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Authors: Kate Hofman

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Alessandro
followed her gaze.  “My collection of snuff-boxes,” he said. 
        

Connie
sighed.  She hadn’t consciously thought of Alessandro as an exceptionally
rich man. Now she realized that was exactly what he was—very, very rich.

“Would
you like some more wine?” he asked. 

“Thank
you…” Connie began to say, when Alessandro’s cell phone began to burr.  He
glanced at it and frowned, saying, “My mother—I’d better take it.”

“Pronto,”
he said.
 
Connie heard an excited, high voice begin to
whine.


Certamente
non, Madre
.
”  
More high-voiced monologue.

“No.” 
Alessandro clicked his phone off and set it for messages to go straight
to voice-mail.  Glancing at Connie, he explained, “My mother wants to give
a dinner party where I can meet her friends and their convent-educated, pure
daughters.”

“I
guess
certamente non
means certainly not?”

“I’m
delighted to discover you’re a linguist,” he teased.

They
had been sipping wine for a while, when the landline buzzed. 
        Connie raised a brow.  “Your mother
has discovered another way of getting hold of you?”

“We’ll
see,” he said, barking
“Pronto!”
into the receiver.

More
high-pitched monologue.

Speaking
Italian very slowly, Alessandro said, “I will agree to a
family
dinner,
Madre.  Any non-family members will be removed, by me.  Bear that in
mind when you issue invitations. 
Solamente la famiglia.  Ciao.”

Replacing
the receiver, Alessandro grinned at Connie.  “I wonder by what circuitous
routes she will manage to invite her convent-bred pure candidates for me to
wed.”  His sudden laugh pierced the tranquil atmosphere.  “Never.”

“Please
feel free to ask for any help you may need,” Connie offered.

“I’ll
need your help for my reciprocal dinner, here in the big downstairs dining room
that seats 48 at a U-shaped table where the host sits at the centre.”  He
smiled.  “I’ll have my
Nonna
to my right and you to my left. 
 Then two of my favourite uncles, Armando and Roberto, then my mother and
Aunt Sofia, she is a sweetheart.  My uncle Roberto hasn’t been quite so
lucky with Aunt Marisa—a vicious gossip and guaranteed to make deliberate
faux-pas
that she hopes will force me to tell her more about me than she can
reasonably expect.”  He grinned. “She can expect, but she won’t get.”

“I’m
sorry that your family visits here are fraught with difficulties,” said Connie,
concerned.

“I’m
better off than on previous occasions—I’ve got you in my corner.”

“That
you have, Alessandro, promise.”

“As
you have my promise that I will wipe the floor with anyone who should dare to
be even marginally discourteous to you—and that includes my mother.”

“Alessandro…”

“Sssh,”
he said softly. 

 

 

Chapter 5.

 

 

The
next evening, Alessandro presented himself to Connie.  “Will you check me
over?  I don’t want my mother’s eagle eye to discover any flaws.”

Connie
laughed.  “You’re always a picture of effortless grace, and invariably
you’re faultlessly attired—particularly in evening clothes.”  She walked
around him, pretending to inspect him minutely—and gave him a big smile. 
“Yes.  As I thought—you’re perfect.  I will hope for you that your
mother has done as you asked, and invited only family members.”

Alessandro
raised a brow.  “If she hasn’t, you will see me back here inside half an
hour.”

Connie
teased, “Or you could throw the little ninnies out—they are not family.”

 “And
never will be.”  He grinned at Connie.  “Don’t think that delicious
possibility hadn’t already occurred to me—” 

Teasing
gone, Connie gazed at him.  “I hope you will have a pleasanter evening
than you seem to expect.”

 “I
wish you were coming, but I’m hoist with my own petard of family only,” he
said.  “Wish me luck.” 

 “
Buona
fortuna,”
Connie smiled.

His
slim black brows lifted in surprise.  “
Grazie.”  
With
that, he was gone.

