Lake Como (22 page)

“She gave me the second one for free,” Angus said proudly, handing Hallie two scarves wrapped in tissue paper. “And she gave me something else.”

Angus pressed a warm lump in Hallie’s arms. Hallie felt something wet burrow into her elbow. She jumped and discovered a puppy with damp fur, a round body, and a tiny tail beating rapidly against her chest.

“Angus!” Hallie exclaimed. “Are you crazy?”

“She insisted I take him.” Angus laughed as the puppy licked Hallie’s chin. “I was afraid she might drown him. He really likes you.”

“I can’t have a puppy!” Hallie protested. “Sophia keeps the villa as pristine as a furniture showroom.”

“I’ll keep him in my rooms.” Angus stroked the puppy’s head. “You can play with him in the gardens after work.”

“But I don’t know my plans.” Hallie let the puppy burrow into her shoulder. She remembered standing in the pet store, hugging Miles, whose paws were as big as her hands. She recalled the way he slept snuggled against her feet, his breathing the last thing she heard before she fell asleep. She remembered playing with him in Constance’s garden, chasing tennis balls and running races across the lawn.

“There’s no hurry, my rooms are as big as most houses.” Angus let the puppy lick his hand. “What will you name him?”

“Milo,” Hallie said quickly, the name arriving fully formed on her lips.

“Come on, Milo.” Angus led them toward the boat dock. “Let’s see if we can find a tennis ball.”

It started to sprinkle as they reached the edge of the village. Angus grabbed Hallie’s hand and they ran, but the drops became heavy steel-colored sheets. They took shelter under a fig tree and Angus took off his sweater and held it over them.

At first when Angus touched her hair she thought it was the rain. She moved closer to the tree trunk, and he rubbed his hands over her shoulders. He put his arms around her, then he tipped her face up to his and kissed her deeply on the lips.

Hallie stood in Angus’s embrace, tasting plums and strawberries. She heard the bleat of the ferry and the sound of raindrops falling on leaves. She smelled Milo’s wet fur, and kept her mouth pressed against Angus’s.

When he finally let her go, her lips engorged and her clothes damp and sticky, the rain had turned to a drizzle. They walked quickly to the boat dock and crossed the lake to Bellagio. Hallie pressed Milo into Angus’s lap and jumped out of the boat. She ran up the steps to the villa, her heart beating wildly.

chapter seventeen

“I’m too old to be a dancer,” Portia groaned. “My body feels like it’s been strung up on a torture rack.”

Hallie turned and glanced at Portia. “You look like you’re fifteen.” They lay on lounges beside the pool, their bodies coated with Acqua di Parma sunscreen.

The rain of the previous weekend had given way to a week of brilliant sunshine. Hallie had worn shorts and tank tops to work all week, staying after work to play with Milo on the lawn. They played hide-and-seek between the statues, and chased a balled-up sock through the rose gardens. Milo seemed to grow every day. His stomach was thicker, his paws bigger, his fur was smooth and shiny.

“I love teaching,” Portia admitted, turning over on her stomach. “But my jetés travel half as far as they used to, and my arabesque looks like a stork.”

“I doubt that.” Hallie laughed. “I’m exhausted from chasing after Milo. I forgot how much work having a puppy is.”

“It looks like it agrees with you.” Portia studied Hallie. “Or maybe it’s Angus, but you’re definitely glowing.”

“Nothing is going on with me and Angus,” Hallie replied, realizing that was not quite true. There was a change in their relationship since their kiss, an electricity that Hallie could not ignore.

*   *   *

Monday morning had dawned bright and sunny. The view from the ferry was breathtaking, as if someone had taken a brush and wiped away every imperfection. The lake was emerald green and the flowers on the promenade were vibrant shades of purple and yellow. As the ferry approached the Villa Luce, Hallie felt an uneasy anticipation, as if she was starving, but didn’t know what she was hungry for.

Hallie didn’t see Angus until lunchtime. She made her own salad and took it out on the balcony, sitting alone at the wrought-iron table. She watched Angus cross the lawn. He wore navy shorts, a white T-shirt, and his thick hair fell smoothly over his forehead. He gripped an old sock in one hand, and Milo firmly in the other.

“He kept me up all night,” Angus said grinning, putting the puppy on the tile floor. “And he ate scrambled eggs for breakfast.”

“Sounds like a healthy diet.” Hallie laughed, avoiding Angus’s eyes. Suddenly she could feel his hands on her shoulders, his mouth pressed against hers.

