Chapter 20 #2
I shook my head, studying her face. “American.” She had my dad’s brown eyes and straight nose, and if it were possible, that freaked me out even more.
“Ah. So sked-jool and not shed-yool.”
My brain seemed to be processing everything she said on a ten-second delay, so there was an awkward silence while she waited for my response. Eventually I nodded. “Yes, I say schedule.”
She gave me a practiced smile—one I’d given my own clients a thousand times when the jury was still out on whether they had any brains—then picked up the pen and clicked the top. “So, what brings you to a lawyer in Italy?”
Morbid curiosity? Toxic indulgence? Stupidity? “I’m…” Oh God. What was the reason I made up for this appointment? Panic washed over me as I stared blankly at the woman.
Her brows furrowed, and she tilted her head. “The intake form mentioned something about a business?”
Oh! Yes! That was it. My fake business. I nodded. “I’m going to be opening a winery.”
She jotted something down. “Very nice. And it’s here in Southern Italy, I assume?”
I shook my head. “It’s actually a few hours north of here in Tuscany.”
“What city, exactly?”
“Montepulciano.”
Camilla looked up. “Montepulciano?”
Shit. I wasn’t thinking. I should’ve picked a different village, not the one my father was from—our father. But it was too late, so all I could do was nod.
My half sister’s eyes moved over my face, lingering a few seconds longer than necessary. I was relieved when she went back to writing on her pad.
“Are you opening this business alone? Or will there be others involved?”
“I’ll have one partner.”
“And their name?”
Shit. I drew a blank trying to make up an Italian-sounding name. The delay caused her to lift her eyes and watch me again.
“Matteo Lucchese.”
“What percentage will each of you own?”
Finally, an easy question. “Fifty.”
Camilla held my eyes. Was she staring too long? Did she tilt her head the way a person does when something feels familiar? Or was I imagining it?
Again, she went back to writing on her legal pad.
Get ahold of yourself, Allegra. You’ve argued before the Court of Appeals while inwardly freaking out and won your case. I took a deep breath and forced myself to focus, to stop getting lost in my own head.
“Tell me a little about the business.”
I opened my mouth, and a string of lies came out as I described what I knew about Matteo’s wine business.
The vineyard would be fifteen acres or about six hectare, Bordeaux—dominated by red varieties such as merlot and cabernet sauvignon, but we also planned to do a reserve blend.
“My partner will handle the growing, and I’ll handle everything else—keeping the books, marketing, sales, advertising. ”
My improved performance seemed to settle whatever doubt I’d seen in her face, and Camilla went back to taking notes as I spoke. When I was done, she set down her pen and began talking about the different types of business formations available.
It gave me what I’d been waiting for—an opportunity to stare at her.
Her eyes weren’t just brown, they had the same gold flecks that both my dad and I had.
Matteo had told me they reminded him of the sunflower fields all over Italy, but I’d never seen what he meant until now.
Her golden-brown irises were framed with a darker ring around the edge, like the sunflower’s center is framed by its petals.
Flecks of gold gave the illusion of seeds scattered in the circle, and a halo of yellow streaked around the pupil, making it look like the petals had caught the sun.
Her hair was slightly lighter than mine, and the ends curled a bit, which made me wonder if she straightened hers like I did mine. She kept talking, filling the room with words that floated in the air around me, but I didn’t bother to try and catch.
Eventually, she stopped. “What do you think?” she asked. “Does the cooperative sound better to you or the SRL, which is like the American LLC?”
“Umm…which do you recommend?”
“I think the cooperative, since it’s agricultural.”
“Okay. That sounds good.”
She put her pen to the paper once again. This time when she was done writing, she tapped her pen against the pad. Her eyes narrowed a bit. “What is the address of this business?”
My eyes flared, which I was pretty certain she caught. The only address in Tuscany I knew was my grandmother’s. I didn’t even know another street name. So I took a deep breath and hoped it didn’t ring a bell.
“Via delle Peitrose, five.”
Camilla’s eyes jumped back and forth between mine. Every second that ticked by felt like an hour. I could’ve sworn she was trying to place me. Eventually, she nodded. “Why don’t I leave you to think about things, yes?”
I breathed out. “That would be great. Thank you.”
She held her hand up, gesturing toward the door. “Have a good day.” Yet she didn’t move to stand, which came off as kind of rude. Dismissive, even.
“Uhhh…thank you for your time.”
She nodded once and kept staring at me. Her scrutiny was more than I could handle, so I stood and rushed for the door. I couldn’t wait to get the hell out of here. My hand was on the brass knob when she spoke again. It was only two words, but enough to make my legs wobble.
“Allegra, wait.”