Chapter 4 ~ Isabella #2
The car comes to a stop at a large flight of stairs leading to a pair of glass front doors.
The driver gets out and opens the door on my father's side.
As my father steps out, he adjusts his suit jacket.
Reaching back, he holds out his large hand for my mother as he looks around as if he could care less if she takes it or not.
My mother gracefully places her tiny hand in his and steps out. My father closes the door, leaving Rebekah and me behind in the car.
Well, all righty then!
A very tall figure appears at the top of the grand staircase and begins to skip down the steps two at a time while I watch from my window.
It appears to be his typical stride based on his height and the length of his legs.
I can't help but notice how big this guy is as soon as he stops at our door to open it.
I can only see the top of his thighs; the rest of his body disappears over the car door.
A huge hand reaches down and grabs the door handle, popping it open and standing aside while waiting for my sister and me to depart.
He's got to be over 6'5. I'm tall, but he makes me feel tiny, and that's unusual for me, as I look up, up, up till I can see his face. He looks to be in his thirties. He has dark brown hair, slicked back; a massive chest; and arms so thick, I’m betting he has to get his clothes made just for him.
You could never get a shirt to fit this guy in any regular store.
Dark sunglasses cover his eyes, and he tilts his head slightly down, catching me looking up at him.
He gives us a nod and goes back to looking straight above our heads like a statue. I get a few little flutters in my tummy, but not from nerves. He’s what Anna calls "hot." I’m thinking I’ll pass on the gardener. I’ll take the big guy who makes me feel small, as I have always wanted to feel.
Holy emotional whiplash, Izzy! Get your head on straight.
I went from scared to, I’m OK, back to scared, then to happy, and jumped right horny for the big guy. Mentally shaking my head, I grip my purse tighter. I don’t think my pills are working. I never feel about men like this, but then again, I’ve never met a man this big before.
Rebekah is already taking the lead with my mother, coming to stand slightly behind my father, who is standing at the base of the stairs.
I stood there frozen, looking up at the majestic Tuscan mansion before me. I can't move. It is so breathtaking. The house, if you can call it a house, is elegant.
Each set of double French doors that runs along the top level is designed with sleek lines of tan stucco and carved stone arches above them.
Each one opens up to a small balcony with a small table and chair set.
Lush pots of geraniums in bright red are set off to each side of the balcony, adding a pop of colour.
It just makes me want to sit there and drink coffee in the morning.
It's like something out of a book. I'm used to the grandeur and used to living in a mansion that set the stage for opulence. But this! This home is beautiful and elegant. It's like a little piece of Italy landed right in the middle of Chicago and I'm awestruck.
"Isabella! Would you please stop gawking at everything and get over here?" My mother hisses at me.
I skim my hands over the front of my dress to make sure that I don't have any wrinkles. I pass one hand over my butt, feeling to see if it's still dry. I was pretty sweaty sitting on those leather seats. The cool air feels nice on my body. I hear a faint, deep chuckle from behind me.
The big guy is watching me pat my ass. Oh God! Get it together, Izzy!
Tucking my little red clutch under my arm, I flip my hair back over my shoulders, making sure that the thick mass of black hair is slick down and straight.
I smooth my hand over the top of my head, making sure I don't have any flyway strands standing straight up.
I square my shoulders, take my clutch in hand, and step up to my father's side.
This is it! This is where I meet my fate. Bullets or cats.
My father takes the lead by going up the steps first, and we all follow behind like the demure, refined women we are. Well, my mother and Rebekah are, I just want to run back to the pod and check for fish, or maybe sneak off to that dock and start that sketch before the light changes.
The front door opens as we get closer, and a gorgeous couple emerges onto the vast granite porch above us, stopping between the enormous stone lions flanking both sides of the top step and waiting for us hand-in-hand, smiles plastered on their faces.
I take them in and my heart drops. They are a beautiful couple which only makes me think they made even more beautiful sons.
This confirms my inner dread that I will be a massive disappointment to them.
I take my time, letting my family lead the way in the hopes that no one would see me until my father joins them to introduce everyone.
I look down, watching every move I make to avoid embarrassing myself as well as everyone else by tripping, and I silently beg any God who will hear me that I disappear into the background and become invisible.
