To Love Again Part 10

Chapter FOURTEEN.

Wrapped in a blue velvet robe with a tall mandarin collar, Isabella wandered sleepily into the hall. It was very early. A wintery dawn sun cast shimmering daggers across the skysc.r.a.pers of New York. She stood at the living room window for a moment, thinking of the city that lay at her feet -a city that drew the successful, the dynamic, the fiercely compet.i.tive, and those destined to win. A city for people like Natasha and she had to admit, for herself. But it was not the city Isabella would have chosen; it lacked the decadence, the laughter, and sheer charm of Rome. Yet it had something else; it shone brightly like a river of diamonds, and she watched as it seemed to beckon to her.

She walked softly into the kitchen, opened the cupboards, and found the makings of what Natasha called coffee. It was not what she would have served at home. But once she had made it, it was pungent and familiar and reminded her of their life together twelve years before. Scents always did that for her one fragrance, a distant aroma, and she could see again all that she had long ago seen: a room, a friend, a moment, a date with a long-forgotten man. But this was no time for dreaming. She glanced at the kitchen clock and knew that her day had begun. It was six thirty in the morning. And six hours later than that in Rome. With luck she would catch Bernardo in his office before lunch, staggering under the weight of what lay on his shoulders now. She took the cup of coffee to her pretty little office and smiled to herself as she switched on a light. Natasha, sweet Natasha. How kind she was. How much she had done. But the tenderness in her eyes rapidly faded as she prepared for the business at hand.

As the operator put through the connection to Italy, Isabella unzipped one of her two overstuffed bags, pulled out a thick pad and two brightly colored pens. She had just enough time to sit down and take another sip of her coffee as the receptionist at San Gregorio answered the phone.

The operator asked for Bernardo, as nervously Isabella began to tap the soft carpet with the tips of her well-polished toenails. She was careful to keep silent so the girl at San Gregorio wouldn't have a clue as to the ident.i.ty of the caller. She had time for only one hasty doodle, and then he was on the line.

Yes?

Ciao, bravo. It's me. Bravo ' roughly translated: good guy, patient one. More than anyone the name suited him.

It went well?

Perfectly.

How do you feel?

Tired. A little. Still a little in shock, I suppose. I don't think I realized till I got here just what it all means. You're just lucky I was too tired to get on the next plane for home. She felt a wave of homesickness overwhelm her and suddenly she wanted to reach out to him.

You're lucky. I'd have given you h.e.l.l and sent you right back. His voice sounded grave, but Isabella laughed.

You probably would have. Anyway we're stuck with it now, this madness we've concocted. We'll just have to make the best of it for as long as I'm here. Now tell me, what happened? Everything smooth over there?

I just sent you a clipping from Il Messaggero. Everything has gone according to plan. You are now in residence, as reported, in our penthouse suite.

And everyone else?

Mamma Teresa took it badly at first, but I think now she understands. She thought you should have taken her with you. But she seems resigned. How's the baby? The baby ' she and Amadeo hadn't called him that in two years.

Delighted. Perfectly happy. In spite of the fact that we didn't get to Africa. They both laughed again, and Isabella was grateful that years before they'd installed a special line. It was used only by Isabella, Amadeo, and Bernardo, and now it would guarantee them freedom. There were no extensions where anyone could listen from anywhere in the house. Anyway now tell me. What's cooking? Phone calls? Messages? New orders? Any last-minute problems with the summer line? It was to be unveiled soon. It was a h.e.l.l of a time for Isabella to disappear.

Nothing drastic has happened, except with the red fabric you ordered from Hong Kong.

What about it? Her toes tensed as they played with the phone line snaking beneath her desk on the floor. They told me last week there was no problem.

They lied to you. They can't deliver.

What? Her voice would have carried throughout the apartment, except that she had had the foresight to close the door. Tell those b.a.s.t.a.r.ds they can't do that. I won't buy from them again. Oh, Christ ' no, never mind. I'll call them dammit, I can't. It's thirteen hours later than here. But I can call them in twelve hours. I'll call them tonight.

You'd better work out some alternates. Isn't there anything we can use here in Rome?

