patted her hand. He preferred awkward to ugly. With a pleasant smile on his face, he got to his feet and crossed over to where Pilar sat trying to calm a mildly distressed and obviously confused Francesca.
"Pilar, could I have a word with you? A private word."
A dozen excuses ran through her head. She was, in her mother's absence, hostess. The room was full of guests. Her aunt needed her attention. She should order more coffee.
But they were only that, excuses, and would do nothing but postpone what had to be faced.
"Of course." She murmured soothing words in Italian to her aunt, then turned toward Tony.
"Shall we use the library?" At least, Pilar thought, he wasn't bringing Rene with him. Even as they passed, Rene shot her one look, hard and bright as the stone on her finger.
A victor's look, Pilar thought. How ridiculous. There'd be no contest to win, and nothing to lose.
"I'm sorry Mama chose to make this announcement, and have this discussion, with so many people in attendance," Pilar began. "If she'd told me beforehand, I'd have urged her to talk to you privately."
"Doesn't matter. Her personal feelings for me are very clear." As his feathers were rarely ruffled, those feelings had rolled off him for years. "Professionally, well, I might have expected better. But we'll smooth it over." Smoothing things over was what he did second best. Ignoring them was his strong point.
He stepped into the room, sat in one of the deep leather chairs. Once he'd thought he would live in this house, or at least maintain a base there. Fortunately, as things had turned out, he preferred the city. There was little to do in Napa but watch the grapes grow.
"Well, Pilar." His smile was easy, charming as always. "How are you?"
"How am I, Tony?" Hysterical laughter wanted to bubble into her throat. She suppressed it. That was one of her strongest points. "Well enough. And you?"
"I'm good. Busy, of course. Tell me, what do you intend to do about La Signora's suggestion you take a more active part in the company?"
"It wasn't a suggestion, and I don't know what I intend to do about it." The idea of it was still buzzing through her head like a swarm of hornets. "I haven't had time to think it through."
"I'm sure you'll be fine." He leaned forward, his face earnest.
That, she thought with a rare flare of bitterness, was part of his skill and his deception. This pretense of caring. This veneer of interest.
"You're a lovely woman, and certainly an asset to the company in any capacity. It'll be good for you to get out and about more, to be occupied. You may even find you have a talent for it. A career might be just what you need."
She had wanted a family. Husband, children. Never a career. "Are we here to talk about my needs, Tony, or yours?"
"They're not exclusive of each other. Not really. Pilar, I think we should look at this new direction Tereza has plotted out as an opportunity for both of us to start fresh."
He took her hand in the easy way he had with women, cupping it protectively and provocatively in his. "Perhaps we needed this push. I realize that the idea of divorce has been difficult for you."
"Do you?"
"Of course." She was going to make it sticky, he thought. What a bore. "The fact is, Pilar, we've led separate lives for a number of years now."
Slowly, deliberately, she pulled her hand from his. "Are you speaking of the lives we've led since you moved to San Francisco, or the lives we led while we continued to maintain the pretense of a marriage?"
Very sticky, he thought. And sighed. "Pilar, our marriage failed. It's hardly constructive to rehash the whys, the blames, the reasons after all this time."
"I don't believe we ever actually hashed them, Tony. But maybe the time's past where doing so would make any difference."
"The fact is by not ending things legally I've been unfair to you. You've been clearly unable to start a new life."
"Which hasn't been a problem for you, has it?" She rose, walked over to stare into
"Pilar, could I have a word with you? A private word."
A dozen excuses ran through her head. She was, in her mother's absence, hostess. The room was full of guests. Her aunt needed her attention. She should order more coffee.
But they were only that, excuses, and would do nothing but postpone what had to be faced.
"Of course." She murmured soothing words in Italian to her aunt, then turned toward Tony.
"Shall we use the library?" At least, Pilar thought, he wasn't bringing Rene with him. Even as they passed, Rene shot her one look, hard and bright as the stone on her finger.
A victor's look, Pilar thought. How ridiculous. There'd be no contest to win, and nothing to lose.
"I'm sorry Mama chose to make this announcement, and have this discussion, with so many people in attendance," Pilar began. "If she'd told me beforehand, I'd have urged her to talk to you privately."
"Doesn't matter. Her personal feelings for me are very clear." As his feathers were rarely ruffled, those feelings had rolled off him for years. "Professionally, well, I might have expected better. But we'll smooth it over." Smoothing things over was what he did second best. Ignoring them was his strong point.
He stepped into the room, sat in one of the deep leather chairs. Once he'd thought he would live in this house, or at least maintain a base there. Fortunately, as things had turned out, he preferred the city. There was little to do in Napa but watch the grapes grow.
"Well, Pilar." His smile was easy, charming as always. "How are you?"
"How am I, Tony?" Hysterical laughter wanted to bubble into her throat. She suppressed it. That was one of her strongest points. "Well enough. And you?"
"I'm good. Busy, of course. Tell me, what do you intend to do about La Signora's suggestion you take a more active part in the company?"
"It wasn't a suggestion, and I don't know what I intend to do about it." The idea of it was still buzzing through her head like a swarm of hornets. "I haven't had time to think it through."
"I'm sure you'll be fine." He leaned forward, his face earnest.
That, she thought with a rare flare of bitterness, was part of his skill and his deception. This pretense of caring. This veneer of interest.
"You're a lovely woman, and certainly an asset to the company in any capacity. It'll be good for you to get out and about more, to be occupied. You may even find you have a talent for it. A career might be just what you need."
She had wanted a family. Husband, children. Never a career. "Are we here to talk about my needs, Tony, or yours?"
"They're not exclusive of each other. Not really. Pilar, I think we should look at this new direction Tereza has plotted out as an opportunity for both of us to start fresh."
He took her hand in the easy way he had with women, cupping it protectively and provocatively in his. "Perhaps we needed this push. I realize that the idea of divorce has been difficult for you."
"Do you?"
"Of course." She was going to make it sticky, he thought. What a bore. "The fact is, Pilar, we've led separate lives for a number of years now."
Slowly, deliberately, she pulled her hand from his. "Are you speaking of the lives we've led since you moved to San Francisco, or the lives we led while we continued to maintain the pretense of a marriage?"
Very sticky, he thought. And sighed. "Pilar, our marriage failed. It's hardly constructive to rehash the whys, the blames, the reasons after all this time."
"I don't believe we ever actually hashed them, Tony. But maybe the time's past where doing so would make any difference."
"The fact is by not ending things legally I've been unfair to you. You've been clearly unable to start a new life."
"Which hasn't been a problem for you, has it?" She rose, walked over to stare into
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