He rose from his seat and pecked her on both cheeks.
“Dante,” she said, her tone ice-cold. “It’s nice to see you…alone…”
Nice to see him, was that all she could say after walking out on him six months ago? He wished he could say the same. Clearing his throat, he heard himself mumble, “It’s been awhile…please sit down.” He drew back a chair. She removed her wrap, handed it to a nearby waiter, and seated herself at the table.
He let a long breath out and inhaled. “Would you like a drink? Chianti as usual?”
“No, not Chianti,” she said, holding her slim, well-manicured hand over her wine glass. “I’d prefer a mineral water, please.”
Mineral water? This wasn’t the Carla he knew. That one enjoyed both her wine and her food. He’d noted that although she looked fabulous, she appeared to have lost a few pounds and her body looked well-toned.
“Very well.” He looked at the waiter. “A Chianti for me, Mario, and a mineral water for the lady. We’ll order in a few minutes, thank you.”
He fixed his gaze on Carla. “You look well.”
“I’m following a keep-fit regime.” She smiled. “I work out with weights five times a week and I watch what I eat these days.”
That didn’t sound like the Carla he knew at all. That one loved pastas, steaks, rich sauces, desserts, and the odd glass of wine. He wondered what might have brought about such a change.
The waiter returned after a couple of minutes, uncapped the bottle of mineral water, and poured it into a glass. Then he uncorked the wine, offered Dante some, and then departed.
Taking a sip and then a deep breath, Dante asked the inevitable. “So, Carla…what’s this all about?” Why did you leave me so suddenly? If he spoke those words, they might catch in his throat like broken glass causing him sharp pain.
She looked at him, waiting for him to speak. He could only hazard a guess as to what she might be thinking.
There was a long pause in the conversation, a seemingly never-ending wall of silence.
“Dante…I know I owe you an apology…I made a big mistake.” She chewed her bottom lip.
“Mistake?”
Another waiter appeared with two menus, waiting to take their order.
Dante wagged a finger. “Give us a few minutes, Franco, please.”
The waiter departed.
“Yes…I…” It was unusual for Carla to be at a loss for words. She was so self-assured. “I left you because I thought I had fallen in love with someone else.”
He gulped. That had crossed his mind, of course.
“Well who is he?” He demanded, wanting to thump whoever it was. Whoever had stolen his woman.
“Giuseppe Ponti.”
His mouth dry, heart racing, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Ponti? But he’s married to my sister, Angelina, you know that. What got into you?” He spat the words out as if they were poisonous venom he had no antidote for. He had been expecting another man, but not Ponti of all people. He hated him with a vengeance.
“I know. I couldn’t help it. I fell in love with him.” Her voice softened. “I am truly sorry. It was the biggest mistake of my life. Being with him made me realize I had the real thing with you all along.”
“So why are you telling me this now, Carla? Six months down the line?” He narrowed his gaze.
“Because I want to come back to you.”
He could see the yearning in her eyes. Is it love or something else? Can she be trusted? She wanted to come back to him? He hadn’t seen that one coming—hadn’t she gone forever? So the earlier acerbic meeting in front of Joanne must have been all a façade to throw him off the scent of what she really wanted.
“Oh?”
“Well, say something…” She searched his eyes.
“First, that wasn’t what I thought this meeting was about.”
“Why did you think I wanted to see you?” She was pouting now, the pout that at first seemed so endearing, now seemed childlike.
“The business merger, of course, between both families.”
Now it was her turn to say, “Oh!” She looked a little deflated. What had she expected? For him to have taken her back without question? When she had shared the bed of Giuseppe Ponti for the past few months and maybe even longer, his own brother-in-law? He’d spent long enough pining for her to come back to him, and the longer it went on, the easier it became. If she’d asked to come back sooner, maybe he would have relented. On the other hand, the thought of her and Ponti intimate with one another made him want to retch.