 

****

 

Alessandro
asked Aldo to drive him in the limousine to his mother’s house, at some
distance from Florence, but in a different direction from his own
palazzo.
  
Once they had cleared the city traffic, Aldo made good time, and delivered Alessandro
promptly at 7:30 to his mother’s butler, Ernesto Filippi—who received him with
delight, saying, “
Signor Conte—”

 “Glad
to see you looking so well, Ernesto.  I hope Maria is in good health as
well.”

 “Oh
yes, thank you,
Signor Conte… 
She went to great lengths for this
dinner, because you were coming.”  Ernesto made a slight gesture inviting
Alessandro to walk ahead of him to the double doors of his mother’s main
reception room.

 “The
Conte
di Montedalcino,” Ernesto said, and stepped over to the drinks
cabinet, intending to pour Alessandro’s favourite white wine.

 “Alessandro,
my son!” his mother trilled and went to embrace him.

 “Mamà,”
he said, embracing her, but his eyes sought someone else.  The moment he
spotted his paternal grandmother, he let go of his mother and went to a petite,
thin, still beautiful old lady.  “
Nonna!”
he exclaimed, hugging her
warmly but carefully.  He always felt as if a big hug would break her in
half. 

Tears
in her eyes, she whispered,
“Nipotino mio
– my grandson.  I’ve
missed you so, and now you will have to be polite and say hello to all these
relatives…”

Alessandro
smiled, still holding his grandmother.  “Not necessarily,” he assured
her.  Waving to the others, he said, “Forgive me, but I haven’t seen my

Nonna
in such a long time.”  Smiles and nods greeted this remark, and he
took his Nonna
to a love-seat and sat down with her.

 “Alessandro! 
I am waiting to introduce you…” his mother began. 

 “But
this is a family dinner, Mamà.  Everybody is known to me, and they will
forgive me for spending some time with Nonna
.

 “Introductions
will have to be made for…”

Coldly,
Alessandro said, “I told you this would be a family-only dinner,

Mamà.
I will not tolerate non-family guests.”  He felt sure that his mother had
made some kind of signal, because suddenly he was surrounded by three very
young women—17, 18, he estimated.
Dio mio! 
Had his mother totally
lost her marbles?  The girls hugged themselves to Alessandro’s free side,
and one even slipped behind the love-seat, rubbing her cheek against
Alessandro’s.

Still
holding on to his Nonna
,
Alessandro bit out, his voice contemptuous and
dismissive, “Step back—now!  How dare you put your hands on me!  You
are acting like accomplished
puttanas.” 
His mother gasped loudly
in dismay, but there was no complaint from Nonna.

Coldly,
Nonna said, “You’re absolutely right, Sandro.  These girls have no
modesty, no class.  They are trash.” 

Furious,
his mother said, “These are carefully brought up young ladies, pure and
convent-educated.  Alessandro!  How can you be so rude!”

“Easy,”
said Alessandro.  “Wherever they were brought up, they were taught the
manners of whores.”  He glanced around and saw Ernesto.  He held up a
hand and Ernesto was instantly at his side.

“Signor
Conte?”

Alessandro
said, “Will you please ask Aldo to drive these three interlopers home. 
This is a family dinner.  They do not qualify for it—and they never
will.  As you’ve seen they behave like little prostitutes.”

 “Of
course,
Signor Conte. 
Immediately.”  Ernesto raised a brow
and two young servers hurried over to him.  “Help me remove these three
non-family members, and put them in the
Signor Conte’s
limousine. 
Aldo will drive them home.  Get their addresses from them.”

One
girl protested, “We aren’t going to give you our addresses, so how can you
drive us home, hah?”

Shrugging
one shoulder negligently, Alessandro said, “If they will not give their
addresses, ask Aldo to drive them to that slum with all the sleazy night clubs. 
Their manners qualify them for such a place.”

 “You
can’t do that!” one of the girls said, and was instantly supported by
Alessandro’s mother, who moaned, “You can’t, Alessandro!”

