“I have no intention of keeping her hidden away,” Luca assured them. “But I am sure Sophia wants to settle in before meeting a lot of people.”
“No, you must introduce her right away,” Isabella insisted. “Or people will wonder why you waited. They will be shocked, like me, to find you are married. They will think it is not a proper marriage.”
“It is a very proper marriage,” Luca replied. He took a large swallow of his drink. His knuckles showed white where he gripped the stem of the glass.
“Luca, imagine the party your mother will insist you have when she finds out. If you tell her you have already had a party, then it will not be so bad. I am saving you, caro.” Isabella smiled at everyone, smug satisfaction written across her face.
Luca seemed to think over the plan, glancing at Sophia as if to gauge her reaction. Without knowing her place in his life, she was unsure how forcefully to protest. She didn’t want to start her marriage coming across as a diva.
“I don’t have anything to wear,” she interjected as Luca made no further comment. It was the only thing she could think of to stop this party idea. The last thing she needed was to be inspected by Luca’s friends and acquaintances and found wanting—especially compared to Isabella.
“Ah, that is a little thing.” Isabella dismissed her concern with a wave of a hand. “We can go shopping for a dress … and shoes,” she said, glancing at Sophia’s well-worn footwear. “You are working tomorrow, yes, Luca? Or are you a changed man now that you are married? Staying at home on a Saturday to be with your wife?”
“I do have to make some site visits tomorrow. But I was going to take Sophia with me so she can see some of the country.”
“Dai, there is plenty of time for her to see the dusty roads and broken buildings you will show her. I am sure you can spare her for a day. Shopping is much more fun.”
“I don’t speak Italian. I won’t be able to talk with anyone.” She had to derail this party train before it crushed her.
“Most of our friends speak some English,” Isabella said, blocking off that avenue of escape. “Perhaps your rescuer could come as well.” She smiled at Jonathan, luring him into her web.
Jonathan sat there with a bemused expression on his face. “I am not sure I’d really fit in,” he replied, pointing at his tattered jeans.
“Oh, please come,” Sophia pleaded. If she was going to have to endure this party, it would be nice to have someone there for her.
Jonathan shrugged. “Alright then, I’ll come. I must be off now, though. I have to unload my truck before dark.”
“I will show you out,” Luca responded, a hint of a smile showing on his face at last.
• • •
Luca returned and stopped at the entrance to the terrace, allowing himself a moment to enjoy Sophia unobserved. She hadn’t gotten publicly upset when Isabella put her arm through his, although he’d noticed that she’d narrowed her eyes. Sophia hadn’t liked it. Which also made his heart a little lighter. Surely it indicated she felt something for him. He thought they’d been getting closer during their London phone calls, but it all seemed to have disappeared after they’d arrived yesterday.
Oh, she’d played the part of loving wife at the wedding ceremony. But instead of relief that she’d be able to fool his mother and friends, he’d been a little let down that it was all an act.
Sophia rose and put the empty glasses back on the drinks tray and wiped up the few wet spots on the glass-top table. Isabella had her head to one side, watching his wife.
“So, Sophia, how did you meet Luca? He has only been to London once in the past month.”
Sophia hesitated, twirling her wedding ring. He hadn’t seen her nervous often, but she definitely looked uncomfortable. What the hell was Isabella playing at? She was supposed to help ease Sophia’s transition, not make her want to go back to London.
He stepped onto the terrace and moved beside his wife, putting his arm around her waist. Only the stiffness in her body stopped him from kissing her so fully, Isabella would walk out the door and forget her whole stupid party idea.
“Basta, Isabella, enough. Your husband must be wondering where you are.” If he thought knowing that Isabella was married would ease Sophia’s mind, he was mistaken. His wife pulled out of his arms and straightened the cushions on the chairs.
Isabella’s eyes darted between them before she let out an annoying laugh. “You are right. Dante does worry. And, I still have some last-minute things to sort out for tomorrow,” she said, rising from her chair. “It is okay that I take your car home, Luca? I will come and pick you up at ten tomorrow morning, Sophia, for our shopping. Ciao.” She strolled toward the door, not waiting for a response.
Sophia finished straightening the chairs and resumed her seat. She stared at her wine before taking a sip and then gazed toward the gardens, in effect dismissing him.
“I am sorry about that. Isabella does not understand the word ‘no.’ She never has. You can come with me on site visits next weekend,” he said, as he sat back in his chair. He wanted to take Sophia’s hand, but she pulled it off the armrest as he reached for it.
“It’s not the site visit I’m upset about. You expect me to go shopping for a party even you don’t want me to attend, with your … your … girlfriend?” Her voice shook and the hand in her lap clenched into a fist.
“Isabella is not my girlfriend, beyond the fact that she is a girl and a friend. We have known each other since school. There is nothing romantic between us. She is married, as am I.”
Sophia snorted but didn’t make any other reply.
“And who is this Jonathan? Do you expect me to believe that you just happened to meet him on your first day in the country?”
“Yes, I expect you to believe that. Because it’s the truth.” She stood and crossed her arms over her chest. He searched her face, trying to decide if she was lying.
“And yet you do not believe me when I say the truth.”
“I guess we’re at an impasse then. I’m hot and dusty from my walk. I’m going to wash up before dinner. Are we eating again at eight?”
“Yes.”
She strode back into the house, not looking back.
He let out a sigh. This wasn’t how today was supposed to have gone. He was supposed to come home, find Sophia waiting, happy to see him. He’d planned a stroll through the village, maybe have an aperitif in the bar by the piazza. Then a walk home, eat an enjoyable meal together, and hopefully, maybe, a kiss or two to make a start on the physical side of their relationship. Instead, he’d come home to find she’d disappeared, then she’d shown up in the truck of a foreign man who she claimed had rescued her. Rescuing her was his job. He was the husband. Had he failed her already?