Chapter Four #3
Hector returned with his pad and some soft bread in brown paper bags, its delicious, yeasty aroma reaching them as he also placed a small white-glass lamp on their table. ‘Pizza marinara is available, Jade, your favourite.’
‘Perfetto,’ she declared.
Leo put down his menu and fell easily into Italian, the early evening sun turning his eyes the colour of the lake. ‘And black truffle ravioli for me.’
Hector scribbled on his pad and then whisked off towards the kitchen.
Leo gazed up Via Plinio as the cathedral’s bells began their deep, soft tolling and a flock of pigeons clattered into the air. ‘It’s strange, but also great to be back.’
‘But from our conversation in Suite Two, you already have plans to leave Como again.’ She made certain to keep her voice pleasant, as if it didn’t matter that when he’d gone last time he’d left her cradling a broken heart.
He frowned, his black brows clashing over his nose. ‘I haven’t begun looking into my next step. But when I find the right business, there will be no partners to screw things up. No being outvoted by a constant round of two against one.’
His answer lit a fuse to Jade’s anxieties.
Pressing a hand to an ache spearing her forehead, she replied tartly.
‘You’re lucky to have that option. One of Joey’s kids is arriving at Pensione Three Sisters for the weekend and has gaily invited the other.
They’ll soon be my partners. Your two-against-one scenario could easily happen to me unless I can buy them out. ’
Leo raised both eyebrows. ‘It’s a tidy little hotel. Mairead was what Mum calls “canny”. When she downshifted after Rocco died, it seemed like she put herself and her new business in a comfortable financial position. Is it viable for you to run alone?’
Jade shrugged. ‘Workwise, yes, of course. Financially, it’s hard to be certain without knowing the precise market value or likely interest rates, but I think so.
’ She recounted her afternoon meeting with the commercialista.
Gran had always given Jade a profit share and she wasn’t one to waste it on Gucci.
She’d receive her portion of Gran’s savings too and could trim her salary if necessary.
They chatted idly about the hospitality trade in Como until Mia sailed up with two steaming plates, a black apron swathing her narrow hips, silver-streaked hair up and her brown eyes twinkling. ‘Buon appetito.’ She deposited their plates with a flourish and hovered expectantly.
Jade’s cheeks heated at the naked interest in Mia’s eyes that compelled her to introduce Leo, realising the older woman probably thought they were on a date.
‘Mia and Hector rent these premises from Pensione Three Sisters, so we’re friends, Leo.
’ They’d taken the tenancy of Anton’s Bistro twelve years ago and she was sure she’d never had occasion to tell them about her history with the tall man on the other side of the table, so she added for Mia’s benefit, ‘You know Sheenagh who sometimes came here with Gran? She’s Leo’s mum. ’
Leo appeared unworried by Mia’s curiosity. ‘Jade and I were in the same school year, so we used to see a lot of each other.’
Jade hid her expression by sipping from her wine glass. ‘See a lot of each other’ sounded like a blatant double entendre relating to their early twenties, working hard, playing hard – and for her, at least, falling hard, for Leo Sartori.
Mia beamed. ‘We sometimes eat at Villa Panorama when we get a night away from our own restaurant. Are you the son who’s been living away? Have you come back to help your family in the hotel?’
‘I think they’re doing OK without me,’ Leo replied easily.
When he lifted his fork, Mia perhaps realised that her guests would like to be left to the quiet enjoyment of their dinner and called another bright, ‘Buon appetito,’ before threading back between the busy tables and into the interior of the restaurant.
Jade nibbled her first slice of pizza without her usual pleasure in the deliciously rich tomato and tangy basil. Her appetite didn’t seem to have come to the bistro with her. Maybe it was the waft of garlic from the next table or her headache. She paused to sip her wine.
Evidently, Leo placed his own interpretation on her lack of appetite. ‘It was insensitive of me to crow over not having business partners when you’ve just found out about your sisters.’
Shrugging, she put down her wine and picked up her water glass.
He ate another mouthful. ‘But you don’t know that your sisters are going to be a negative in your life—’
‘Don’t.’ With an effort, she summoned a smile to balance out the bite in her voice.
‘Vittoria’s given me several ray-of-sunshine speeches about family support and love.
I understand the theory. But I’m scared, OK?
I’ve not only lost Gran, but some of my trust in her.
I’m trying not to re-evaluate our entire life together, but after we lost Nonno she was the only person always on my side .
. . except, apparently, her loyalties were divided.
’ Words tumbled from her lips in a landslide of disappointment.
‘I remember her dropping hints about having to be fair. But I’m the one she cared for from day one, as I cared for her as she grew older.
I’m the one who worked with her, putting everything into the pensione just as she did.
I feel as if she could have – should have – acknowledged that by making sure I ended up with the business. ’
He toyed with his pasta, which glistened in its creamy sauce. ‘Italian succession law—’
‘I know.’ That was the problem she’d wrestled with since the day Mary Smith had handed her Mairead’s letter.
‘She couldn’t have gifted the pensione to me while she was alive because the others could still have claimed.
She knew about Erin and Rosalie so she couldn’t pretend she didn’t.
I know. But being kept in the dark was a shock.
I’ve gained half-siblings, but all I can see is their potential to take Three Sisters from me or make it something I no longer want.
The situation’s like wrestling with a jellyfish – impossible to get a grip on.
And Erin didn’t check if it was OK to come.
She just booked.’ Sucking in a deep breath, she blinked back hot tears.
‘Sorry,’ she added quietly. ‘Now I’m getting petty. ’
Leo’s eyes grew soft with sympathy, reflecting the light from the table lamp. ‘I know how it feels to have your life ripped up and not know how to glue it together.’
For a while they ate in silence, listening to the deep, melodious ker-dang, ker-dang of the cathedral bells until Jade had given up on her meal and Leo had chased down the last piece of ravioli on his plate.
The Hotel Metropole Suisse on the corner cast shade diagonally across Piazza Cavour to douse the slice of sunlight that had been bathing their table and the intense heat went out of the day.
Conversation having flagged so early, Jade wasn’t surprised when neither of them chose dessert. Leo signalled for the bill, then said, ‘Let’s walk along the lakeside. The breeze might untidy your hair.’
Jade found herself smiling. He knew she’d always liked walking with her hair writhing like the gorgon’s snakes. It was a friendly, cheerful memory among all the turbulent, hurt recollections she had of them together. ‘Sounds good.’
They set off across Piazza Cavour, carefully apart as they navigated busy Lungo Lario Trieste at a crossing to the broad, paved promenade, alive with people strolling or jogging by the lakeside.
The sun was sinking between two rugged ridges, creating apricot haloes in the sky over these foothills of the Bergamo Alps and reflecting on every ripple of the lake.
A lone ferry arrived at the breakwater with a toot of its horn and three leisure boats burbled slowly into the arms of the marina, making their moored counterparts bob.
Swallows swooped over the water, snatching insects from the air.
The breeze was lazy, but Jade still unclipped her hair to let it stream as if her worries would stream away too.
‘Pwwh.’ Leo pretended to splutter and shove the locks out of his face.
‘Your suggestion,’ she reminded him, feeling the tiniest lift to her spirits at his clowning. She pulled her hair over the shoulder furthest from him and ensured they walked a step apart.