanted to go, but there were just too many pressures on his time. Too much to do. Richie read his expression. "Don't worry about it. We're cool, bro. I'll call you soon."
Guillermo nodded and stood up.
Richie hesitated and then took a step forward, wrapping his free arm around Guillermo's shoulders, slapping him heavily on the back. He pulled back, his face somber. Then he broke into a radiant grin and planted a loud kiss on each of Guillermo's cheeks.
"An' I'm gonna pay you fo dis extra design work, don't you
worry. I'll pay you for yo time to complete it and execute it."
Guillermo was deeply moved. On his first attempt to speak, the words stuck in his throat, burning. He cleared his throat. Nevertheless, his words came out rough and scratchy.
"No. I cannot allow you to do that, Richie. This is a thing I must do, for myself as much as for you. I feel much guilt for double-crossing you. I must-a do this. You don't owe me anything, caro mio."
Richie peered speculatively at him, his head bobbing slightly in a pensive manner. Then he turned and left, Lil Peppa tucked under one arm.
Guillermo couldn't feel his fingers or toes. A light, weightless feeling filled him, stealing the oxygen from his lungs, replacing it with helium. He might be deliriously happy, or he might be frozen with fear. Or perhaps a bit of both. He was so happy to be free of lies, but now, he was walking a tightrope without a safety net. And it was a long way down.
Chapter 30
Guillermo was back at Villa Cielo Incantato, finding himself drawn here. Too much was at stake. If only he were empowered to do more to guarantee the villa's safety. Though for now he could do nothing but worry.
Worry himself into wakefulness, despite his exhaustion. He paced the empty, echoing halls after Marcella and Martino retired for the night. Attempts to relax and distract himself with books offered no cure for his insomnia. I need to get some sleep.
A glass of warm milk might help.
Pulling his robe more snuggly around him to ward off the chill of the night, he shuffled downstairs in search of his sedative.
The pressure to save the villa and the family weighed heavily on him. He pressed the heel of a hand on his sternum, feeling the hard, hollow place that had plagued him and killed his appetite earlier in the evening, despite Marcella's delicious cooking.
Parliament assembled in two days. The bank remained unsatisfied with their financial pro forma, as they were still a hundred and thirty-five thousand Euros short of a balanced bottom line. Andreas Fitucci had called to say that Richie was in love with the new property. Fitucci had voided the original sales agreement and drafted a new one, despite his skepticism. The d'Aldobrandin's and Villa Cielo Incantato were free again. In a manner of speaking. If this scheme failed, the estate's bankruptcy would be on his head.
The Art of Enchantment (Life is a Journey Book 1) Page 30
