Northern Moonlight (19 page)

Gio was nonplussed by her brisk attitude, but did not comment on it.  “Can I come in for just a few minutes?” Sabrina pushed open the screen door and waved her arms for him to step into the living room.

“Would you like a cup of coffee?  I just brewed a pot of hazelnut.” She offered with deliberate formality.

“No, thanks, I’m fine.  Sabrina, is everything alright?  You seem a little on edge this morning.” Gio observed.

“On edge?” Sabrina was offended.  “Not at all.  Please, tell me why you’re here.” Her ceremonious treatment of Gio persisted, leaving him now feeling on edge.

Brusquely, he said, “I have some news from Max pertaining to the investigation.  He has a plan for us to interview Glen Cooper.”

Sabrina’s expression softened.  No matter what transpired between them on a personal level, she was a person of loyalty and would not renege on her offer to help him get justice for his family.  “That’s good news, Gio.  Tell me more.”

Encouraged by the shift in her tone, Gio relayed the phone conversation with Max.  At the conclusion of his story, he said, “Here’s the part where you come in.  There’s going to be some sort of photography exhibit held at Waters Gallery in Montpelier, and since Cooper is confirmed on the guest list, we were hoping that you could somehow get us tickets to the event.”

Sabrina nodded enthusiastically.  “I think you’re referring to the annual New England Nature Photography Exhibit.  I’ve covered those for the magazine in past years, but this year I wasn’t assigned to go.  But I could ask my boss Darlene if she could get us some complimentary tickets.  I don’t think it should be a problem, although it is a little last minute.  The exhibit is always held the third weekend in May if I’m not mistaken, and that’s next weekend.”

“Yes, Friday, May sixteenth to be exact.” Gio interjected, recalling what Max had said.

“In that case, I’ll have to talk to Darlene first thing tomorrow.  It’s a black tie gala, so you and your friend will need tuxedos.  Come to think of it, I should ask my sister Cara.  This could be just what she needs to get her out of the slump she’s been in since breaking up with her boyfriend.”

“That sounds great, Sabrina.  I don’t know how to thank you.  As soon as I get the green light from you, I’ll tell Max that we’re in.  It’s not going to be fun renting those tuxes though.”

“You don’t have a tuxedo?” Sabrina inquired teasingly.

“No ma’am.” He grinned boyishly.  “I’m a hard working man with the wardrobe of a lumberjack.  There’s no time to be flitting about in fancy clothes at dumb parties.”

“This event is not a dumb party! It’s very prestigious and draws photographers and other artists from all over New England.” Sabrina defended, as Gio shrugged, unable to get excited about an event that he would be attending in such an unfortunate context.  Seeming to read his thoughts, Sabrina changed the subject.  “How did things go last night after you had to rush out?”

“I had an industrial fire to tackle, but since then it’s been mercifully quiet.  I’m still on call, though, as we speak.”

“So at any time you could be paged on that beeper?”

“Correct.  Does that bother you?”

It wouldn’t be fair for either of them to be expected to choose between career and relationship, so she was diplomatic in her response.  “You don’t work a nine to five job, and I understand that because I don’t either.  But the idea of being on call like an emergency room physician is new to me.”

Gio considered her words.  “I’m not on call all the time, but I do have to accommodate the needs of the firehouse.  We rely heavily on volunteers, but they’re extremely difficult to recruit and retain.  People have a hard enough time risking their lives for a paycheck and health benefits, let alone for altruism.  But I’m glad you understand.”

Gio leaned over on the sofa to slip a hand under Sabrina’s robe onto her bare thigh.  Her body desired his touch instantly, but her heart and mind warned against a repeat episode of last night.

As gently as she could, Sabrina removed Gio’s hand from her thigh and said, “Let’s not let things get out of hand.”

More befuddled than before, Gio accused, “Seems like you’re hot and cold, Sabrina.  How could your thermometer plunge so dramatically from last night to this morning?”

Sabrina’s response was frosty.  “I am perfectly consistent, Gio.  You’re the one who seems to run hot and cold.”

“How’s that?” Gio inquired, frowning.

Not wanting to bring up the subject of his hectic schedule again, Sabrina sniffed, “Never mind.  I would like to dress and get on with my day if that’s alright.  I’ll be sure to talk to Darlene as soon as I get to the office tomorrow.”

Gio was insulted as she hustled him out of her house.  “Don’t bother.  Max and I can do this without you and your sister.” He jerked himself off the sofa as she rose to follow him.

“Hold on a second. I can’t believe you don’t know why I’m upset.”

Gio did know but didn’t want to admit it.  “What are you talking about?”

Sabrina felt awkward as she said, “The way you---well, the way you just
thanked
me.  It seemed so impersonal after everything we shared.”  

Unwilling to bare his emotions, Gio said brusquely, “I’m sorry for any misunderstanding between us, Sabrina.  Have a good day and I’ll speak with you soon.”