The huge older gentleman extends a hand out to my father, shaking it hard.
I'm assuming this is him, Mr. Russo. "Welcome, welcome friends.
" His bright smile beams at my father, his grey eyes crinkling at the corner.
"I'm so happy that this day has finally arrived.
Please, please come on in. Let's grab ourselves a drink before dinner, shall we?
" He turns, placing a hand on my father's shoulder to guide him inside.
With her hand extended towards the house, the lovely woman speaks softly. "Ladies, proceed this way." As she glides behind the males with my mother and Rebekah leaving me four steps down to watch as I get my wish. No one noticed me.
Mrs. Russo is shorter than my mother and has blonde hair that has streaks of almost pure silver that make it shimmer in the sun. There isn't a blemish on her face, and although the corner of her lovely blue eyes crinkles when she smiled, it only adds to her beauty. She is gorgeous.
I watch these magnificent people approach the open door and walk through, chatting away with each other, so comfortable in their own skin.
Finally, I move up the steps, reaching the top without falling.
I look back down at the big guy and he is watching me.
His mouth quirks up at the corner in an attempt at a smile.
He gives his head a slight nod like he’s saying: "You got this.
" I smile back and nod my silent thanks. I turn and head to the door.
Everyone is heading off to an open door to the left, and I take a few minutes to examine Mr. Russo, and I can't help but think he is beautiful for a man. I don't know if older men are even called beautiful, but Amato Russo is striking.
His salt and pepper hair is styled short on the sides and longer on top, giving it a velvety appearance.
His beard is dark with some grey streaks running through it, and he has intense grey eyes that crease at the corner when he smiles.
His strong thighs, enormous chest, and broad shoulders give me the impression that he works out, and unlike my father, he does not have a pouch on his tummy.
If it's any indication of what Alexander might look like, oh my God!
Did someone switch my Diazepam for a female version of Viagra or what the hell?
Hormone’s much!
As I puff out a breath, I cast one more glance over myself. I regret wearing red. It's not like I can blend in, disappear into a corner, and fade into the background.
I'm a big red beacon of "Here I am!"
Taking my eyes off my future father-in-law, I can’t help but stop dead in my tracks.
A twelve-foot-tall stained glass window depicting an Italian village scene is featured in the centre of the top of a double staircase which winds around the upper balcony on the top floor of the house.
A big, cream-and-gold-upholstered couch sits in the centre, under the window.
The sun shining through the window casts a rainbow of colours across the marble foyer, catching my eye.
My attention is drawn back to the floor at my feet, cast in a multitude of colours, noting the large ten-foot round Tuscan medallion set into the Calacatta Gold marble flooring, each curve cut to perfection, making the Emperador dark marble stand out.
An ornate mahogany table sits in the centre of the intricate design, with a flower arrangement in the middle.
Again, I'm awe-struck by the elegance of my surroundings, forgetting to move along with the others.
Seeing movement out of the corner of my eye, I see that everyone seems to be walking over to the left side of the foyer, where a set of gilded double doors are open to what I assume will be a sitting room.
Taking one last glance at the magnificent stained glass window, I turned to catch up with the group.
I can hear my high heels clicking across the floor, and try as I might, I can't step any lighter to stop the sound from echoing off the walls.
The closer to the doors I get, the more my stomach churns, which brings on the need to pee.
Damn it!
I know I can't hold this off and asking to use the washroom before I even get to be introduced to my soon-to-be in-laws is far from proper etiquette.
Taking a chance, I hunt to see if I can observe any doors that might lead to a washroom.
I check to make sure no one is looking back at me.
I side-step down a hall, making sure to use my tiptoes to stop the echo of my shoes.
I figure privacy is better in a situation like this.
Turning down another long hallway, I spot an older woman standing by a buffet table. I'm thinking she's a maid because she's got on a black uniform and is fussing with the ample trays of coffee and cakes set about on the table. "Excuse me?" I whisper.
She whips around and jumps, eyes wide. "Oh, my dear... you scared the daylights out of me." Her hand goes to her chest and she shakes her head.
“I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. I need your help," I whisper again.
Her smile grows soft. "My name is Maria." She reaches out with her hand to grasp mine. With a gentle shake, she holds on to it, softly patting the top with her other hand. "What can I help you with, sweetheart?”