Tuscan Heat. Deborah Fletcher Mello
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offer.”
“You have friends here in Tuscany?” Alessandra asked.
Donovan smiled. “Yes, Gianna Martelli and the Martelli family. They have a vineyard in the heart of the Tuscan Maremma, not far from the province of Grosseto.”
Both women shrugged indifferently. “Martelli is a very common name here in Italy,” Sophie said, disappointment shimmering in her tone.
Donovan nodded. “Perhaps we can have breakfast in the morning and you can show me around? I’m very excited to see the campus and get acquainted with the faculty.”
The older woman grinned. “Definitely! That is definitely doable.”
* * *
Gianna was as nervous as her sister, the two women scurrying about trying to ensure everything was perfect before Donovan Boudreaux arrived for dinner. Freshly cut flowers decorated the home, resting atop the tables and counters. All the windows had been opened, and a warm breeze blew like a whisper through the space. A roasted chicken scented the air, and handmade pasta waited on the wooden countertop to be dropped into lightly salted water.
Franco and Graham exchanged a look as both women came to an abrupt halt, eyeing each other from across the room. A silent conversation passed between them, something unique that only they understood. The brevity of it could have filled a thimble, but in that brief moment there was something magnanimous that happened between them.
Gianna sighed softly, and as if she’d caught the warm breath, Carina folded her hand into a tight fist, pulling it to the spot between her breasts. Both women smiled, and then just as abruptly resumed their frantic fussing about.
Franco broke the silence. “Have you spoken to this man, Gianna?” he asked curiously.
She paused to meet her father’s stare. “I sent him a text message. His flight should have landed by now, and once he gets settled he’s going to find his way here.”
“Did you want me to go get him?” Graham asked.
“No!” both women answered in unison.
“It’s just a ride!” Graham replied, bristling slightly.
“You would tell him. I know you,” Carina said.
Gianna nodded in agreement. “It has to come from us. From Carina.”
“Why from me?” her sister asked, turning to stare at Gianna.
“Because this is all your fault. You’re the one who allowed this lie to snowball.”
“You could have told him already,” Carina said. “You’ve been emailing back and forth for the last two weeks. So you’ve been playing in that snow, too!”
“I could have,” Gianna said matter-of-factly. “But then he might not have come.” She cut an eye in Carina’s direction.
Her sister laughed. “I knew you would like him!”
“I find him interesting. So, yes, I’m curious.”
Carina jumped up and down excitedly. “You really like him!” she exclaimed.
Franco laughed as he rose from his seat, peering out the front window. “That’s a good thing because your new friend just pulled up outside!”
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