Gio proceeded to shuffle out the door without so much as a hug or kiss good-bye.  Shaking her head in despair, Sabrina trudged back to her kitchen table where her coffee had grown cold and soupy.  Crumpling the newspaper into a ball, Sabrina threw it across the room in frustration.  She would help Giovanni Salvatore with his arson investigation, but that would be the extent of their relationship, she vowed, tasting the saltiness of her own tears. 

Chapter 10

Monday morning, as promised, Sabrina waltzed into Darlene’s office and easily obtained four complimentary tickets to the photography exhibition.  In exchange for the tickets, Sabrina had agreed to take pictures of the gala for publication in the magazine.  After work, she had called Cara and persuaded her to come to Vermont on Friday.  Initially, Cara was resistant, still preferring to wallow in her heartbreak rather than face reality without Bruce.  When Sabrina had casually mentioned that there would be a cheese tasting, Cara had erupted in mocking laughter, saying, “New Yorkers have wine tastings and this dairy party sounds like it should take place in a barnyard!”  Cara’s snobbery had only made Sabrina roll her eyes.  In the end, the hilarious prospect of a cheese tasting reception had been too much for Cara to resist.  She would arrive at Sabrina’s house on Friday morning and stay for the weekend.

After her conversation with Cara, Sabrina had felt obligated to call Gio and tell him where they stood with the tickets.  Not letting pride be a hindrance, Sabrina had picked up the phone and called the man, only to have the line ring off the hook.  She tried several more times that evening and eventually went to sleep without having reached him. 

On Tuesday morning, she awoke feeling angry and beat her pillow several times to relieve tension as Softy watched with bulging eyes and cocked ears.  Deciding to wait a while until she telephoned Gio again, Sabrina grabbed her purse and drove to her favorite shopping center in Burlington.  The center housed numerous boutiques and just one major department store.  Hoping for a bargain on an evening gown for the gala, Sabrina combed through the aisles of the department store, not really sure what style of dress she was looking for. 

Most of the evening gowns on the rack were the ubiquitous formal shade of black, but Sabrina sought a more riveting color.  Finally, after shooing away an aggressive sales attendant, she selected three gowns to take to the dressing room as “finalists.”  The first was a saucy, above-the-knee cocktail dress made of daring red lace and flaunting a scalloped neckline.  The second candidate was a more conservative full-length gown in white crepe material.  Sabrina’s third dress was an elegant compromise between the first two: a festive, silver-sequined curve hugger of moderate length and neckline.  As soon as she saw her reflection shining back at her from the dressing room mirror, Sabrina knew that the silver one would be the dress.  Yes, she concluded, the red dress would cause a scandal and garner too much attention while the white dress conspicuously resembled a wedding gown.

Pleased with herself as she noted the discount price on the tag, Sabrina traipsed over to the register, mentally selecting which pair of shoes she would wear.  Sabrina did not own many shoes or purses and could not understand the fetish that so many women had for these frivolous objects.  She only owned four pairs of high heels, and the most suitable pair would be her black sling-backs that she had worn on her first date with Gio.  Sabrina left the department store, glancing at her watch, tossing the shopping bag in the backseat of her car and hurrying over to the office for a scheduled staff meeting.

*****

Another day passed and still Sabrina could not track Gio down by telephone.  With the slightest bit of trepidation, she decided that she would land on his doorstep uninvited just as he had done with her.  On Wednesday night, after clearing away her dinner dishes, Sabrina drove to Gio’s loft for the first time.  As she tried to wrestle her sedan into a parallel parking spot on the crowded street, Sabrina looked up at the three-story building noting that a light was illuminated on the top floor.

Taking a deep breath, she rang the doorbell for Gio’s apartment.  Nerve-wracking moments passed until she could discern the familiar thud of his footsteps coming down the stairs.  The door swung open and his eyes widened curiously at the sight of her.

“Sabrina, are you trying to beat me at my own game?” He asked slyly.

“Game? What?” Sabrina mumbled, suddenly very unsure of herself.

“The uninvited but very welcome guest.  Isn’t that the game we’ve been playing lately?”

“I don’t know about you, but I sure haven’t been playing any games.  That’s not my modus operandi.” Sabrina said, flushed.

“There you go again with that intellectual language.  To what do I owe the honor of your presence?”

Ignoring his question, Sabrina countered, “Aren’t you going to invite me inside?”

“Of course, come on upstairs.”

With that, he turned his back to her and compelled her to follow him up the winding staircase.  Sabrina surveyed the barren space of Gio’s loft and immediately decided it could benefit from the warmth of a woman’s presence.  The walls were bare and, much like Gio’s aging truck, in dire need of painting.  There were no framed photographs or other decorations to break up the monotony.  The loft’s color scheme
was a study in muddy neutrals, with ceilings an odd hue of celery and the walls shaded in beige.  Gio’s furniture was equally nondescript with several unmatched pieces in muted earth tones and a leather sofa with a gaping hole in the side.