quarantaquattro
Almost two weeks had passed since Lucia had signed Benedetta’s contract. She’d decided to wait and return it after her meeting with Edoardo, to be sure of the final figure. She was thankful for the cooling-off period embedded in the contract, as this little step helped Lucia hang on to some control.
She had called Edoardo to ask if the meeting could be brought forward, but Edoardo refused point blank, insisting that the ninety days had to be waited out, per their contract. So, Lucia’s days dragged by, weighed down by the ticking clock. In the meantime, her heart had found a new and nervous rhythm for another reason.
That reason was Alex.
He had been just as polite and sweet in their interactions, no matter how brief they had been. In fact, he had dropped by some cornetti , left Lucia some flowers and stopped in for a quick morning coffee with La Scuola Rosa’s team, but Lucia couldn’t help but notice that something was missing. A spark, an energy; or perhaps the chemical connection that had recently bonded them. It seemed to have shifted, and not in a good way.
There had been no kissing, let alone sex.
Their relationship suddenly felt a little platonic.
Lucia wondered if perhaps he’d had second thoughts on pursuing her beyond friendship, and that suspicion deflated her spirits considerably. Despite this, a part of her also worried for Alex. Had he dredged up the past with her too quickly? Was he now feeling that trauma all over again? Reliving it? Her mind swirled with confusion and fear for him.
As far as she could tell, through her window at least, he had been keeping his new sleeping schedule. So what was it that had made him withdraw from her?
She vowed to speak to him properly, in the spirit of their previous sharing and honesty, but only once she had dealt with Edoardo. He and the school deserved her full attention, without emotional distraction.
For now, Lucia had to come first.
Edoardo’s bulbous nose was redder than ever, and judging from the line of perspiration gathered across his brow, Lucia could tell that he was just as wound up about the meeting as she was.
It had been twenty-four hours since Lucia had been able to stomach any food. Sips of water were all that she could manage with her low-grade nausea and unsettling anxiety. Light-headed and pale, she sat across from the lawyer at the dining table. Despite the positive outcome she was now confident of, the stress of the past three months had finally truly caught up with her. She refused to let herself relax and soak up the moment until she had signed the contract of sale.
And now was finally the moment.
‘I did it,’ Lucia started directly. ‘I have secured enough funds to purchase Jacopo’s share. It’s still messy and money is coming from a few different avenues, but it’s done. I have paperwork here to verify all this.’ She produced her bank statements, the terms of her loan and Benedetta’s contract and passed them across her dining table.
In that moment, two things suddenly occurred to her: the way Edoardo was unable to meet her eye, and his lack of paperwork. Where were the contracts? What would she be signing? Perhaps sensing her growing awareness, Edoardo’s shoulders curled downwards as far as his belly would allow.
Her stomach plummeted, and she couldn’t help but blurt, ‘ Oddio . . . It’s not happening, is it?’
Edoardo shook his head. ‘ Mi dispiace , Lucia. I really am sorry.’
Lucia stood with such force that her chair toppled behind her, smashing to the floorboards with a crash. Foscari yelped from the shock, darting under the table to take cover.
A cold sweat rose to her skin as the blood drained from her face. ‘What do you mean, you’re sorry? What’s going on?’ Her hands trembled as they pressed against her temples.
‘I accepted another offer,’ he said, and the rosacea across his cheeks glowed cherry-red.
‘Gatti?! You accepted Gatti’s offer? I have been killing myself for months, Edoardo! And I have pulled everyone closest to me with me through this nightmare to secure this deal, just as your terms demanded!’
‘ Ti prego , Lucia, just listen.’ He attempted to extend a placating hand, but she ignored it.
Between defeated sobs she said, ‘I’m done with listening. I’m done with allowing everyone else to hold a slice of my life. This is my school. My future.’ Blotting her cheeks with her sleeve she walked to the calle -facing window and opened it, desperate for air. Her lungs had wound themselves around her heart, and she was struggling to draw a breath. She propped herself against the bench seat and leaned out onto the ledge, breathing as deeply as possible through her panic.
