Venetian Masquerade (12 page)

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Authors: Suzanne Stokes

BOOK: Venetian Masquerade
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Amy was taken aback. “We can like all sorts of people, James. I knew Alessandro a long time ago.”

“Before I was born?”

“Yes.”

“I wish he lived in Venice. He’s better at football than Gabriel.”

They had reached the park, and Amy led James to the bench and sat beside him.

“James.” She felt as though a lump had formed in her throat, but she knew this was the time to tell James the truth, and she wondered whether life would ever be the same afterwards. “James, you know you asked who your papa is.”

“And you said he wasn’t your friend anymore so we couldn’t see him.”

“Yes. Well, now we are friends again.”

“So, he can come and see me?”

“Yes. Would you like that?”

“Yes…I think so.” He sat thoughtfully for a moment before turning an anxious face to his mother. “But supposing I don’t like him? What if he doesn’t like me? He won’t take me away from you, will he?” His little face crumpled and tears ran down his face. James was suddenly panic stricken, as so many thoughts and worries crowded into his previously trouble-free world.

“No, sweetheart, he would never take you away. But he does want to know you.” Amy put her arms tightly around him.

“Why didn’t he want to know me before?”

“I didn’t tell him about you until a few weeks ago. He didn’t know you existed.”

“When will I see him?”

“On Saturday. James, you have already met him and you like him. Alessandro is your papa.”

James raised his tear-stained face to hers, and a small smile quivered on his lips. “He promised to take me to see Juventus.”

“He did, and he will.”

“Is he going to live with us?”

“No, James. He is married to someone else now. But he will come and visit and take you out. And maybe, when you know him better and you are a bit older, you can visit him in Rome.”

“Can I call him Papa?”

“He would love you to call him Papa. You never got the hang of Alessandro anyway, did you?”

“I can’t wait to tell Donna. If Alessondo… Alesondoo is going to be my papa, maybe Gabriel can be hers.”

“It doesn’t work quite like that, James. Shall we go home?”

But the image of Gabriel, Donna, and Sonya walking down the road together came back to Amy, and suddenly, in an intuitive flash, she knew that Sonya’s anger after James’s party had something to do with her own feelings for Gabriel. With a gasp, she wondered how she could have been so blind. Poor Sonya was in love with Gabriel, but believed Gabriel was in love with Amy.

“Oh, what a tangled web we weave…” she muttered to herself. “Now what am I going to do?”

When Amy and James arrived back at the villa, the decorators were leaving for the day and darkness had fallen. Gabriel had called in and was waiting for them in the kitchen, and James ran to him and flung his arms round his legs.

“Guess what, Gabriel! Alessondo is my papa.”

Gabriel glanced at Amy, and she shrugged. “I had to tell him. You were right, Gabriel. Life moves on and he has…they both have…a right to know each other.”

Gabriel took James on his knee. “James, I am very glad for you. Alessandro is a fine man, and he will be very proud to have you as a son.”

“I can still love you, though, can’t I? I won’t stop seeing you because of him?” he asked, anxiety once more clouding his face.

“Oh, James, of course not.” He hugged the boy, deeply touched. “Sonya, Donna, and I…we’re like your family, and we all love you and Mama.”

“And Carmela and Antonio?”

“Yes, we are all best friends, and nothing will change that. I tell you what. Why don’t I take you fishing on Sunday morning—just you and me?”

“Oh, yes! Thank you.” He wriggled down and went to watch television in the new living room.

Amy sat opposite Gabriel at the kitchen table and wondered whether he had any idea Sonya had feelings for him. She had no intention of dabbling between them; her own life was far too complicated already, and anyway, it was something they had to discover for themselves.

“How are you—inside, I mean—now that James knows the truth?” Gabriel asked her.

“I don’t know. Glad, sad, confused…remorseful they have both missed out on five years together because I was so angry with Alessandro. When I look back, I realize what an idiot I was. I mean, why would a millionaire whose family is practically Italian aristocracy even think of marrying someone like me? If I had been worldlier, I would have understood and possibly even accepted the situation. Maybe I should have stayed and simply been his mistress, but I was an idealist and I felt betrayed. My illusions were shattered and so was my heart. Now I have to grow up and deal with my feelings, for James’s sake.”

“Well, to cheer you up, tomorrow, why don’t you and I go to Padua for the day? There are some lots coming up at the auction that would be perfect for the dining room. If we leave after James goes to school, Sonya or Carmela will pick him up. We’ll be back by about five thirty?”

“Yes, that sounds a lovely idea. Gabriel, you are such a good friend.”

“Yes, I am.” He stood and passing behind her chair, ruffled her hair.

“Gabriel…” She faltered, but she had to know. “Sonya believes you and I are an item. You know I would never hurt you, and…well, we are all right, aren’t we? I mean, you’re not really…?”

“In love with you?” He paused. “I definitely was, because although you were never aware of it, I had the most enormous crush on you when you were fifteen.”

“You did? But you were horrible to me!”

“That was because I was too gauche to cope with my feelings, and I’m sorry. But the truth is, I used to dream about you—in spite of the spots—so yes, in those days, I can say I was madly in love with you. When you came back a few months ago, I knew it would be all too easy to let my feelings develop; you are a lovely woman, and it would be a cold man who didn’t fancy you. But I quickly realized your heart was elsewhere and you were a lost cause. So, ever the pragmatist, when you rightly turned down my proposal, I knew your friendship and the relationship that has grown up between all of us—Sonya, Donna, and you and James—would be one of the most important of my life, and I wasn’t about to wreck it. I’ve had a lot of girlfriends. So far, none has been right for me, and for now, I am just happy to be with all of you. Inevitably, the dynamics of our friendship will evolve as time goes on. We’ll just have to wait and see what those changes are, won’t we?”