“I’m going to the village to buy dog food.” Angus leaned against the railing. “I reread
Tom Sawyer
over the weekend.”

“I haven’t read it since high school,” Hallie mused, pushing a baby tomato around her plate.

“I was wrong about Tom and Becky.” Angus hesitated. “They weren’t just friends; he kissed her outside the school house.”

“Oh.” Hallie speared an asparagus tip with her fork.

“After they kissed, she was angry with him, and he spent half the book getting back in her good graces.” Angus sat at the table opposite Hallie.

“Why would I be angry?” Hallie put her fork down. “It was raining, we were excited about Milo.”

“I don’t want to just kiss you on a boat or under an olive tree,” Angus said. “I’d like to get to know you, go out to dinner, stroll along the promenade.”

Hallie felt her stomach tighten, as if someone pulled a string on a corset. She pictured Peter grabbing his backpack and storming out of the hotel room. She remembered feeling like someone had placed a brick on her chest.

“I liked the kiss,” Hallie admitted. “But I’m not ready for dinner and dating.”

“Dinner’s like lunch but with better silverware.” Angus smiled. “We can go to a trattoria in Lenno, skipping the silverware and eating pizza with our hands.”

“I’ll stick with lunch for now,” Hallie replied, offering Milo a piece of ham. “We better feed Milo, he’s starving.”

“I once spent three weeks sifting through rubble to find a Greek artifact.” Angus scooped up Milo. “I’m very patient.”

*   *   *

“You’re allowed to date.” Portia poured sunscreen into her hand. “It’s good for the skin.”

“I like Angus,” Hallie mused. “But I’m still getting used to being Hallie Tesoro. Pliny hasn’t even told Sophia about me.”

“You can’t blame him.” Portia sighed. “Sophia makes the sign of the cross every time I walk by. The funny thing is she used to dote on Alfonso when Marcus brought him home from university. He always complimented her on her brunches.”

Hallie raised her eyebrows. “It sounds like things are getting serious.”

“He’s taking me to Il Gatto Nero tomorrow night. It’s nearly impossible to get a reservation,” Portia replied. “Alfonso bribed the maître d’ with yards of his most expensive silk. You and Angus should join us!”

“Tag along to a romantic dinner?” Hallie frowned.

“Sisters are supposed to double date,” Portia replied, her eyes sparkling. “I can ask Angus questions about Max. I love a good mystery.”

“I don’t want to sit across a table and talk about what books Angus likes to read,” Hallie explained. “I knew Peter so well for so long, I don’t want to know someone new.”

“Then skip dinner and go straight to the sex.” Portia grinned. “Angus has gorgeous legs.”

“I don’t want a man,” Hallie insisted. “I want to finish the Villa Luce, I want to spend time with Pliny and get to know Lake Como.”

“If you really want to be Italian, that means embracing
la dolce vita.
” Portia flipped on her stomach. “Eating, drinking, and making love.”

“The two most beautiful women in Lake Como,” a male voice said behind them. “Posing like models for Michelangelo.”

Portia leaped up and kissed Alfonso on the cheek. He wore beige linen slacks and a silk shirt open to the third button. He carried a slim box in one hand and a bunch of lilacs in the other.

“Are you spying on me?” Portia demanded playfully. “I thought you were in Milan till tomorrow.”

“I wrapped business up early.” Alfonso settled on the chaise lounge. “I brought you a gift for tomorrow night.”

“I don’t need presents,” Portia said, scowling.

“Riccardo bought you gifts because he was a scoundrel.” Alfonso handed the box to Portia. “I bring you presents to show off your beauty. You are Aphrodite and Venus rolled into one.”

“He’s impossible to resist.” Portia giggled to Hallie. She tore off the tissue paper and discovered a dove-colored silk dress with a heart-shaped bodice.

“It’s Armani,” Alfonso said. “Straight off the runway. I practically plucked it off the model.”

“I hope she was wearing something underneath.” Portia held the dress in front of her.

“It’s gorgeous.” Hallie nodded. “You look like a china doll.”

“Alfonso does have excellent taste.” Portia rewarded him with a kiss on the lips. “Convince Hallie she and Angus should join us; I want to show off the new dress.”

“Hallie has a new beau?” Alfonso beamed. “Then we will make it a party of four.”

“Angus and I are friends,” Hallie protested, shooting Portia a look.

“A sexy male friend who gave her a puppy,” Portia interjected.

“Angus was afraid Milo would be drowned,” Hallie insisted.

