Luciana is doing her laps in the pool. She notices me but doesn’t say anything, instead keeping her head down and focuses on her strokes.
She’s gotten quite good at it.
My memory flashes back to a summer day, much like this one, years ago, when Valentina gave Luciana her first swimming lesson in this very pool.
To my surprise, the memory is less painful. The ache of not having Valentina anymore has been dulled by the fresh, seething pain of losing Quinn.
Two lost loves in a lifetime? I can only curse my own luck.
I’m still lost in my thoughts when Luciana finishes her swim and steps out of the pool, beads of water trailing behind her as she sits down next to me.
“You okay?”
I look up at her and give her my fakest smile. “Of course.”
She crosses her arms in front of her. “I saw the video, Dad. Alessio showed it to me earlier.”
I search for any signs of anger in her eyes, but there are none.
“So, tell me for real this time. How are you doing?”
“I guess I’ve been better.” I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck. “But I’m hanging in there.”
“How is Quinn?” she asks like it is the most natural thing in the world that I would know the answer to that question.
“I don’t know.” My voice chokes up a little.
“Don’t you think it’s a good idea to find out?”
I snap my gaze back to her. “Luciana, you were there when she said she was leaving. I think it’s best if I leave her be and not interfere in her life anymore.”
“Dad, don’t you love her?” Her expression is pleading. “I really thought you were going to do something about it.”
“Sometimes, we don’t get the person we love.” I sigh.
I should know that. I had it happen to me twice.
“Yes, but do we just let them go like that?” Her inquisitive gaze on me feels scorching, and I look away.
“Luciana, you know all that is going on with the vineyard right now. That’s where I need to put my focus on.”
There’s an air of finality in my tone. I don’t use this tone with my children often, but when I do, they know better than to argue further.
“Everything else needs to wait.”
25
QUINN
“I’msorry,MissKingsley,but my hands are tied here. There’s not much we can do for you,” the director of Talent Plus agency informs me.
“I just don’t understand. Isn’t this what you’re supposed to do? Rehabilitate people’s image?” I’m at my wit's end.
She presses her lips together, and I can tell she feels sorry for me. “In your case, it’s going to be exceptionally difficult. The claims made against you are about your character, and it’s almost impossible to counter them, especially as a woman in the industry.”
This is the fourth meeting I’ve had in the last week with a PR agent—all of them having the same result.
“But they’re baseless claims.” I run a hand through my hair. “You know this, right?”