set for the dinner—all the guests phoned their acceptance, including
Gina. He lifted a brow to Connie. “Mother is fighting to the last.”
“We
will make sure it is her last, not yours,” Connie quipped.
An
idea occurred to him. “I would like my friend Valentino Chiari to design
a gown for you for that dinner—but there isn’t time. Still, I’ll get him
on the phone—maybe if you tell him your preferred style, colors, size, he could
bring some of his RTW?”
“What
is RTW, Alessandro?”
“Ready
to wear.” He grinned. “Sounds a bit better than ‘off the
rack.’ I’ll send my plane for him.” A smile touched his lips.
“Later, we’ll go spend some time in Milan, and then Valentino will have time to
design some things for you exclusively.”
The
one gown has miraculously blossomed into ‘some things,’ Connie
thought. She glanced up at Alessandro. “I’ll buy whatever clothes
you think I’ll need to be properly attired as your PA in any
circumstances. All right?”
“Did
you say ‘I’ll buy’?”
Connie
nodded. “You pay me a huge salary—and all the time we’ve been here I
haven’t done a thing to earn it. At least let me pay for any clothes you
think I’ll need.”
Calmly,
Alessandro said, “The reason you have to have these extra clothes is because my
life in Italy requires it. Once we’re back in Ocean Breeze, you’d have no
further use for them. It’s only fair that I should pay for them.
Will you be generous and do it my way?”
“Actually,
those clothes would get quite a work-out at Tom’s dinners.” She
smiled. “Either of us can afford whatever Valentino Chiari charges—you
could afford it more easily than I, of course—but…” She gazed into the
cornflower blue of his eyes, shaded by the long sweep of his curling black
lashes. “If you wish it, fine. Thank you.”
Have
I won? She gave in so graciously. “Thank you, Connie.”
****
Valentino
Chiari breezed in, bringing several dinner and evening gowns for Connie to try,
and Alessandro quietly bought them all. Tino was glad of the promise that
his friend and his woman—as he thought of Connie—would spend some time in
Milan, and that he could then design an entire wardrobe for her.
In
a private moment with Alessandro, he said, “I’ve always known that when it came
to being serious about a woman, you would find someone exceptional—and that is
exactly what you’ve done with Connie.”
“She’s
my PA, Tino,” Alessandro protested.
“All
the better. Later in life, when passions do not flame so high any more,
you will be able to have intelligent conversations with her.”
Connie
came in and, to Alessandro’s relief, it was impossible to return to this
subject, although it seemed Tino was keen to pursue it.
****
Later,
when Valentino had been flown back to Milan, Alessandro thought about what Tino
had said. Ridiculous. I like my life as it is—I’m not in the
market for a wife, and after what Connie went through with Bob-the-snob, she
isn’t likely to want another stab at marriage. She told me so, at that
initial interview. No, Tino was his usual outrageous self. And yet—
****
On
the day of the family dinner at Alessandro’s palazzo , he suggested to
Connie that they both have a rest in the afternoon. The evening might be
choppy, and while Alessandro felt certain he could control the more unruly
elements—and that included his mother—he intended being alert to any implied
insult or offensive remark addressed to Connie. And his mother and Marisa
would try, of that he was certain. He smiled somewhat grimly. Let
them try, and wonder what fell on them.
Maybe
he could do Uncle Roberto a favour and exile Marisa to her native
Brindisi—about as far from Florence as you could get. There, she could
watch the Greek tour boats come
Gina. He lifted a brow to Connie. “Mother is fighting to the last.”
“We
will make sure it is her last, not yours,” Connie quipped.
An
idea occurred to him. “I would like my friend Valentino Chiari to design
a gown for you for that dinner—but there isn’t time. Still, I’ll get him
on the phone—maybe if you tell him your preferred style, colors, size, he could
bring some of his RTW?”
“What
is RTW, Alessandro?”
“Ready
to wear.” He grinned. “Sounds a bit better than ‘off the
rack.’ I’ll send my plane for him.” A smile touched his lips.
“Later, we’ll go spend some time in Milan, and then Valentino will have time to
design some things for you exclusively.”
The
one gown has miraculously blossomed into ‘some things,’ Connie
thought. She glanced up at Alessandro. “I’ll buy whatever clothes
you think I’ll need to be properly attired as your PA in any
circumstances. All right?”
“Did
you say ‘I’ll buy’?”
Connie
nodded. “You pay me a huge salary—and all the time we’ve been here I
haven’t done a thing to earn it. At least let me pay for any clothes you
think I’ll need.”
Calmly,
Alessandro said, “The reason you have to have these extra clothes is because my
life in Italy requires it. Once we’re back in Ocean Breeze, you’d have no
further use for them. It’s only fair that I should pay for them.
Will you be generous and do it my way?”
“Actually,
those clothes would get quite a work-out at Tom’s dinners.” She
smiled. “Either of us can afford whatever Valentino Chiari charges—you
could afford it more easily than I, of course—but…” She gazed into the
cornflower blue of his eyes, shaded by the long sweep of his curling black
lashes. “If you wish it, fine. Thank you.”
Have
I won? She gave in so graciously. “Thank you, Connie.”
****
Valentino
Chiari breezed in, bringing several dinner and evening gowns for Connie to try,
and Alessandro quietly bought them all. Tino was glad of the promise that
his friend and his woman—as he thought of Connie—would spend some time in
Milan, and that he could then design an entire wardrobe for her.
In
a private moment with Alessandro, he said, “I’ve always known that when it came
to being serious about a woman, you would find someone exceptional—and that is
exactly what you’ve done with Connie.”
“She’s
my PA, Tino,” Alessandro protested.
“All
the better. Later in life, when passions do not flame so high any more,
you will be able to have intelligent conversations with her.”
Connie
came in and, to Alessandro’s relief, it was impossible to return to this
subject, although it seemed Tino was keen to pursue it.
****
Later,
when Valentino had been flown back to Milan, Alessandro thought about what Tino
had said. Ridiculous. I like my life as it is—I’m not in the
market for a wife, and after what Connie went through with Bob-the-snob, she
isn’t likely to want another stab at marriage. She told me so, at that
initial interview. No, Tino was his usual outrageous self. And yet—
****
On
the day of the family dinner at Alessandro’s palazzo , he suggested to
Connie that they both have a rest in the afternoon. The evening might be
choppy, and while Alessandro felt certain he could control the more unruly
elements—and that included his mother—he intended being alert to any implied
insult or offensive remark addressed to Connie. And his mother and Marisa
would try, of that he was certain. He smiled somewhat grimly. Let
them try, and wonder what fell on them.
Maybe
he could do Uncle Roberto a favour and exile Marisa to her native
Brindisi—about as far from Florence as you could get. There, she could
watch the Greek tour boats come
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