 “Yes,
I can and I will.  You three get out of here, you are spoiling a family
dinner.”  He turned away from the girls, devoting all his attention to his
Nonna
again.

After
a while, Alessandro glanced up and saw his Uncles Armando and Roberto approach,
both smiling widely.  “Forgive us for interrupting what I can see is a
long overdue reunion with your Nonna,

Uncle Armando said, “But we
wanted to tell you that you were absolutely right in evicting these sordid
little tarts.  What on earth made Gina invite them? 
Convent-educated?  Don’t make me laugh!”

 “Cat-house
educated, they seemed to be,” said Uncle Roberto. 

Nonna
smiled at her sons.  “You’re absolutely right, Armando and Roberto. 
When I see how my daughter-in-law behaves, I am so sorry for your late brother,
who had to put up with her.  And now she is determined to force one of her
friends’ daughters on Sandro in marriage, for whatever nefarious purpose of her
own.  She will not succeed, while I still draw breath.”  Putting a
thin hand on Roberto’s arm, she said, “Will you two help me defang Gina, once
and for all?”

Alessandro
gently caressed Nonna’s
narrow shoulder.  “Nonna
,
I promise
you, when the time is right I will choose my own bride.  If my mother
persists in her idiotic interfering, I shall stop her allowance.  And I’ll
tell her I will place an ad in the legal gazette, and the main newspapers
advising that I will not be held responsible for her debts.” 

His
uncles’ appreciative grins quickly turned to animated laughter, and Gina, who
had been watching them, wondered what her son and her brothers-in-law could
find so funny.  Agitated, she thought that it might be something to her
detriment.  She narrowed her eyes.  She would keep on trying—she
would get a million Euros from the mother of the girl she succeeded in forcing
on Alessandro.  She frowned.  She
had
to bring this off. 
She had overspent grossly and stupidly, and didn’t dare approach her son to pay
off her debts.  She hadn’t thought he would be so angry at her bit of
matchmaking—calling it interfering in his private life.  Now, she knew that
he would refuse to help her out financially.  

Her
frown got deeper. 
Why didn’t I ask him for the money first?  I
could’ve waited until the next dinner to force one of these girls on him. 
Now, he is totally turned off them—and me.  Calling them puttanas! 
I’ll show him…
  But she realized uneasily that she had nothing to show
him, and would not succeed in forcing him to marry one of her candidates. 
She shrugged.  She’d think of something else, never fear.  She
had
to get her hands on some serious money.

****

When
Alessandro got back to his penthouse, he found Connie reading.  She looked
up the moment she heard the door of the reception room open.  She
pretended to look him over, finally saying, “No bandages, no arm in a
sling.  Hostilities must have been kept to a minimum?”

Alessandro
smiled and—with a brief “You permit?”—took off his jacket.  He began to
tug his tie loose, opening the top three buttons of his shirt.  “Mm, there
was quite a bit of hostility.  My mother had invited three girls of about
17, and the moment I sat down—with my Nonna
,
by the way—those girls were
all over me, as if they were in training for jobs in a harem.  I told my
mother these girls weren’t family, and asked her butler to bundle them into my
limo for Aldo to drive them home.”  He grinned.  “I’ve never seen my
mother so raving mad, but it got her nowhere.”

 “From
the way you mentioned your Nonna
,
I guess she was the family member you
really wanted to see?” 

Alessandro
nodded.  “Will you do me a favour and remind me tomorrow to arrange for my
lawyer to advise my mother that—at the first sign of her interfering again in
my life, and that includes her asinine matchmaking—her allowance will be
stopped.”

Connie
smiled.  “Alessandro, you are my boss—reminding you of something is what
I’m here for.  It isn’t some kind of favour!”

Alessandro
shook his head.  “No, that is not what you’re here for.  And we’re
not working now, so I asked you for a favour.”

Connie
nodded, surprised.  “Thank you, Alessandro.  That was a charming way
to ask.”

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