He shook his head. The door closed tight on the relationship they once shared. “Whatever you and I had, Carla, is now over and done with. The only reason we need to meet is for business purposes.”
“So that woman I saw you with yesterday, she is your new lay?” She spat out the words, her mouth twisted, making her beautiful face appear ugly for a moment.
“No, certainly not. That was Joanne Smith, a well-respected journalist. It was a business lunch, no more. She was interviewing me.” There was no need to make Carla jealous. She had broken the trust in their relationship by having an affair.
“I see,” she said, her face softening. She licked her full red lips and then let out a breath. Maybe she thought she still had a chance with him.
“No, you don’t see at all, Carla. You and I are over for good. Finito. There is no us, no Dante and Carla the ‘golden couple’, anymore. I loved you with such passion and you walked away, leaving me without so much as a backward glance.”
He detected a flicker of regret in her eyes. Maybe she was sorry and now regretted her actions. She stretched across the table, placing her hand on his. “Please let me explain, Dante…”
He hesitated for a moment and drew his hand away. “What’s the point, Carla? I just don’t care, to be honest.” She had well and truly snuffed that candle out.
“Please,” she implored.
He looked at her tear-stained eyes. “Okay,” he said, “but first we eat, then you explain.” No matter how hurt he was, he needed closure for himself in order to move on with his life. This was as much for him as it was for her.
She nodded as if grateful he allowed her an audience.
After dinner, which in the end he hadn’t the appetite for, he ordered two coffees. He gazed at her with new eyes. How could he have known so little about the woman he had wanted to share the rest of his life with?
Oh, he’d known all the essentials about her family, her upbringing, her career. But he knew nothing at all about her feelings for Giuseppe. Ponti was twenty years her senior. He gulped when she revealed the affair had been going on for the past ten years, sick to his stomach that Carla had only been a sixteen-year-old school girl when it started, whereas Ponti was a thirty-six-year-old married man. If it wasn’t for her tender years at the time, he wouldn’t be listening to this right now.
“I tried to break it off, Dante,” she explained. “But he wouldn’t allow it.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Wouldn’t allow you to?”
“You don’t understand what it was like…when I was young he threatened to ruin my reputation. It would have killed my parents, my family…” She was starting to sob now. “He continued to have a hold over me. I had broken it off when I met you, but I feared he would tell my secret to others and it would only be a question of time…”
“So why did you go back to him?”
“Because…he kept promising me he would leave Angelina, and when he actually did it, I felt guilty for splitting up his family. Like a fool, I believed he loved me so much that he’d done it all for me. But when I left you and we moved into his town apartment, things went wrong within a short space of time.”
Was she expecting him to feel sorry for her? The woman who had taken his heart when she abandoned him? Why hadn’t his sister told him that when Ponti left home, he was with Carla? Maybe she hadn’t wanted to hurt him when she was in so much pain herself.
“How did I fit
into all of this then, Carla?” He scratched his chin. She seemed oblivious to his grief.
“I’m sorry, Dante, I wasn’t thinking about you at all. Can’t you see I’d waited years for Giuseppe to show his love for me, and I thought now he had at last?”
“Thought he had?”
“Yes. After we’d been together for a few weeks, Angelina called at the apartment, asking to see me. At first I didn’t want to see her, but then I let her in and we sat and had coffee and talked. She told me I wasn’t the only young woman Giuseppe had been seeing for the past ten years.”
That figured. Ponti lived a life close to the edge and knocked around with all sorts of gangsters. There had even been rumors of him running a brothel. Angelina had never accepted any of it, pushing all thoughts of her husband’s misdemeanors to one side. Maybe it was because she enjoyed the lifestyle she lived and was able to box it all off.
“Why aren’t I the least surprised?” He scowled.
Carla drew a breath. “I was amazed Angelina didn’t seem angry. I discovered he hadn’t left his wife and family for me as I’d thought. His wife had plucked up the courage to throw him out and commence with divorce proceedings…”
“Oh…” was all Dante could manage to say.