Nothing. Unless we use the purple from last season instead of the red.

Will that work?

I'll have to talk to Gabriela. I don't know. I'll have to see how that fits with the rest of the line.

She knew instantly that it would create a whole different look for them. She had wanted a summer of primary colors this year. Bright shining blues, sunny yellows, the Hong Kong red, and plenty of white. If they used the purple, she'd need greens, oranges, maybe some of the yellow, only a little red. It changes the whole balance, she said.

Yes. But can it be done?

She wanted to scream at him, Yes, but not from here! What I'd like to know is how you can tell me nothing drastic has happened? The Hong Kong red is drastic.

Why don't you replace it with something from the States?

They didn't have anything I wanted. Never mind. I'll work it out later. What else? Any other happy little tidbits for me?

Only one.

They're not delivering the pale green?

They already did. No, this is good news.

For a change. But despite the sarcasm in her voice, Isabella's face had come alive. She didn't know how she'd do it, how she'd manage to make major fabric and color changes in so little time, from so far away, but it brought her back to San Gregorio as she spoke to him. No matter where she was, she still had her business, and if she had to move mountains, she'd make the changes on time. So what's the good news?

F-B bought enough of the perfume to float the sixth fleet.

That's nice.

Don't get so excited. Bernardo sounded like himself again. Tired, angry, annoyed.

I won't. I'm sick of those b.a.s.t.a.r.ds and their offers to buy us out. And don't bother me with that bulls.h.i.t while I'm here.

I won't. What do you want me to tell Gabriela? The chief designer was going to get ulcers when she heard the news. Changes? What changes? How can we make changes now?

Tell her to stop everything till I call back.

That means when?

In September, darling. I'm on vacation, remember? What the h.e.l.l do you think it means? I told you, I'll call Hong Kong tonight. And I'll work out alternates today. I know every color, every piece of fabric we have in stock. And Bernardo knew only too well that she did.

I a.s.sume this will affect ready-to-wear too.

Not as much.

But just enough. His ulcer gave a familiar twinge. All right, all right. I'll tell her to hold it. But for G.o.d's sake, call me back. The old irritation was back between them again. Insanely, it felt familiar and good.

I'll call you after I talk to Hong Kong. About one o'clock. She said it matter of factly, already scribbling a river of tiny well-organized notes. What does my mail look like?

There's nothing much.

Good. Amadeo's secretary was answering all her mail from the top floor. I'll talk to you tonight. Call me if anything happens today. But at his end Bernardo knew he would not. He could save it all till that night.

You'll have plenty to keep you busy.

Mmm ' hmm ' I will. He knew her well enough to know that she had already covered two sheets of her pad.Ciao.

They hung up as though they were both seated in their respective offices at opposite ends of the same floor, and in her brand new office Isabella tore off her notes and spread them out before her. She had exactly twelve hours to replace that Hong Kong red. Of course there was always the chance that she could badger them into sending it, if they had it, if they could. But she knew she couldn't risk depending on them. Not anymore. She made another hasty note to herself for Bernardo. She wanted to cancel the account in Hong Kong. She had seen better fabrics in Bangkok anyway. In what concerned San Gregorio, Isabella was not one to be understanding or to be pushed around.

You're up bright and early.

Isabella looked up in surprise as Natasha's tousled blond head poked through the door. What happened to the days when you used to sleep till noon?

Jason. I had to learn to work in the daytime and sleep at night. Tell me something, do you always look like this at seven o'clock in the morning? She was staring admiringly at the pale blue velvet dressing gown.

Only when I go to work. She grinned at her friend and pointed at the notes on the desk. I just talked to Bernardo.

How goes it in Rome?

Terrific, except I have to redo half the summer collection before I call him back tonight.

Sounds like my rewrites. Jesus. Before you get started, can I fix you some eggs?

Isabella shook her head. I've got to do some work on this before I eat. What about the boys? Are they up yet?

Are you kidding? Listen' . She put her finger to her lips, and they both smiled as they heard a distant shriek. Hattie's getting Jason dressed for school. She looked gently at Isabella, walked into the room, and sat down. What are we going to do about Alessandro? Do you want him to stay home?

