Champagne Deception (11 page)

This morning, their lovemaking was sweeter, more leisurely, but just as ardent as the night before.  Lorenzo’s lips were already familiar and molded so perfectly to her own like a sensual sculpture.  Boldly, she sat astride him and presented her nudity as an erotic offering, not attempting to keep any part of herself secret.  She created the rhythm and drew him into it hypnotically as he sat up against the pillows to slip more deeply inside her.  They rocked back and forth against the backdrop of the mist
y rain, breathing harshly and exploring every plane of each other’s body.

With a clap
of thunder and slash of lightning, Coretta took her pleasure from Lorenzo’s potent body, clinging to him as he kissed her throat and held her tighter.  She urged him to join her as she moved more insistently even after she had found release, desperate to feel his ultimate satisfaction.  Eagerly, he let go and lay back against the pillows with his hands on her hips as she rode him to an explosive release.

She tumbled against his chest as he wrapped her in his arms and kissed her lips before heaving a giant sigh of relief.  Cozily, she lay in his embrace, pressing her cheek against his and absently caressing his chest hair.  As she drifted back to sleep, she
vaguely remembered that he had something to talk to her about.  Something that she probably would not want to hear.

Perceiving that she was falling asleep again, he sat up straighter in the bed.  She pulled a few inches away, looking into a pair of eyes that were full of consternation.  He seemed too spent to talk, but slowly he found the words.

“Coretta, I have to talk to you about that phone call,” he said firmly.

“Is something wrong?  I couldn’t understand the whole conversation.”

“It’s not that something is wrong.  It’s just that I have to take a little trip,” he said awkwardly.

“You mean an overnight trip like when you went to Umbria to deliver some sculptures?” She asked hopefully.

“I wish it were that short of a trip.  But I’ll be gone for two weeks,” he said glumly.

Coretta shot up in bed, separating from Lorenzo
and pulling the sheets around her.  Two weeks?!  What was he talking about?  How could he go away for two weeks when she had barely been in Italy for two
days
?

“Please don’t be upset.  Your trip happened in such a whirlwind that I forgot how I was committed to teach a two week visual arts seminar in Napoli.  It’s something I signed up for months ago, and I can’t get out of it now.”

Coretta willed herself not to fall apart at the seams.  Being without Lorenzo for two weeks was bad enough, but with all the creepy occurrences of late, his absence would be downright unbearable.

Invading her thoughts, he said, “You will be fine on your own here.  And we’ll talk on the phone every day that I’m in Napoli,” he promised.

“But what about our gallery?  Last night, you signed all the paperwork!”

“Yes, and we’re still going to go ahead with that!  You can hire a university student to be your intern and do all the intensive labor of setting up.  Assisting a gallery owner is an art student’s dream.”

“I know.  I used to be an art student myself,” she said darkly, resisting the impulse to punch a pillow.  “When are you leaving anyway?”

He looked downward with a guilty expression. 
“This morning.”

“This morning?!” She echoed loudly.

Outside, the rain shower became torrential, beating against the windowpanes angrily to mirror Coretta’s mood.  He tried to pull her back into his arms, but she slipped away.  It seemed very convenient that he remembered this professional commitment
after
making love to her twice.

“
I was supposed to be there yesterday morning.  That’s what the phone call was all about.  The program director was furious that I missed the first day.  Coretta, I can see you are mad at me too.  And I understand.  But please believe that I totally forgot about this stupid seminar!” He raised his voice before lowering it a few intimate decibels.  “And believe me when I tell you how much I’ll miss you…wait, why don’t you come with me?  There’s no reason for you to stay here!  Besides, I don’t even know what I’m thinking.  You can’t stay here all alone with an attempted murderer still on the loose!”

She brightened for an instant before realizing how preposterous his idea was.  “There is a
very
good reason for me to stay here, and that’s the gallery!  If we want to open it by next month as planned, then I’ll be very busy while you’re gone.  And as for my safety, I’ll be fine.  I lived alone in Manhattan for many years.  There are scary people there too.”

“But none of the people in Manhattan were directly threatening your life!  I’m going to have my family look in on you every day.  And don’t argue with me.”

Coretta softened her features, touched by his concern for her safety.  And she didn’t argue.  In truth, as much as she dreaded being apart from Lorenzo, she knew it was too soon for them to spend such a concentrated amount of time together.  Their relationship had progressed like wildfire, and she didn’t want it to turn into quicksand.  Perhaps a couple of weeks apart would allow them both to clear their heads---and determine if this passion were just a fluke or the real thing.

Lorenzo grabbed her hand and placed it on his heart.  “I meant it when I said I’ll miss you.  I’ll be dreaming about you every night.”

“I’ll miss you too,” she replied honestly.

One more kiss and Lorenzo dragged himself out of bed and into the washroom.  He emerged a few minutes later, freshly shaven and
dressed in business casual wear.  Coretta lay back on the mattress, admiring her new lover.

“I have a job for you while I’m away,” he said mischievously.

“And what would that be?  Deflower your kitchen?” She quipped.

“No! What good would it be for you to cook if I’m not here to enjoy it?” He chuckled, opening a dresser drawer and starting to pack.  “I want you to come up with a name for our gallery.  Something clever that reflects our partnership.”

“I can do that,” she smiled, pleased that he was so freely handing over creative control.  “And I’ll do a lot more than that, you’ll see,” she promised with a little mischief of her own.  Supervising a craft store in Manhattan had often included stocking shelves and other heavy labor.  She didn’t need some college kid to help her set up the gallery.  She would do it all on her own.  “Just make sure you give me your cell phone number before you leave.”

“I didn’t give you my phone number?” He asked in disbelief as she shook her head.  “Well, I guess that’
s because all our communication has been face to face.  Technology would only get in our way.”

