Part 23 (2/2)

I don't want to see them.

Neither do I. But we owe it to Amadeo. And to ourselves. You can't stay away, Isabella. What if something happens, if they are set free? Can you let this happen to someone else?

At his words the events of a year ago rushed over her again. He had lied to her then, G.o.dd.a.m.n Corbett. It did go on forever. It would never be over. Never! She was crying again into the phone.

Isabella, stop it. It's almost over now.

It isn't.

I promise you, cara. It is. Just this one last thing, and then you can put it behind you forever. The police asked me to call you, they thought it would be less of a shock if you heard it from me, he went on. They don't think the trial will take more than a week. You can stay at the house.

I'm not coming.

His voice was firm now. Yes, Isabella. You are.

When she hung up, she sat in her bed. Seeing visions she had blotted from her mind for the last year of waiting in the living room in her green evening dress, watching the clock on the mantelpiece; of Alessandro and his handful of cookies that night. And then the phone call, the visit to Alfredo Paccioli to sell her jewelry, Amadeo on the phone telling her to be brave. She squeezed her eyes closed, trying not to scream. With a trembling hand, she reached for the phone again, dialed Natasha's number.

By the time a sleepy Natasha answered, Isabella was hysterical.

What? Who is this? Isabella! What's the matter? Darling, talk to me ' Isabella? ' Please ' Natasha said.

They've caught them ' the kidnappers ' and I have to ' go to the trial ' in Rome' .

I'll be right over.

Her face buried in her pillows, Isabella fled the visions and dropped the phone.

Chapter TWENTY-SEVEN.

They drove from the airport straight to the House of San Gregorio, speeding through Rome. It was that miraculous time of the year again, still sunny and warm, yet with cool breezes and blue skies and no clouds. Mid-October. It had once been her favorite time of year. She sat in the car in stony silence, wearing a gray suit and a matching gray hat. Bernardo could barely see her eyes beneath the brim, cast down toward her hands folded tightly in her lap.

It starts tomorrow, Bellezza. You were right to come.

She looked at him tiredly then, and he cringed at the pain he saw so sharply etched in her eyes. I'm tired of doing what's right. What does it matter now?

It matters, bella. Trust me.

She took his hand in hers. After all this time, all the arguments and accusations, she did.

There were a few photographers waiting for her at the door, but Bernardo steered her through, and they pa.s.sed rapidly through the house, to the penthouse, where he set her bags down, and poured them each a gla.s.s of wine.

How was the trip?

It was all right.

And Alessandro?

Mad at me for leaving, but he's fine.

Did you tell him why you were coming?

She nodded slowly. Yes, I did. I wasn't going to, but Natasha said I owed it to him to tell him. So he wouldn't be afraid anymore.

What did he say?

She looked startled. He was happy. But he didn't see why I had to go. Neither do I. She sipped at the wine again and looked at Bernardo, tanned and looking years younger after his month at Corfu.

You did and you know it. What about the office?

Everything's fine. For the first time she smiled at him as she pulled off the gray hat.

What about you? He looked at her sharply.

What's that supposed to mean?

Are you seeing anyone? It's been over a year now. It's time you went out. He had finally come to accept what would never be between them and cherish what they had.

Mind your own G.o.dd.a.m.n business. She looked away at the rooftops of Rome.

Why should I? You don't mind yours. What about Corbett Ewing?

What about him? Her eyes shot back to him, startled. How much do you know about us?

I figured it out eventually. Your violent reaction about F-B, and the way you sounded that day, when I mentioned Ewing to you on the phone. I've never heard you angrier.

She nodded slowly. I have never been so angry. But I thought he'd seduced me on purpose, just to get his hands on San Gregorio.

Is that what you think now?

She shrugged. It doesn't matter anymore. I haven't seen him at all.

Did he seduce you? Bernardo's voice was very soft.

That's none of your business. Then she softened. For a little while I thought we were in love. But I was wrong, that's all. It would never have worked anyway.

Why not?

Because oh, dammit, Bernardo, I don't know. Maybe we're too different. Maybe I'm married to the business now. Besides, it'll never be like it was with Amadeo. And I don't want to break my heart, or anyone else's, finding that out. She looked at him sadly. He shook his head.

So you waste yourself, is that it? At thirty-three you close the door. You lose Amadeo, and you give up.

I haven't given up. I have Alessandro and the business. She stared at him defiantly, but he wasn't buying it.

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