He hadn’t realized she filed for divorce; he was so caught up in his own pain…he felt awful now. He resolved to be more supportive in the future now Ponti was no longer around. He was so caught up in his own thoughts, he was no longer paying attention to Carla.
“So I wondered…” She paused. “If we could start over, do you think?”
He’d always complied with her wishes, but now he just couldn’t any longer. Alpha female Carla now seemed such a little girl at heart. “I don’t know what to say, Carla, to be honest. I mean, I do have some sympathy for your situation. You were coerced by an older man at such a tender age. I could never even consider taking you back. That chapter in our life is now closed.”
She took a sip of her coffee and looked up at him with such sad, woeful eyes that for a moment he thought his heart might burst.
***
Damn. Joanne replayed the tape over again. There was no doubt about it—the last part of the interview with Dante hadn’t recorded for some reason. She should have stopped the interview and turned the tape over, but she’d been so absorbed in what he was telling her. He’d led an amazing life. She would need to see him to check out some facts and dates. She had managed to scribble some details down in her notepad during the interview, but there was nothing like getting all the facts correct, especially for a prestigious magazine like Life Today. Her editor would be on her case if she messed up. Polly Montgomery wasn’t the forgiving sort, although in her defense, she was firm but fair.
She lifted the phone and dialed; it went through to Dante’s voice mail again. She left a brief message explaining she would need to check out some facts with him and over the phone would do.
In her mind, she imagined him with Carla. Maybe they had patched things up last night and were enjoying a long morning in bed together. And who could blame them?
Oh well. Time to get on with constructing the article. She’d also need to get in touch with the magazine photographer, Jackson Byrne, who wasn’t her favorite person at the magazine, to arrange a photo shoot with Dante. It could be arranged at his hotel suite, maybe outside the hotel and inside the restaurant, or even at work for the organization.
She switched on her laptop and opened up a blank page. Article heading? Playboy Plays Father Christmas? From Sicily to Cincinnati? The last trip he’d told her he arranged was for a terminally ill child to go on the holiday of a lifetime to the U.S. The title should encapsulate what this man was all about. Dante Alphonso: Dream Maker! She liked it. It would serve as a working title for now, at least. No doubt, Polly would change it anyhow at some point, but for the time being, it gave her some focus.
She began typing away as she listened to the tape.
Sicilian born, self-made millionaire, Dante Alphonso had a dream as a child and that was to become a rich man. Not only did that dream come true, allowing him to live an extravagant lifestyle travelling all over the world, fine dining, purchasing several homes in places as far apart as the U.S., the Seychelles, France, and Spain, but these days he makes other people’s dreams come true. The hopes and wishes of terminally ill children.
In its first year, The Children’s Hope and Dream Foundation met the dreams of thirty-five very sick or terminally ill children. Sending some of them to places like Cincinnati, swimming with dolphins in Florida, visiting Father Christmas in Lapland, and meeting players from the Real Madrid football team, to name but a few of his benefactor bequests.
Amelia Blake dreamed of becoming a ballet dancer. The organization allowed her to achieve her dream by arranging for her to meet the Royal Ballet troupe at Covent Garden. She watched them perform her favorite ballet, Swan Lake. Afterward she met the troupe for a very special dinner, returning at a later date to take part in a special performance with them for her friends and family.
Samuel Jones yearned to pilot a light aircraft. He achieved his dream two months ago. Samuel, who suffered from a rare childhood illness, passed away a fortnight ago, still talking to everyone he knew about that special day.
Dante Alphonso was an amazing man. Not to mention handsome, attentive, and sexy. That Carla woman was so lucky to have someone as selfless and appreciative of women as him.
