To Love Again (25 page)

You should be a designer, Corbett.

Sometimes I am.

Like with what? Her eyes grew serious as she straightened her head to look at him more closely. He was an interesting man.

Oh, I picked out some designs for an airline once. He was afraid to say much more.

Was it successful?

The airline?

No, the design. Did it look well?

I thought so.

You used your textiles? He nodded, and she seemed to approve.

That was good business. I try to use interchangeable things once in a while between my ready-to-wear and my couture. It's not always easy though because of the fabrics. But I do it when I can.

Where did you learn all this? He was fascinated, and she smiled.

My grandfather. He was a genius. The one and only Jacques-Louis Parel. I watched him, I listened, I learned from him. I always knew I'd be a designer. After I spent a year here, I set up my own design studio in Rome. That was how she had met Amadeo, how it had all begun.

Congenital genius then.

Obviously. With a grin she picked a tiny wild-flower.

And humility too. He put an arm easily around her shoulder and stood up then. How about some lunch?

Can we go somewhere? She looked delighted, but he quickly shook his head.

No. For a moment her eyes fell.

I was stupid to ask.

We'll come back this summer. There's a nice restaurant just over that hill. But in the meantime, Isabella, I made some provisions.

You did?

Of course. You didn't expect me to starve you, did you? I have a little more sense than that. Besides, I get hungry too, you know.

You brought a picnic?

More or less. He held out a hand to her, and she got up from the log, dusting off her black skirt and pulling the black blazer closer around her as they walked back to the car. Corbett drove to a nearby lake, stopped, and unpacked a large leather bag. The picnic consisted of p+ot+!, Brie, French bread and caviar, cookies and pastries and fruits.

She looked at it all delightedly, spread out on the little table he had popped out of a compartment on the back of the front seat. My heavens, this is gorgeous. The only thing missing is the champagne.

He bowed from his seat and looked mischievously at her. You spoke too soon. He opened the bar again and withdrew a large bottle resting in a bucket of ice. He set out two glasses.

You think of everything.

Almost.

She played with Alessandro through a rainy Sunday and was grateful that it hadn't rained the day before. On Monday she worked for fifteen hours, and on Tuesday she spent the day making calls to Hong Kong and Europe, to Brazil, and to Bangkok.

She was in the kitchen in bare feet and blue jeans, sipping coffee, when the doorbell rang. She looked up startled. It was ten minutes too early for it to be the boys. Hattie was marketing, and Natasha had told her she'd be gone all day. With a puzzled look Isabella went to the front door and looked through the tiny peephole and then grinned. It was Corbett, also wearing an old sweater and jeans.

How could you forget something so important? It's firehouse day, of course!

Isabella looked embarrassed. I forgot.

Are the boys here? If not, I'll have to take you. The firehouse will never forgive me if we don't show up. I'll just say you're my niece. His eyes wandered over Isabella appreciatively, suddenly noticing the long thin legs and the narrow hips.

The boys will be home in five minutes, and they'll be thrilled. And how are you?

I'm fine. What are you two up to? Working as usual?

Of course. Isabella looked at him grandly and then beckoned him back toward her office door. Would you like to see the beautiful office Natasha gave me when I arrived? She was like a little girl showing off her room. And he followed her willingly and whistled when he stepped inside. Isn't it lovely?

It certainly is. Her work was spread out on the table, mountains of papers, and the floor was covered with neat stacks of designs. This must take some getting used to. I imagine you have a little more space in Rome.

Just a bit. She smiled to herself, thinking of the enormous offices she and Amadeo had shared on the fourth floor. But I'm managing.

It looks like you are.

At that moment the boys arrived, with whoops at discovering that he was there. Ten minutes later they had left again, with Corbett, and they didn't return for another two hours.

How was it? Isabella was waiting for them when they got home, and they told her in every detail. Alessandro announced to her excitedly that there really was a brass pole, calling it over his shoulder as Hattie finally dragged him off for a bath. And more to the point, she said to Corbett when they were alone, how are you? Exhausted?

A little. But we had a wonderful time.

What a good sport you are. Would you like a drink?

Please. Scotch and water on a lot of rocks.

Very American. She cast him a look of mock disapproval and went to Natasha's white marble bar.

What should I be drinking?

Cinzano, Pernod, or maybe kir.

I'll remember that next time. But frankly, I prefer Scotch. She handed it to him, and he grinned. Where's Natasha?

Dressing for dinner and a gallery opening.

And you, Cinderella?

The usual. I'm going out for my walk.

You're not afraid to do that, Isabella? He looked at her with sudden concern.

I'm very careful. She didn't even stroll back on Madison Avenue anymore. It's not very exciting, but it helps. He nodded.

May I join you tonight?

She answered quickly. Sure.

They waited until he had finished his drink and Natasha had left for the evening before they went out. They covered her usual route and a bit more, jogging part of the way and strolling the rest of the way home. She always felt better once she'd done that. As though her body were crying out for exercise and fresh air. It still wasn't enough, but it was better than nothing.

Now I know how those poor little dogs feel, locked up in apartments all day.

I feel that way in my office sometimes.

Yes. She looked at him reproachfully. But you can get out.

