“Arie, my darling, what are you talking about? Why would you have to lose me?”
Rome’s voice cut through the thick, gray fog of her tears. When she felt his arm curve around her shoulder she turned her face and pressed it into his chest, her body shaking with her sobs. “I can’t…” she gasped. “I can’t have you, not when I’ve changed everything. Now I have the baby.” She hiccupped on the last word. She was trying so hard to be calm, trying to tell him everything so he could know what she was going through, but she was failing miserably.
“Hush.”
Her face pressed against the softness of his shirt, the warmth of his body soothing her frazzled nerves, Arie felt Rome’s hands on her hair. Gently, he stroked until her shaking stilled and she settled into his arms.
“Look at me, Arie.” His voice was gentle but firm. His caress stilled then he put a finger under her chin and lifted her face to his. “I love you, Arie, and if this baby is important to you then she’s important to me, too.”
Arie sucked in her breath as she stared up at him. “What are you saying?” Dared she hope?
“I’m saying, don’t think you can back out of this wedding, little Miss Angelis. I’m not letting you go so don’t think you can use this as an excuse.” He was smiling down at her as he gazed into her eyes.
“You mean…I can keep her? And you, too?” She held her breath, waiting for his reply. What he’d said sounded like he was leaning toward a ‘yes’ but it was too good to be true.
Rome laughed. “If it will make you happy, I’m all for a readymade family.”
And then he pulled her back into his arms and squeezed her tight. “Arie Angelis, I love you.”
And those last three words, so simple yet so powerful, were all Arie needed to hear. From here on she would have two wonderful people to love and, as far as she was concerned, she could not have been more blessed.
***
“Good morning.”
At the sound of his greeting Iyana looked away from the computer screen and glanced up at Rome. Her brows raised, she gave him a look of suspicion. “You’re in a good mood today,” she said, cocking her head to one side, her dark eyes roaming his face. “A real good mood. Why?”
Rome shook his head then shrugged. “What? A man can’t smile in the morning?”
She gave a snort. “A man can smile, just not this man. This early in the morning you’re always as sore as a bear.”
“Who, me? Where did you get that impression?” Rome gave her an innocent smile.
“Let’s not go there,” she said coolly. “Just tell me what’s changed, to put you into such a mellow mood.”
Rome just shrugged.
“So you’re Mr. Pleasant today,” Iyana said, folding her arms across her chest. “I don’t like it.”
That made Rome laugh. “All right, Miss Grumpy. I’ll try to keep it down.” Still laughing, he walked away from Iyana’s door, leaving her to stew in the mystery of his change of mood.
It was a fact. He was in an unusually cheerful mood today and he knew why. To his relief, Arie was not backing out of the wedding. Within months she would be his wife and at the ceremony they would have the most beautiful flower girl of all, even though someone would have to carry the tiny tyke down the aisle.
When he got to his office Rome deposited his computer bag on top of the desk and picked up the yellow pad on which Iyana had scribbled some messages. There was a message from the Asia division, a reminder about their annual sales meeting. There was one from the PR agency that had handled the Australia launch and one from his father. The last one took priority over all others.
Dropping into his chair, he reached for the phone and dialed. It took a few rings but his father eventually answered, his big voice booming into the phone. “Mio figlio, why don’t you answer your cell phone? I called three times this morning.”
“Sorry, Papa. I put it on silent and forgot. I’ll fix that right now before I miss any more calls.” As he spoke, he reached into his breast pocket and pulled out the phone.
“Too late,” his father said. “Maria dropped by for a visit and she wanted to say hi to you. Of course, we couldn’t find you.” The last sentence was said with a hint of reprimand.
“Maria?” Rome was racking his brain, trying to figure out who the visitor was. His father was speaking as if he should know. “Somebody from Cerveteri?”
“Shame on you, Rome. Don’t you remember your cousin, Maria? She’s the one who used to tease you when you couldn’t read as well as she could. Remember?”
“Oh, that Maria. Yeah, I remember her.” Not that he wanted to. He’d been six and she’d been eight and she’d been a royal pain in the posterior, a snooty little know-it-all who went out of her way to show how smart she was. She made it a point to traumatize him with her intelligence. No wonder he’d blocked her from his memory. “I haven’t spoken to her in years. What did she want?”
“I told you, she wanted to say hi.”
“Why?”
“Now, Rome, let’s be gentlemanly. Maria is your cousin. She’s family.” Again, there was that reprimand in his voice, but then he chuckled. “All right, I admit it. There was another reason she came by.”
“She won the Nobel Prize for literature?” Rome asked drily.
“Not quite, but something like that. She wanted to be the one to give us the news. She won the Pulitzer Prize in fiction and is moving to the States to focus on her writing career. Says if you’re serious about your writing, New York is the place to be.”
Rome gave a grunt. He knew it. She’d only dropped by to gloat. But then he shrugged. If that was what made her happy…
Then a thought came to him. “Hey, isn’t the Pulitzer Prize restricted to Americans?”
“Maria is American.”
“No, she’s not. She grew up in Viterbo. In fact, Tio Giovanni still lives there.”
“Yes, but she was born in Hartford, where her parents were living while her mother studied at Yale. I thought you knew that.”
“I had no idea,” Rome said. “Born on the Yale campus, was she? Now I know why she’s such a brain. It must be something in the air.”
Vittorio laughed. “Or in the genes. Her mother’s a neuroscientist, after all.”
“Yeah,” Rome conceded with a sigh. “That, too.”