She’d never had much luck with men. Her career had come first, something potential suitors couldn’t seem to cope with. She loved her job at Life Today. It was ethical and empathic toward people who achieved a lot with their lives, taking special interest toward those who gave back to society. Perfect for Dante Alphonso, in fact, as the magazine had a high readership and was held in great esteem among the publishing world.
She continued working on the bare bones of the article for about an hour. That was the great thing about her editor, she allowed her the freedom of working from home when possible.
She was disturbed by her phone ringing.
“Hello, Joanne Smith…speaking…”
“Buona sera, Joanne.” There was no mistaking Dante’s deep, resinous tones, sending a shiver down her spine. “You wanted me to fill you in on some facts?”
“Yes, please…you can do so over the phone right now if your schedule is too busy to meet me?” she prompted.
“No, not at all…I would much prefer it if we met up in person. How about I send my driver to collect you and bring you to my hotel suite? In about an hour?”
Her mouth parched and, at a loss for words, her heart thudded beneath her blouse. “Yes, yes…that would be fine…” Her hand shook as she replaced the receiver on its cradle.
Joanne took a quick shower and slipped into a royal blue silk dress that flattered her curves and a pair of strappy high heels. All the while asking herself why she was dressing up just to go check out some facts?
Because she fancied him, of course!
She didn’t need a reminder. When was the last time she was alone in a bachelor’s apartment? Not for a long time. The last one had been in university, and the man in question, if you could call him that, had dirty laundry, newspapers, empty beer cans, and carryout wrappers strewn all over the place. Not conclusive to romance.
She heard Dante’s Mercedes draw up outside at six p.m. on the dot. Fair play to him, when he said he would do something, he did it and it was on the dot. Her last romance, if you could call it that, was with a man who kept her waiting. That was ten months ago. He’d thought nothing of turning up twenty minutes late for a date, or on one or two instances, not at all. The final straw had been when he promised to escort her to a West End play she’d been longing to see and phoned at the last minute to let her down. That was the death knell for their relationship.
After that, she vowed to remain a bachelorette for the rest of her days.
She took one last glance at her appearance in the hall mirror and headed for the car.<
br />
***
Dante let out a breath as Joanne walked into the room. She no longer looked like the sporty girl in a tracksuit with hair scraped back in a ponytail he had seen that first day, or the smart, savvy business-suited lady at the hotel restaurant the second day. Now she looked…well…all woman.
Her chestnut hair fell in waves on her shoulders; the silk dress she wore skimmed her well-placed curves like a second skin and displayed an impressive cleavage. A woman any man would be pleased to have on his arm. He inhaled a deep breath and let it out again. “Welcome to my humble abode.”
She smiled. There was such warmth behind her eyes. “It’s anything but humble, Dante. This has to be the most luxurious suite I’ve ever seen in my life!”
Her eyes widened as she looked right and left. He liked that. She seemed awestruck by her opulent surroundings. Whereas, someone like Carla took all this for granted.
“One of the perks as owner of this hotel, but if I am honest, there is an even better suite of rooms on the top floor.”
He admitted he took a lot for granted too. This room with its marble floors, mirrored walls interspersed with mosaic tiles, was very grand. Even the fountain in the middle of the room was magnificent. Yes, he was a lucky man.
“So the rooms upstairs,” she inquired, “who stays there?”
“Well, apart from some famous celebrities you would certainly know, at the moment there is a sheik staying there.”
She arched her brows. “With all his wives?”
He laughed. “No, just one wife and his entourage.” This woman was so charming, so simple and petite. The total opposite of Carla, in fact. She would not be enthralled by any of this.
“I suppose I was making an assumption…”
“You were indeed. Now where are my manners, let me take your wrap and would you like a drink?”
“No manservant?”
He laughed again. “No, not on this occasion. I thought it was better we dined alone.” For a moment, he detected a suspicious look in her eyes. “Have no worries…it’s because I have personal information I want to share with you that I’d rather we were alone.”
The Sicilian's Proposition Page 3