“Has he asked you on a date?” Portia asked.

“He wanted to take me to dinner,” Hallie admitted. “I said I’m not ready.”

“What is this term ‘not ready’?” Alfonso frowned. “Americans stay children too long. They spend their whole lives playing in the sandbox.”

“It means I just broke up with Peter,” Hallie retorted. “I don’t want to throw myself in a new relationship.”

“We need love like we need to breathe.” Angus shrugged. “What are you waiting for? For the wrinkles to start, for your hair to turn gray?”

Hallie glanced from Alfonso to Portia. They both looked young and sleek and sophisticated. Alfonso’s eyes were sharp as pebbles and his fingers tapped restlessly on the chair. Portia was like a cat preening in the sun, lapping up Alfonso’s praise.

Suddenly Hallie couldn’t think of a reason to say no to Angus. Peter, the apartment on Russian Hill, Kendra’s design store were all part of another life. If she was going to live in Lake Como, she had to move forward.

Hallie hesitated. “I don’t know if Angus could afford it.”

“It will be my treat,” Alfonso insisted, winking at Portia. “We will teach the Americans how to dine.”

*   *   *

Hallie had spent the last hour in her closet, debating what to wear to dinner. She finally chose a pleated skirt and matching angora sweater. Glancing in the mirror, she thought she was dressed for a Junior League fashion show. But she didn’t want to flash her breasts or expose her legs. She wanted to take things slowly. She wished she could skip dinner altogether and eat pizza with Pliny.

Lea knocked on her door and announced the arrival of a visitor. Hallie ran the brush through her hair and rubbed lip gloss on her lips. She grabbed her purse and ran down the stairs to the foyer.

Angus stood under the crystal chandelier, his feet shifting nervously. He wore beige slacks and a blazer that didn’t reach his wrists. He smiled when he saw Hallie, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“I’m a little rusty at dating,” he admitted. “I couldn’t decide whether to bring you flowers or perfume. Milo chewed up the roses, now he has a terrible stomachache.”

“I don’t need anything,” Hallie murmured.

“No you don’t.” Angus’s eyes traveled over Hallie’s body. “You’re perfect.”

“I was afraid you’d think I’m forward … asking you to dinner.”

“Nothing has made me happier since we caught the Lavarello,” Angus replied. “We’ll learn some new recipes and I can try them on you later.”

“Portia said the food is amazing,” Hallie mumbled. She pictured a candlelit table, Alfonso and Portia holding hands, Hallie sitting awkwardly across from Angus. She grabbed the staircase railing and was about to run upstairs, but Angus placed his wide hand on her arm.

“It’s only dinner,” Angus said quietly. “I won’t even make you eat your vegetables.”

Hallie glanced at Angus’s hazel eyes and relaxed. They had fished together and been stuck in a rainstorm. A delicious dinner, accompanied by Alfonso and Portia’s bright chatter, couldn’t be so hard.

*   *   *

They drove in Alfonso’s black Peugeot. Angus’s long legs were jammed into his chest. Hallie pressed her body against the window, watching the lake change colors. The sun dipped behind the mountains, turning the sky into a kaleidoscope.

The restaurant was in the hills, high above Cernobbio. The maître d’ led them outside to the balcony and Hallie gasped at the view. Como was lit up like Main Street in Disneyland, and Bellagio shone like a precious jewel. The villages of Varenna and Menaggio shimmered like fireflies swarming around a flame.

“The most magnificent view in Lake Como.” Alfonso opened his arms expansively. “The wine selection is unrivaled and the fish is fresh every day.”

Hallie listened to Alfonso and Portia chat about the jazz festival in Tremezzo and a new restaurant in Como. Alfonso ate heartily: antipasto, garlic bread, oysters on the half shell. Portia sipped her wine, giggling and flirting. The tense, watchful expression she wore when she was with Riccardo was absent, replaced by an easy smile.

Hallie tried to remember what she and Peter talked about at dinner: the magazine, her clients, a new exhibit at the Asian Art Museum. She glanced at Angus but he seemed content sipping his wine. Every now and then he offered his opinion on art or local cuisine, sending Hallie a small smile across the table.

“I envy the British their great mystery writers.” Portia ate a slice of melon wrapped in prosciutto. “Hallie and I used to read her Agatha Christie novels aloud every night.”

“We both had terrible nightmares.” Hallie smiled.

“To think we have a mystery in our midst,” Portia said mischievously. “Alfonso insists he’s never met Max Rodale, but he’s provided silk for the whole villa.”