He smiles. “I promise this will be the last time.”
“I’m kidding,” I tell him. “What’s up?”
“I have an invitation for you.”
“An invitation?” I ask.
He frowns, probably wondering why I’ve made such a simple word sound so cold.
“To what?”
“I don’t know.” He hands me a small envelope. “Don’t shoo?—”
“Shoot the messenger, I know. Sorry, Naaif.”
I open the envelope. It’s an invitation to a wine tasting, signed with Dario’s name. I leave my lunch where it is and exit therestaurant. I’m getting a headache, a tight band of tension squeezing my skull.
I find Marcela lounging on the beach, in a pale white dress, reading a novel underneath an umbrella.
“Excuse me, Marcela,” I say. “Have you seen Dario?”
A wicked smile touches her lips. “You seem very keen to find him.”
“He’s arranged a wine tasting, but it wasn’t on the schedule.”
She nods to the lounge chair next to hers. “Vittorio has disappeared to the spa. Would you sit with me for a moment?”
I don’t want to sit with her. I want to rant and rave at her son. But it’s not like I can say no.
“Sure.”
“How are you feeling?” she asks.
“You know—” Stressed. Suspicious. Conflicted. “Fine.”
“Take a breath. Look at the sea, the beauty, and appreciate where you are. I feel like you’ve been running around nonstop, not giving yourself time to enjoy it.”
“With all due respect, it’s not my job to enjoy it. My job is to make sureyouenjoy it.”
“What if I said that, for me to enjoy it, I needyouto enjoy it?” She laughs. “See, Siena, I’m not just a pretty face.”
I roll my eyes.
“Was that an eye roll, young lady?”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I didn’t mea?—”
“You should try to relax around me. Am I really that intimidating?”
“No,” I admit. “But I don’t want to get too comfortable around my boss.”
“I’m not your boss. I’m your client–well, your client’s wife, since he made all the arrangements. And let’s not forget the fact that you saved me. Now, look at the horizon, appreciate it.”
I gaze across the glittering blue waves.
“Breathe, Siena.”
I take a slow breath, then let it out just as slowly.