Mirage Beyond Flames (Coriola) (8 page)

“Well… You’ve finally found one good enough to bring and introduce her to me?”

He laughed lightly.

“Something like that.
You’ll meet her. See you tomorrow around lunch, ok? Maybe you could make some chocolate pancakes, you know, your special recipe.”

“I planned to, in any case. We’re expecting you. Kiss you, dear!”

“So do I, Mom. Bye!”

If she almost had a heart-attack when I told her I was in love with her, she’ll surely faint when she’ll hear I’m taking her to meet my mother!
he thought with a profound sigh, while he was putting on his white lab coat, preparing to visit his patients. The progress of his experimental treatment gave him hope, energy and a motivation stronger than ever.

* * *

Linda worked almost all day long, losing the notion of time. That happened whenever she focused very hard on work. Only when the light decrease visibly, she realized the evening sun had retired in its secret sanctuary. She was starving.

She applied a final layer of varnish to
the finished sculpture, then stepped back to admire her creation. It might not have been spectacular, but to her it had a special significance. She decided going to the gallery the next day to hand it to Francesco. Abandoning in the bathroom her clothes full of sawdust, varnish, sweat and other substances, she took a hot shower. Afterwards she pulled on a thin robe, went downstairs and faced the fridge. She ate some left over spaghetti, then took a glass of milk and a box of cookies, sitting in front of the TV, with Pirata keeping her company. Before she could grab the remote, her phone, placed on the coffee table started ringing. It was Gerard.

“Hello!”

“How are you, beautiful? Do you miss me?” he asked and only his deep masculine voice spiced with that sexy French accent, made her shiver pleasantly.

“Honestly? Yes, I do miss you,” she admitted. “E
ven though it’s been just a few hours since we’ve seen each other.”

“It’s been a century.
However, I didn’t call you for this, but to invite you to lunch tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”
she repeated, a trace of disappointment in her voice. “Aren’t you coming tonight… I mean, don’t you wanna go out somewhere tonight?”

“I would really love to, baby, but I
still have a lot of work here, at the clinic – both in the lab and office. I want to put everything together, to prepare the file I intend to give to Jean-Paul. Besides, tonight I have an unexpected guest - a friend from college who’s visiting London. We haven’t seen each other in over ten years.”

“I see,” she replied,
an involuntary sigh escaping her. “Okay then, have fun with your friend and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I can’t wait to see you,”
he whispered huskily, his words seeming to melt on the soft skin of her ear and neck. “Oh, I almost forgot, we’re having lunch at my mom’s.”

“What?
”

Linda jumped as though
the sofa had bitten her ass. “Where, how… What do you mean? Why?”

He laug
hed, overly amused by her reaction.

“Don
’t worry, baby, you’ll like her. She’s a very nice woman. I was ordered to come to lunch tomorrow and I said I’d bring you along.”

“B-b-But… I don’t know if I can make it
. I have to go to Francesco,” she stuttered, alarmed, without even knowing why and where this stupid panic had appeared.

“You
can handle it, I have no doubt. I’ll come and pick you up around twelve. Dress casually, it’s gonna take us some time to get there. My mother lives in the suburbs. Kiss you, my love, dream about me tonight!”

“Kiss you too,
” she replied and put down the phone, while an icy bundle of unknown origins formed in her stomach. Why did he want her to meet his mother? And why the hell was she so panicked by this thought?

Without finding
any answers to these questions, Linda buried herself deeper into the cushions, changing channels without actually seeing anything in front of her eyes. She didn’t even notice that Pirata was tremendously enjoying her milk and cookies.

* * *

After taking a quick shower, Gerard laid on the bed exhausted, relaxing his naked body between the cool sheets. Each of his muscles was aching due to an entire night of love-making, an extremely long but satisfying work-day and two hours in his old friend’s company. Christian was a nice guy, but so talkative that Gerard had whispered a thankful prayer when the guy had finally left, promising they will keep in touch.

His thoughts flew to Linda, who was never far from his mind and soul. He wondered w
hat she was doing, if she yearned for his presence in her bed, if she wanted him as much as he wanted her right in that moment. He fell asleep in the imaginary arms of his lover, not knowing she was doing the same. For tonight, at least in dreams they were together.

Chapter Nine

Linda awoke with an odd hangover sensation and a dull headache. She opened her eyes but immediately closed them again in defensive toward the cheerful sunrays invading her bedroom. She’d forgotten to lower the shutters again. She vaguely asked herself why the hell was it necessary to wake up at sunrise. Then she remembered Francesco, that she had to take him the sculpture, have lunch with Gerard and his mother…

She stood suddenly, then
, moaning, grabbed her head with both hands. It was threatening to roll on the floor because of the pain.

This cannot be hap
pening, this day is a disaster!
she told herself.
If I really have to meet Mrs. Leon –
was that her name? –
why couldn’t it have been on a day when I was well-rested?

She hated waking up early. However, since she’
d met Gerard, it seemed she did only that.

“
I doubt he’s worth the effort,” she muttered, addressing Pirata, who had come to give her a morning kiss. Then she smiled, stretching languorously.

“Hell… The guy’
s worth any effort!” she told the cat, then dragged herself into the bathroom, under the shower, ruthlessly turning on the cold water.

Pirata
sat on the toilet lid, washing his paws, listening with the habit’s indifference the curses and unidentifiable noises coming from under the cold jet.

