Tangled In Strings

Chapter Six

Relaxed after the on and off pleasure and sleep we acquired until dinnertime, we make our way to the main house with newfound excitement. The house is lit brightly from corner to corner, and there is an upbeat concerto piece blaring through the open windows for everyone to hear. We enter the villa, immediately finding Marco and Luca lounging, watching TV in the sitting room. I realize it's a spy movie dubbed in Italian. How they are hearing it over the music coming from the kitchen is beyond me.

"Back from the dead, huh?" Luca questions with a chuckle. Giovanni places his hands on his cousin's shoulders, squeezing in greeting. "Thought you guys were goners till tomorrow."

"Nearly. The smell was too good to resist."

At that, almost as if summoned by the compliment, Maria steps out of the kitchen and beckons us over with a sharp wave.

"Come! Come!"

At her call, we leave the men to their movie. Turning into the kitchen, I'm surprised to see that Maria isn't the only person inside it. There are two other chefs hard at work. One is mincing garlic carefully in the corner; the other is drizzling wine over the meat. Another person is setting up the long wood table that extends to each side of the room. There aren't seats, just two long benches on either side.

Maria is with that person, folding napkins onto the plates beautifully.

"You didn't have to do all of this, Zia," Giovanni says, observing the chaos.

"My favorite nephew and his beautiful girlfriend come to stay with me for a week? What are you talking about? Of course I did."

"Don't let Marco and Luca hear that," Giovanni teases.

"All they do is sit and stare at a screen. Grown men! It's despicable. My sister is probably rolling in her grave at the thought."

Until now, I had thought Marco and Luca were Maria's sons. At their banter, I realize Giovanni had another aunt who passed away.

"Would you like some help?"

She says something in Italian, cooing as she approaches Giovanni, arms raised. He bends reluctantly as she clasps his face, smacking her mouth against his cheeks. I bite my lip to hide my laugh.

"Maria, Maria," he pulls back, "What do you want me to do?"

She lets him go, handing him keys. "Fetch some wine from the cellar, then. Dark wine to go with the veal."

I move toward him, but she grabs my hand. "No, I keep her."

Giovanni's expression hardens in warning, and she laughs. "I will be good."

With a quick glance that shows me what I'm about to have to deal with, he turns, headed out the way we came in.

"Scarlett. Bella. That's such a beautiful name."

"My mom loved Gone With The Wind," I confess to her with embarrassment, swallowing past the lump of nervousness as she grabs my hand, patting it as we walk towards the counter.

"Too long for me."

"Me too," I add with a small smile.

She gestures for me to sit. She takes a place next to me on the bench with a sigh. Her hair is up in an untidy bun, her lips painted with a creamy red lipstick.

"Tell me about yourself. Giovanni hasn't told me much other than your profession. You are a businesswoman?"

"I work in PR."

"Yes, Gio was your client. I read that somewhere."

Damn, right out with the weighty stuff. "Yes, he was."