Foscari joined Lucia and sat closely by her side, growling defensively at Edoardo.
Now standing behind his chair, keeping a wide berth between them, Edoardo pleaded with an open hand. ‘Lucia, please. It’s not like that. I didn’t accept Gatti’s offer.’
Lucia’s laboured breath suddenly caught, but she was too upset to face him. ‘Who else would want a stake in this?’
‘Jacopo’s share was purchased by another party. Someone who not only matched Gatti’s offer and your offer, but beat them . . . both.’
Lucia spun around. ‘Why didn’t you call to tell me this?’
‘Off the record, I didn’t feel I needed to. It was in your best interest that I didn’t.’
‘How could that possibly be the case?’
‘Because it was purchased on your behalf. In your name.’
‘What?’
‘The school is yours. All yours.’
Lucia began to shake, and the prior light-headedness returned. She felt like she might collapse. ‘I . . . don’t understand . . .’ she stammered. ‘Who bought it?’
Edoardo took a step forward and gave a kind nod. ‘Alessandro Scarpa.’
‘Alex!’ Lucia knocked loudly on La Commedia’s door. ‘Alex! I need to talk to you.’
It took several moments before he eventually opened the door. ‘Lucia, what’s going on?’
‘Please, let me in. We need to talk.’
He gestured that she should step inside. ‘Sure.’
‘Edoardo tells me you bought Jacopo Molin’s share of my school.’
Alex simply nodded. ‘Yes, I did.’
Lucia wasn’t angry, despite her balled fists. What coursed through her veins was a mix of shock and frustration. ‘Alex, I had this under control. I had the money all organised. I was going to do this myself. For myself. Why did you do it?’
‘I thought it would help you.’
Lucia closed her eyes for a moment to process his words. ‘I had already pulled all this together, Alex. Myself, with Mariella and Francesco’s support. It was all done.’
He sighed. ‘I know. But . . . I also know . . .’ Alex stopped himself.
‘ What do you know?’
‘I wanted to protect you.’
Lucia swallowed and her eyes narrowed. ‘From what?’
At first Lucia didn’t know if Alex was upset with her, or with himself. But watching him drop in a deep squat, catching his head in his hands, persuaded her to believe the latter. ‘I know about the book deal, Lucia.’
Lucia’s breath hitched and she stepped back a few paces. ‘How?’
‘I came to see you a couple of weeks ago. I was going to ask you and Foscari to come for a walk. I stepped inside. No one was by the desk. So I waited. But then I heard your voice coming from the apartment, and Foscari was barking. I overheard your conversation with that woman. Your agreement to the deal.’ He looked up and caught her eyes. ‘I’m so sorry. It wasn’t my intention to eavesdrop . . . but then I just panicked . . .’
Her eyes widened. ‘You listened to a private conversation. A business deal.’
‘Lucia, I did what I did to save you.’
‘I don’t need saving. And I don’t need anyone else spying on me. I’ve had twenty years of that.’
‘I never meant to. It was an accident.’ He rose to his feet and walked over to her. ‘No one could ever understand what you and I have experienced, Lucia. It’s something we have to relive day after day on repeat. It’s a unifying history that has tethered us together.’ Catching her cheeks in his hands, which she didn’t fight, he said, ‘You don’t need to sell your story now. You can keep this safe.’
The warmth of his rough palms against her skin quelled some of the frustration that had lit her eyes alight. The way his gentle touch soothed and comforted her drew her in. She knew that Alex had done what he did out of care for her. She could understand that. But all she felt in that emotional moment was a sense of detachment. As if these past three months of planning had been pulled from under her. As if his grand gesture had stolen her agency and independence – even if that wasn’t his intention.