I I don't know' . The clouds returned to her dark eyes as she frowned back at Natasha. I had planned to, but ' I don't know. I'm not sure what to do.

Has anyone realized yet that you've left Rome?

No. Bernardo says it went perfectly. According to Il Messaggero, I have taken refuge at the top of the house.

Then there's no reason why anyone would suspect who he is. Do you suppose you could convince him not to tell anyone his last name? He could go to school with Jason and say he's our cousin from Milan. Alessandro' . She thought a moment. What about your grandfather's name?

Parel?

Parelli! Natasha grinned at her creation. I spend half my life making up names. Every time I start a new novel, I start staring at the labels on anything at hand and I must have every name-the-baby book ever made. Well, how about it? Alessandro Pareli, our cousin from Milan?

And what about me? Isabella was amused by her inventive friend.

Mrs. Parelli, of course. Just give me the word and I'll call the school. As a matter of fact ' She looked pensive. I'll call Corbett and ask him if he has time to take them on his way to work.

Wouldn't that be something of an imposition? Isabella looked concerned, but Natasha shook her head.

If it were, I'd do it myself. But he loves doing things like that. He's always helping me with Jason. She looked away for a moment, lost in her own thoughts. He has this thing about being helpful ' about people who need him. Isabella watched her, wondering if Natasha needed him enough. She seemed so independent. She would have smiled to know that it was the same thought that always crossed Corbett's mind.

Well, if he wouldn't mind very much, it would be lovely. That way they wouldn't see me at the school.

That's what I was thinking. She gnawed at a pencil. I'll call him. And she disappeared before Isabella could say more. But since she had met him on the way in from the airport, Isabella had been wondering what lay between the silver-haired man and her old friend. It seemed a nice relationship, and the understanding between them was something that Isabella watched with envy now. But how serious were they? From Natasha, she knew she would gain no insight, not until she was ready to talk.

Natasha went to call Corbett and returned to say he'd be there shortly. The boys were up and tearing about.

My G.o.d, will he be able to stand it? Isabella winced and Natasha grinned.

You will know how truly crazy the man is when I tell you that he'll love it. Even at this hour of the day.

Obviously a m.a.s.o.c.h.i.s.t. But Isabella was smiling as she searched Natasha's eyes, but there was no answer there.

Natasha looked at her sympathetically in the kitchen as she made toast.

Can you sleep today?

Are you kidding? Isabella looked at her, horrified, and they both suddenly laughed. What about your work?

You'll hear me pounding away in half an hour. But not she grinned at her impishly in anything quite as fancy as that.

Isabella laughed. Natasha, she knew, possessed a uniform for working jeans, sweat shirts, and woolen argyle socks. Suddenly Isabella realized she could do the same. She was suddenly invisible, nonexistent, unknown.

All right, Mrs. Parelli from Milan, I'll go call the school. Natasha disappeared and Isabella went back to find her son.

She found him in the bedroom playing with Ashley, a big smile on his face.

What are you so happy about? She swept him into her arms with a kiss.

Jason has to go to school today. I'm staying home with his train. But Isabella plopped him back on his bed.

Guess what? You're going to school too.

I am? He stared at her in dismay. I can't play with the train?

Sure you can. When you come home. Wouldn't it be more fan to go to school with Jason than to stay here alone all day while I work?

He thought about it for a minute and c.o.c.ked his head to one side. n.o.body will talk to me. And I can't talk to them.

If you go to school with Jason, pretty soon you'll be able to talk to everyone, and a lot quicker than if you sit here speaking Italian to me. What do you think?

He nodded his head thoughtfully. Will it be very hard?

No different from your school in Rome.

We get to play all the time? He looked at her delightedly, and she smiled.

Is that all you used to do?

No, we had to do letters too.

How awful. His expression said that he agreed. Do you want to go? She wasn't sure what she'd do with him if he said no.

Okay. I'll try it. And if I don't like it, we can both quit. Jason can stay home with me.

Aunt Natasha will love that. And listen, I have something to tell you.

What?