Amy rose and gave him a hug. “I am so glad you said all that.”

“Are you going to enlighten Alessandro about the true relationship between you and me?”

“Not yet. It’s like a buffer; it gives me a breathing space. Do you mind?”

“No. I’m going now, but I’ll pick you up at eight thirty, and we’ll take a
vaporetto
to the train station. I’m glad you told James about Alessandro.”

“Yes,” she sighed. “I suppose I am too.”

He kissed her cheek and left, chugging off down the canal in the boat towards the lights of Venice on the horizon.

Their trip to Padua was a great success, and they bought a number of pieces of furniture and some pictures for the communal rooms of the hotel. As luck would have it, the delivery van drew up outside the house the next day just as Alessandro arrived.

“You’ve been shopping?” he said, sidling through the door past a burly deliveryman.

“Yes, I went to Padua with Gabriel yesterday. These things are for the dining and conference room. We hope to open the hotel at the end of January, before the carnival.”

“Are you going to run it together—you and Gabriel?”

“No, it’s my hotel. Gabriel is an art and antique dealer. He has a shop and apartment on the main island, not far from St. Mark’s Square.”

“He doesn’t live here?”

“No, he just stays over sometimes…”

“I see.”

Amy realized the implication of what she had just said and flushed.

“Sorry, Amy, I didn’t mean to pry.”

She shrugged and indicated to Alessandro to sit down. “James is in the back garden on his bike. I wanted to tell you that I have explained to him that you are his father. I told him we are friends now, and he knows you didn’t know about his existence until recently. He is also worried you might take him away from me.”

Alessandro rose and went to look through the window at James, now quite confidently riding round the garden. “Can I go out and see him? I promise I will reassure him.”

“Of course. And Alessandro...”

“Yes?”

“He wants to call you Papa.”

She watched as the tall, elegant, utterly gorgeous man she knew she would love for the rest of her life walked down the lawn and crouched down to talk to James. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but after a few moments, James hesitantly moved to Alessandro, and the tall man picked up the small boy and held him tightly, his shoulders shaking with emotion.

A while later, they came into the warmth of the kitchen, where Amy was preparing supper. She had set the table for the three of them and indicated to Alessandro to sit down. He was so pale, he looked as if he might fall down. She set a large scotch in front of him and left him to collect his thoughts while helping James choose a suitable TV program in the adjoining room. When she came back, the color had returned to his face, and as she walked by, he suddenly caught her hand.

“Amy, I can’t begin to tell you…”

“You don’t need to. I could see for myself.” She pulled her hand gently away and moved across the kitchen, out of touching distance.

“You don’t need to feel threatened. I would never hurt either of you.”

She regarded him silently, her eyes dark and brooding, thinking he could hardly hurt her more than he had already. And yet, in these past few weeks, she had seen a side of him she had previously not suspected—his affinity with children, his less arrogant attitude, his liking for football, for goodness’ sake. Here he was, completely out of his normal environment—no Silver Lady, no mansion, no Jaguar...just an untidy kitchen with James’s toys stacked in a corner and rather large puppy pulling at his shoelace—and he seemed to like it.

“You said you wanted to see me about some investments which still need to be sorted out?”

“Yes. I have them here.” He picked up a briefcase he had come in with and took out a sheaf of papers. “The investments you already had in your name were worth close to half a million euros, and your solicitors have helped you liquidate those to give you the money to convert the hotel. However, there is another one, a property in Rome, which, when Maria bought it, was worth very little—a large old hostel—and she must have had amazing foresight to buy it.”

“My father was her adviser.”

“He advised her well. Now, because of where it is located, it is worth a fortune. It could be converted to offices with shops and restaurants underneath at ground level.”

“A fortune?”

“Potentially.”

“It would cost a great deal to convert it, wouldn’t it?”

“That wouldn’t be your problem.”

“No, Alessandro, I don’t want any favors…”

“Not a favor. We could do it as a joint project, and I would take my profit, just as if you were any other client, except I would put my share in a trust fund for James. Would you allow me to do that?”

“Well, yes, I suppose so,” she said doubtfully. “What’s it like, this building? Have you seen it?”

“Yes, I went to have a look last week. It’s a rundown wreck in a suburb of Rome, but there are new rail links, and lots of businesses are moving out of the city. You would have no problem letting shops and offices. I have a photograph, but…I hardly dare suggest this, why don’t you and James come to Rome to take a look for yourself?”

“I…no, I don’t think so. I’ve never been back to Rome since…” She shuddered at the prospect.

“Since you ran away from me?”

“I don’t want to talk about that—it’s in the past, and that’s where I want to keep it.”

“All right…but just answer me one question.” He paused, considering his words. “Amy, I have to know… Did you love me so little?”

Her control suddenly snapped and she yelled at him, “I adored you, Alessandro, but you were the one who was promised to someone else—to Sophia Bellucci and her millions. You let me believe, silly little fool that I was, that you loved me and we might have a future together. Then you took me to that awful party, and I just knew that I was living in a fool’s paradise. I could sense immediately I was an outsider in that society, and then your father came round the next day and told me what a bastard you were—how you had hurt so many women and you would do the same to me. He said he felt sorry for Sophia because you would be incapable of being faithful to her. So yes, I got the hell out. It’s what your father called self-preservation!”

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