It took her a moment, but Lucia eventually found her voice. ‘Alex, I don’t want to owe you or anyone anything. It’s that simple. I wanted to do this my way, in a way that made sense for La Scuo—’
‘You owe me nothing, Lucia. I want you to have the school. It’s yours. I don’t need the money back. It was part of my inheritance from my nonni’s estate. Venezia meant so much to them, I know they would have wanted it put towards something like this. Something so meaningful.’
‘As if I – me , of all people – could ever accept it under these circumstances.’
‘Please. Lucia.’ He reached out and took her hand, and that same warm, calloused comfort drew her in.
But it was not enough.
Exhaling, she said, ‘I . . . I need some space to process all this.’
Alex nodded. ‘ Certo .’
‘It still doesn’t make sense. It’s just . . .’ Alex nodded again, just as she pulled her fingers from his grasp. ‘I have a signed publishing contract across the road that’s due to be returned. I have to think about it. This was never my plan.’
She slipped from La Commedia, leaving Alex alone among the ruins of their shared past, with only the tainted fragments of his good intentions to keep him company.
Later that night, Mariella and Francesco sat propped on Lucia’s bed, eyes wide and mouths hanging open in disbelief.
Francesco was the first to break ranks, turning his head in the direction of the calle . ‘This is like a scene from a movie.’
Lucia’s hands tensed mid-air out of frustration. ‘And you can imagine how delighted I am about it.’ Reaching for Foscari she gave him a little squeeze.
‘But what do you mean he doesn’t want the money?’ Mariella removed her glasses and rubbed her eyes tiredly. ‘It doesn’t make sense.’
‘He must have plenty to spare,’ Francesco added with a raised eyebrow.
‘I don’t care in the least about his financials. I just hate the position I’m now in.’
Francesco raised a cautious finger. ‘Hate is a very strong word to use, I think.’
‘I’m . . . disappointed , then. To have to choose between the original plan – sell my face and story and deal with whatever follows and use the money to pay Alex back – or, tear up the publishing deal and surrender to Alex, and be forever in his debt.’
Mariella’s expression was contemplative. ‘And did he give you a reason for doing this?’
‘He overhead my conversation with Benedetta when I accepted the book deal. And he wanted to save me from it.’
Again, a pair of incredulous jaws dropped almost comically. Lucia shrugged. She had to admit that Alex’s decision had helped her. His actions, albeit a force of the hand, had given her the freedom to choose her next move.
‘ Cazzo ,’ breathed Francesco. ‘He actually did that?’
Lucia nodded, dropping her lips to Foscari’s crown. ‘And it’s all in my name.’ She leaned across to her nightstand, collected the contract and passed it to the pair.
Their eyes scanned the document, and Mariella said, ‘ Che strano . What an odd final agreed value. With the extra two euros in the total.’
Despite herself, the corners of Lucia’s lips curled into a grin. ‘Edoardo never told Gatti he had a counteroffer from Alex. Just as he never told me about it. All he legally required, according to the contracts, was for Gatti’s offer and my offer to be beaten. And Alex did. He countered my euro over Gatti with an extra one. So, two.’ She held up two fingers and sighed.
Francesco smirked then smiled in the direction of La Commedia. ‘That man is all class.’
Seeing Francesco affirm Alex’s actions somewhat smothered the festering seeds of disappointment and frustration Lucia felt. She accepted that Alex’s action had earned him a place of respect in Francesco’s mind, and by rights, it should in hers too. He had taken a risk, put himself and his money on the line. But why?
All for you, Lucia. He did it for you.
Realising that she had been abrupt and insensitive towards Alex’s gesture of benevolence during their exchange, Lucia felt ashamed.
Her eyes welled with tears, blurring her vision. As the heat rose in her cheeks she stopped fighting them and allowed the tears to fall. They came tumbling and pouring from her, and she doubled over Foscari.
Mariella and Francesco shared a knowing look, and both got up to join her at the end of the bed. There, in that little history-soaked apartment, filled with memories and ghosts alike, Lucia succumbed to her future, wrapped in the love of the closest thing she had to family.