He seemed to be thinking about something then as they returned to the apartment, but the boys set upon them quickly, in their pajamas now, with freshly washed hair, and the moment was lost. Isabella watched him with them for half an hour as they wrestled and played. Corbett seemed to be having a good time. He had a lovely way with children, as he did with everyone. But it pleased her to see the children with him. He was their only man. Hattie finally arrived on the scene though and despite frantic protests took them both off to bed.

Do you want to stay for dinner?

I'd love it.

In the kitchen they ate a cozy dinner that Hattie had left for them to serve themselves fried chicken and corn on the cob and dripped butter over their plates. After dinner they wandered to the back of the house and settled down in Natasha's pleasant little den. Isabella put on some music, and Corbett comfortably stretched his long legs.

I'm awfully glad I went to that benefit last week. Do you know I almost didn't go?

Why not?

I thought I'd be bored. He laughed at the thought of it, and Isabella did too.

Were you?

Hardly. And not for an instant since then.

Neither have I. She smiled at him easily and was surprised when he took her hand.

I'm glad. I'm so sorry for what you've been through.

I wish I could change all that. But he couldn't, and he knew it. Not yet.

Life isn't easy sometimes, but as you said, we always survive.

Some do, some don't. But you're a survivor. So am I.

She nodded, agreeing. I think my grandfather taught me that. No matter what happened, what went wrong, he picked himself up and did something better immediately afterwards. Sometimes it took him a little time to catch his breath, but he always managed to do something spectacular. I admire that.

You're a great deal like him, he said, and she smiled her thanks. Why did he finally sell the business?

He was eighty-three and tired and old. My grandmother was dead, and my mother had no interest in the business. I was the only one left. And I was too young. I couldn't have run Parel then. Though I could now. Sometimes I dream of buying it back and merging it with San Gregorio.

Why haven't you?

Amadeo and Bernardo always insisted that it didn't make sense.

Does it? To you?

Maybe. I haven't totally ruled it out.

Then maybe one day you'll buy it.

Maybe. One thing's for sure: I'll never sell out what I have. She was referring to San Gregorio.

Was there a question of that? He looked away as he asked her.

Not for me. Never. But my director, Bernardo Franco, keeps trying to push in that direction. He's a bloody fool. I'll never sell.

Corbett nodded knowingly. I don't think you should.

One day the business will belong to Alessandro. I owe him that. Again Corbett nodded, and the conversation turned to other things music and travel, the places they had lived as children, and why Corbett had never had a child.

I was afraid I wouldn't have time for one.

And your wife?

I'm not really sure she was the type. In any case she agreed with me, and we never had one, and now it's a little too late.

At forty-two? Don't be absurd. In Italy men much older than you have children all the time.

Then I'll run out and have one immediately. What do I do? Put an ad in the paper?

Isabella smiled at him from the opposite end of the tiny couch. I shouldn't think you'd have to do anything as drastic as that.

He smiled softly. Maybe not. And then, not even knowing how it happened, she saw him draw closer, put his hands on her shoulders. She felt herself drift into his arms. The music was playing in the distance and there was a pounding in her ears as Corbett kissed her and she clung to him as to a life raft in a heavy surf. He kissed her gently and she felt it deeply as she sensed her whole body reach out for him until she pulled away with a little lurch.

Corbett! No! She startled herself but was quickly comforted by the look in his eyes. It was a look of gentle loving from a man she trusted, with whom she felt totally safe. How did that happen? Her eyes were misted with tears of confusion and, perhaps, a touch of joy.

Well, let's see, I slid along the couch here, then I put my hand here' . He was laughing at her kindly, and she couldn't do anything but laugh too.

That was terrible, you shouldn't do that, Amadeo Suddenly she stopped. There was no Amadeo. Quick tears rose to her eyes. But he took her back in his arms and held her close to him as she cried.

No, Isabella, don't. Don't look behind you, darling. Think of what I told you: The pain won't go on forever. This is very, very new.

But he was grateful as he held her that Amadeo had been gone for almost eight months. It was long enough for her to be ready, to at least consider someone else.

But I shouldn't, Corbett. She pulled away from him slowly. I can't.

Why not? If it's not something you want too, then we won't even talk about it again.

It's not that, I like you' .

Is it top soon? We'll go slowly. I promise. I don't want you to be unhappy, not ever again.

She smiled at him gently then. That's a lovely dream. Nothing is forever, remember? Nothing good, and nothing bad.

No, but some things are for a very long time. I would very much like that with you.

Without knowing why she said it, she found herself saying, So would I.

He smiled at her then. They drank brandy, listened to the music, and sat on the floor like children. It was easy to be with him, and she was happy, happier still when he kissed her again. This time she didn't argue, and she didn't want him to stop. Finally he glanced at his watch, looked at her warmly, and stood up.

I think, my darling, it's time for me to go home.

So early? It can't be more than ten o'clock.

He shook his head. It's almost one thirty, and if I don't get out of here now, I'm going to attack you.

Rape? She said it with amusement. She was back in control.

We could start with that. It has a nice ring, don't you think? His blue eyes were twinkling wickedly, and she laughed.

You're impossible.

Maybe, but I'm mad about you. He reached a hand out to her and pulled her up. Do you know that, Isabella? I haven't felt like this for years.

And before that? She was still playing. She was so happy suddenly that she wanted to fly.

Oh, before that I fell in love with a girl named Tillie Erzbaum. She was fourteen and had a fabulous chest.

How old were you?