He zipped up his duffel bag and walked back to the bed, sitting down on the edge. 
He took her face in his hands and kissed her one last time. Not wanting to prolong the goodbye, Lorenzo quickly got up and scurried to the doorway.

“Be careful on your motor scooter in the rain!  I’m going to be worried about you.”

“No need to worry.  I’ll leave my phone number on the coffee table downstairs, and I’ll also call you when I arrive in Napoli.  I’ll be back in two weeks. 
Ciao, Coretta
.”

“
Ciao, Lorenzo
,” she said wistfully.

The moment his Vespa engine revved up and sped away into the stormy morning, she felt lonely.  The villa assumed a grave silence except for the persistent raindrops against the glass.  She pressed her nose to the bed sheets to inhale Lorenzo’s spicy scent.  After allowing herself a few more moments to indulge in melancholy, she got up and began her day.

*****

By the end of the week, Coretta hardly noticed Lorenzo’s absence.  He had called her every day, as promised, setting her at ease about the direction of their relationship, not to mention his integrity. 
After their daily phone conversations at the crack of dawn, Coretta had been too busy to think of anything but the gallery.  Each day, she had thrown herself into the business of setting up the gallery starting with a long overdue phone call to her family in Connecticut.  Initially, her mother had been shocked when Coretta announced she was in Italy.  She chided her for leaving the country without notifying any family members.  What if an emergency arose?  Indeed, a series of emergencies had arisen, but Coretta didn’t mention any of the incidents to her already worried mother.  The one announcement that had pleased Mrs. Nicholas was Coretta’s break-up with Jonathan.

“Finally!” She had screamed exultantly as Coretta smiled wanly.

Yes, she should have broken up with him years ago.  Yes, he was a total cad.  But none of that mattered now because Coretta was free.  Mrs. Nicholas was only too happy to send her husband and son on an errand into Manhattan to pack up Coretta’s apartment.  If her daughter was happy, she was happy.  Even if her daughter’s happiness meant living an ocean away, Mariana Nicholas would be fully supportive.

Instead of putting Coretta’s paintings from her Greenwich Village apartment into storage, Mr. Nicholas had shipped them directly to the gallery that Lorenzo had purchased.  She still hadn’t come up with a good name for the gallery, but she was working on it. 
Too many other details needed tending at the moment, fun details like designing flyers and a menu for the opening night reception.

On Saturday afternoon, Coretta was sitting on the sofa jotting down menu items and searching the phone book for caterers when the doorbell rang.  She was immediately startled as no one had come to the house since Lorenzo left for Napoli on Tuesday morning.  And the threatening events had stopped as well.  Or had they just taken a hiatus?  Cautiously, Coretta crept over to the door and looked out the peephole.  She gasped to behold the spitting image of Lorenzo outside the door.  But not Lorenzo as he was today in his early thirties.  No, this man looked exactly as Lorenzo had in college!  Wondering if she was hallucinating, Coretta took a step back from the door and rubbed her eyes.  Again, she peered through the peephole and saw the same young, green eyed man standing at the door.  He pressed the doorbell button again as she warily turned the knob.

Opening the door just a crack, she looked directly into “Lorenzo’s” eyes.  The imposter smiled the same dimpled smile as Coretta gripped the doorframe in an effort to steady herself.

“
Buon giorno, Coretta!  Io sono Franco, il fratello di Lorenzo
!”

She silently processed his words.  He had introduced himself as Lorenzo’s brother, Franco.  The resemblance seemed too strong for them to be mere brothers, but they couldn’t be twins because Franco was clearly much younger.

“You look exactly like Lorenzo!” She exclaimed, unable to contain her surprise.

“Hey
, don’t say that,” he replied in subtly accented English.  “He’s nine years older than me!”

They shared a laugh as
Signora Fiatti emerged from behind her son. 
The woman is always coming out of nowhere
, Coretta thought.  She was so short in the shadow of her long, lanky sons that she could easily hide behind them.  Coretta forced a smile, which Signora Fiatti did not return.

“Aren’t you going to invite us into my son’s house?!” She demanded in Italian.

“Yes, of course, please come in!” Coretta opened the door wide.  “I was just a bit startled by how similar Franco and Lorenzo look.”

“My handsome boys,” Big Mamma muttered.

Franco blushed and explained, “Lorenzo wanted us to look in on you while he’s doing the seminars, so here we are.”

“Yes, and that’s very nice of you.  Would you like some wine?”

“Of course!” Franco said heartily.  “
Vino rosso, per piacere
.”

“Red wine coming right up,” Coretta replied.

As she sauntered over to the bar to pour three glasses, Signora Fiatti spoke to her son in a hushed voice.  Coretta knew the woman was talking about her even though the words were too muffled to discern.  Although it was rude, Coretta took a long swill of wine before serving the guests.  She needed strength to deal with this bothersome woman who seemed to be a bigger obstacle than the unknown stalker.

The trio drank the wine in an awkward silence.  When Coretta offered snacks, Signora Fiatti refused, saying that they had to be on their way.  Clearly,
the visit was not a friendly one but simply intended to fulfill Lorenzo’s request.  She felt liberated a minute later when her lover’s relatives stood on the other side of the front door and she could return to her gallery preparations.

As soon as she sat do
wn on the sofa with her to-do list, the doorbell chimed again.  Irritated, Coretta ran to the door and opened it without looking through the peephole.  She recoiled in fear to see that no one was there.  Heart thudding, she scanned the front property but didn’t see a soul.  Looking down, she spotted a small brown paper bag.  She picked up the package and held it away from her body as though it would explode in her hands.  Daring to open the paper bag, she looked inside and frowned at the contents.  The bag was filled to the brim with wooden chips painted black.  She grasped one between her fingers and winced as a splinter poked through her flesh.