Part 23 (1/2)

The apartment was looking lovely, the offices were working with the usual frenzy, and the carousel had just arrived. It was the end of September, and Jason and Natasha had come to the penthouse to try it out. Alessandro was jumping up and down, laughing and squealing, and Jason had decided that it wasn't bad at all.

Oh, G.o.d, I love it, Isabella. I want one too. The two women smiled at each other, watching the children ride round and round. The first breeze of autumn had broken the spell of summer, and Isabella was stretched out on the terrace, outside her new home, pleased with her accomplishment.

The walls of the bedrooms had been covered in fabrics, there were wonderful curtains, and rugs on every floor. The bathrooms had already been done in marble when she bought it, but she had changed all the fixtures. Opening onto the terrace there were exquisite French doors.

You're a genius, Natasha said, looking admiringly around her.

No. I'm a designer. Sometimes that helps.

How's the new collection coming?

Slowly.

So is the new book.

It takes me time to settle down every time I change location. But at the rate they're going on the new office s.p.a.ce, I won't have to worry about that again till next year. It's taking them forever.

Baloney. How long have they been at it? She grinned at Isabella. Two weeks?

Isabella smiled back at her. Six.

Patience, patience!

A virtue for which I have never been known.

You're learning. She had learned a great deal of that in the last year. How does it feel to go out again?

Heavenly. And then she sobered. But a little strange. I keep waiting for it to happen. The awful. The inevitable. The press to flash lights in my face, and then the threats, the crank phone calls.

And does it?

Isabella shook her head, smiling slowly. No, only the reporters from Women's Wear who want to know what I'm eating or what I'm going to wear. But it takes a long time to forget the nightmare, Natasha. A very, very long time. At least she no longer waited for Amadeo to come home at night. It had taken a year. Which reminds me. She turned her thoughts to something light. I want you to join me for dinner tomorrow night. Are you busy?

Of course not. The man I spent my energies on all summer just went back to his wife. The b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

Isabella grinned, and they said it together: Nothing lasts forever.

Natasha said, Shut up and tell me where we're going.

The soft pink lighting warmed the familiar faces, faces one usually saw in fas.h.i.+on magazines or on the covers of Fortune or Time. Movie stars, moguls, publishers, authors, heads of corporations. The very good at what they did, and the very rich because they were. The tables were placed close together, the candles on the pink tablecloths danced in the soft breeze from the garden, and everyone's diamonds seemed to be glittering as s.h.i.+ning faces talked and laughed. Lutece had never been lovelier.

They ordered caviar to begin with, and filet mignon and poached salmon for each of them. A half bottle of red wine for Isabella, and a half of white for Natasha's fish. The salad was hearts of palm and endive, and there were big beautiful strawberries for dessert. Isabella was looking comfortable and happy, when suddenly Natasha noticed her dress.

What's the matter? Isabella watched her, but her friend just sat and stared.

For a whole year you look like a nun or a scarecrow and suddenly you don't and I didn't even notice.

Isabella only smiled. The period of official mourning was over, and tonight, for the first time, she was dressed in the palest mauve and white. The underdress was a perfectly stark, white gabardine of her own design, and over it she had worn a soft mauve cashmere tunic, with the amethyst-and-diamond earrings she had once lent to Natasha.

Do you like it? It's new.

Same collection as my blue marvel? Isabella nodded as Natasha leaned toward her to confess, I turned up the air conditioning the other day just so I could wear it around the house.

Don't worry. It'll be cold enough for it soon. Isabella shuddered, already thinking of the long New York winter that would seem to go on forever.

You look beautiful, Natasha said. Still there was a glimmer of something very lonely in her friend's deep, onyx eyes. I'm glad it's over, Isabella. She was immediately sorry she had said it, because in some ways she knew it was not. It would never be. The loss of Amadeo would always weigh on Isabella's heart.

I can't believe that it's been a year. Isabella looked up from her coffee then, a wistful look in her eyes. In some ways it seems as though he's been gone forever. In other ways it seems only yesterday. But it's easier for me here than it was in Rome.

You made the right decision.

Isabella smiled again. Time will tell.

They chatted on for another hour, and then they each went home, Natasha to what now seemed to her like an empty apartment, and Isabella to her new penthouse. She undressed quietly, put on her nightgown, went to kiss Alessandro, already sound asleep in his bed, and peacefully slipped into her own bed and turned off the light. It was six o'clock the next morning when she was awakened, startled, by the sound of the phone.

h.e.l.lo?

Ciao, Bellezza.

Bernardo! Do you know what time it is? I was sleeping. Are you bored already? Bernardo had left for Corfu shortly after her own return to New York.

Bored? Sei pazza. You're crazy. I love it His voice sobered quickly. Isabella, darling ' I had to call. I have to go to Rome.

Already? She laughed at him. Going back to work already? That was quick.

No, it's not that. There was a pause as Bernardo steeled himself to tell her. He wished he were there with her, not thousands of miles away on an island, staring helplessly at his telephone. I got a call yesterday. I waited till they called me back this morning, until they were sure.

Who, for chrissake? She sat up and yawned sleepily. It was Sat.u.r.day and she had wanted to sleep till noon. You're not making sense.

They got them, Isabella.

Who got what? She was frowning now, and her blood froze suddenly as she understood. The kidnappers?

All of them. There were three. One of them talked too much. It's all over, Isabella. It's all over, cara.

Listening to him, she was suddenly crying and shaking her head. It was over last year, she said. She didn't know if she was happy or sad now. It didn't make any difference anymore. Amadeo was gone. And catching the men who had killed him would not bring him back.

We have to go to Rome. The police called me back this morning. They've gotten special permission to speed it up. The trial will be in three weeks.

I'm not going. She stopped crying. Her face was deathly white.

You have to, Isabella. You have to. They need your testimony.

Nardo ' no! Non posso. Non posso! I can't.

Yes, you can. I'll be there with you.