Linda got out of the
bath still frowning, but feeling a little more alive. She descended into the kitchen, fed the cat and made herself a strong cup of coffee. She usually didn’t even have coffee in the house, because she didn’t drink any, but Mrs. Adams did, so… Seeing as desperate situations demanded desperate measures, she mentally thanked Mrs. Adams sipping the hot liquid.

Taking her mug in the bedroom
, she faced the closet, trying to imagine what she should wear for her first encounter with the mother of a man to whom she had a more or less sexual affair.

Who are you trying to fool?
she self-admonished.
You’re in love with him head over heels. By all appearances, he’s fallen for you too.

After a long analysis, she decided on a co
tton blue dress, with a bow tied around the waist. The skirt was wavy, reaching a few inches below her knees. It resembled a bit the notorious dress Marilyn Monroe had wore in the movie
Seven year itch
, where the diva had let her dress flutter, exposing her underwear – that scene had made history.

The dress made her look respectable and serious, but not exces
sively conservative.

“Only the color is different,
” she said aloud, studying herself in the mirror. “And the cup size.”

Sighing, she changed in jeans and a black tank top, carefully placing the dress on a chair.

She put on a pair of sunglasses that covered half of her face, then went downstairs.

She took from the hallway the sculpture she
intended to take to Francesco. She placed the object, wrapped in paper, on the passenger seat of her car. Following a short debate, she fastened the seatbelt over it, laughing by herself.

“I
t’s like I’m transporting the Crown Jewels,” she said amused, as she drove to the gallery.

“Y
ou are a treasure,
bella mia
!” exclaimed Francesco, analyzing ecstatically the small wood piece. Did you make this in a single day?”

“Yeah. I had… inspiration,
” she answered, watching the features resembling her lover’s, features she had carved herself on the Apollo’s wooden face. The statue reigned in the middle of the room, imposing, as though defying the entire human kind with amused superiority. “I was afraid you have nowhere to put it,” she went on.

“Ah,
bella mia
, there’s always room for brilliant works,” he said in his baritone voice. “Annarita, come here, my dear!”

From
the shadows of a lateral corridor appeared a stunningly beautiful young woman – tall, graceful, her long black hair reaching her waist and a pair of dark eyes exuding charm. Francesco introduced her to Linda:

“My dear, this
is Annarita, my assistant, imported straight from our birth land, because only the great Michelangelo Buonarotti’s compatriots know to appreciate and create true art. This is Ms. Linda Coriola, the jewel of our humble gallery.”

Annarita i
nclined her head a fraction, saying in Italian:

“It’s an honor for me to meet you, Ms. Coriola. I have admired your work
s ever since I first saw them. You have an extraordinary talent.”

Linda smiled and offered her h
and, replying in the same language:

“It’s very nice to me
et you, Annarita! Please call me Linda, I don’t think I’m very much older than yourself. Thank you for your compliments.”

“Annarita is also goi
ng to become a great sculptress. She is a student at the Art University,” Francesco intervened. “She will follow into your footsteps,
cara mia
.”

“I wish you the best
of luck in this career choice,” Linda told the young woman. “And now, please excuse me, but I must go.”

Fra
ncesco vaguely gesticulated, the sculpture still in his hand.

“Won’t you stay to see where we can find a p
lace to arrange your new work?” he protested.

“I’m sure you and Annarita will find th
e ideal spot. Take care of it. It might not seem like much, but… It has a special significance to me. See you on Saturday!”

Smiling, she threw another glance
at the statue of Apollo, then said goodbye to the two.

Since she had enough free time until twelve o’clock
, when Gerard had promised to pick her up, she wandered through the city, indulging with some shopping. She intended to practice her culinary expertise by preparing delicious meals for her lover, now and again.

Now and again?

She was just loading the bags into her trunk when this thought made her freeze, her hands in the air.

This sounds like we have a long-term relationship.
Why the hell am I so alarmed by this prospect? Maybe I should go see a shrink.

Shrugging with a deep sigh, she arranged the bags, loc
ked the trunk and headed home.

Once she got there, she munched on
an apple and two biscuits as she began to fix herself for their lunch visit.

She carefully did her makeup, using only black eye-liner and mascara to
contour her blue cat eyes. They made a nice contrast with her slightly tanned skin. Following that, she applied a pale pink lipstick and considered the makeup thing done.

She put on her blue dress, almos
t the same shade as her eyes, searching for a matching purse. She slipped her feet into casual black sandals. Finally, she brushed her long hair and twisted it into a sort of knot at her nape, elegant but casual in the same time.

She was just throwing a last gl
ance in the mirror when the intercom buzzed, indicating Gerard’s presence in front of her gates.

She quickly descended the stairs and pressed the button to open the gates, unlocked the front door and went again in the bed
room to retrieve her purse. As she descended the stairs for the second time, Gerard was just letting himself in. He stopped in the doorway, looking up at her, his gaze lingering on her body in a way which never ceased to make her feel literally hot.

“You are superb, my love!” he said, reaching out a hand to help her descend the last steps.

“You don’t look half bad yourself,” she replied studying his simple attire, consisting of jeans that fitted perfectly in all the right places and a white short-sleeved T-shirt. It perfectly highlighted the excellent muscle tone of his chest, shoulders and arms.

When he encircled her waist and tightened his hold, bending to kis
s her, she stepped back a little. Gerard, not understanding her seemingly rejection gesture, asked irritated: