Surprised by Love (13 page)

Connie
nodded.  “When we left, Tom asked me to let them know when we were due
back.  One guess, we’ll be having dinner at Tom and Jeff’s.”

Alessandro
smiled.  “Good.  I have a request to make of Tom.”

Connie
gazed at him, but did not ask.  He nodded to himself.  Connie sure
was different from other women.

Tom’s
booming baritone greeted the travelers.  “Welcome home, you two!  You
are having dinner tonight
chez
Tom
et
Jeff.  No weaseling
out accepted.”

Alessandro
smiled.  “Why on earth would you think we’d want to weasel out of having
dinner with our two favourite friends?  I’m only too glad to have a chance
to talk to you—in fact, I have a favour to ask, Tom.”

“Granted
before it’s asked,” said Tom grandly.  “Now tell me what it is you want to
ask of me.”

“When
we’re sipping drinks in your small reception room, Tom.”

Connie
said, “It means you’ll have to wait a little while.  We’d like to go home
and freshen up after the flight.  As soon as we’re presentable we’ll come
over to you.”

“Oh
no, you don’t,” Tom objected.  “When you’re starkers in that sybaritic
bathroom, you’ll think of other things you could be doing, and my dinner will take
a poor second place.  You’ll arrive, looking very relaxed, around
9:30.  No way!  I’m sending Jeff for you in the Bentley one hour from
now, which is…” 

“Synchronize
watches, troops,” Jeff admonished.

“Silence,
darling lad.  An hour from now is just gone 4 o’clock.”

“How
about coming for us around 6, Jeff?  We have a few things to catch up
with—“ Alessandro suggested.

“I
can just imagine what you’ll want to catch up to…” Tom boomed.

Jeff
smiled.  “Never mind the Exalted One.  Great idea, 6 o’clock it is. 
And now let’s drive you two home.”

Chapter 12.

Jeff
picked Alessandro and Connie up and delivered them to Tom, who demanded to know
instantly, “Now what did you want to ask me?” 

Alessandro
smiled.  “We want to go through a civil marriage ceremony here, and later
on, when we’re back in Italy, we’ll have a formal church wedding there. 
And I’ve heard how many weddings you’ve officiated at, and wondered if you had
any suggestions?”

Tom
beamed.  “Only one, and that is that you leave everything to me. 
I’ll get in touch with Marcella Mellis, and she’ll do the bit about getting a
judge to perform the ceremony.  The rest is easy as pie—I’ll do Father of
the Bride for Connie, and you’ll have to have a witness.  Jeff can be your
best man.  The reception and subsequent dinner party you can leave
confidently in my hands.”

Alessandro
was overcome by the speed with which Tom had taken over.  “Tom, I merely
hoped you could advise me—I didn’t mean to shove everything on your shoulders…”

“Well,
you should have.  I am unrivalled in organizing weddings, I’ll have you
know.  Any date by which you want this done?”

“Do
you mean, we can pick the time?  Well, Nonna is coming to stay with
us.  You can imagine that Connie would have to start sleeping over in that
condo Marcella has bought for her.  And I don’t like that one bit. 
So I thought, if we could get married in a civil ceremony before Nonna even
gets here, we can continue in our usual way…”

“I
understand perfectly.  And Nonna is coming…when?”

“I
told her I’d send my plane for her in about two weeks’ time.  Can you and
Marcella work with that?”

Tom
grinned.  “Trust me.  All will be done within your time frame.” 
He gave his friends a broad smile.  “And now that we have a forthcoming
wedding to celebrate, what do you say I stop pretending to make
mojitos,
and
instead the darling lad will unearth some vintage
Krug.
”

“A
great idea, Tom.  Connie prefers wine to cocktails anyway.  Thank
you.”

“Darling
lad…  Where is Jeff?”

“I
think he anticipated your request and is getting the wine.”

Shortly
afterwards, Alessandro’s remark proved to be correct.  Jeff came in with
an ice bucket holding a bottle of Tom’s best
Krug—
Charlene hot on his
heels with a tray of crystal flutes. 

Alessandro
was glad he and Connie had had a nap that afternoon—in spite of what Tom
alleged they had been doing.  It had put them back to Florida time, and
they could enjoy the wine and Tom’s exceptional dinner without fighting sleep.

****

Marcella
phoned a few days later.  Judge Macmillan could perform the marriage
ceremony for them at 4:30 on the following Friday—in ten days. 

When
Alessandro called at the gallery to tell Tom, he was taken aback when Tom asked,
“Give me a list of your friends—I realize relatives won’t be forthcoming—and
ask Connie to do the same for me.”

Alessandro
said, “Tom, I have very few friends here, I’ve made some 
acquaintances—largely people I’ve met at your gallery.  I’m friends with
Lee Melissinos, and Lorenzo Monferrato, that’s about it.  I know that
Connie is friends with Marcella, but I don’t know who else.  I’ll ask her
to call you.”

“Hmm,”
said Tom, clearly not best pleased.  “Our partner, Cristiano d’Este, will
be here.  Usually he takes care of the Palm Beach branch, which gives his
wife a chance to spend some time at her boutique there.”  Tom
frowned.  “Let’s see what we got:  Leandros and Rachel, Lorenzo and
Lissa, Marcella and Mac, Cristiano and Sophia, Jeff and I…  Alessandro,
you’ve got to do better than that!  I want you to have an enjoyable
reception, which means at least a dozen couples…”

“If
you want me to fly some relatives in, you’d like my uncles Roberto and Armando,
and my aunt Sophia, Armando’s wife.  Roberto is divorcing his.  I
could ask Nonna to come with them—that’s five more.  Mind you, Nonna tells
me she is getting too old for parties, she finds them tiring.” 

“I’ll
make sure she will not be tired.  And by the way, we’ll have her stay with
us.  We have an elevator, although we ourselves never use it.  But I
can see that someone of your Nonna’s age will need the elevator.”  Tom
grinned lasciviously.  “She will not want to clutter up the scenery for
her honeymooning grandson…?  If she stays with us, you wouldn’t have to
make any changes in your night-time habits.”

“Tom,
are you sure?  We won’t have a honeymoon—that’ll be after the church
wedding in Italy.  But I’d love to have a little time alone with Connie
after we are married.”

“What
are you going to do different?”  Tom was in his element, sexual teasing
being his specialty. 

Alessandro
grinned.  “Probably nothing.  But our life will be a bit stricter,
more formalized, once Nonna moves in with us.  Mind you, I’m glad to have
her here—her doctor believes that her health will improve just by being with
me.”

“’ll
have Charlene press some of her nieces into service, one of them is apprenticed
to a hairdresser, that might be…”

“I’ll
fly Nonna’s
cameriera
in as well.  Olivia is a nice girl and Nonna
is used to her.  But if you could have someone stand by to do Nonna’s
personal laundry, ironing, that would be great.  She’ll probably like it
so well at your house that she’ll come to my place under protest.”

“A
likely story.  But we are at least on the way to getting a respectable
number of reception guests.”

****

Alessandro
phoned his uncle Roberto, who promised to mastermind the Italian side of the
flight to Ocean Breeze, including Nonna—once Alessandro had phoned her to
explain the reason for the slightly advanced trip to Florida.

Nonna
was even happier about the civil marriage than Alessandro had dared to
hope.  On being told that she could leave everything to Roberto, she
smiled.  “He can begin by getting a passport for my
cameriera.”

****

With
Roberto’s help, everything fell into place perfectly, and the Tuesday before
the wedding, the Italian contingent—as Tom said—arrived in Ocean Breeze.
 Tom and Jeff were there with the Bentley, to take Nonna and her
cameriera
to their house.  Alessandro was there with his limousine to take his
uncles and aunt to suites in the 5-star Castellón Hotel. 

As
he was talking to his Nonna, Tom interrupted.  “Everybody is invited to my
house.  Drinks at 6, dinner a bit early to accommodate your jet-lag, at
7:30.”  He turned to Alessandro’s uncles and aunt.  “Have a nap when
you get to the hotel, and you’ll find it easier to join the Florida time
zone.  And we’ll make sure your Nonna rests too, don’t fret, Alessandro.”

 ****

Tom
considered it impolite to drive into his garage and have Nonna enter his house
through the kitchen.  Jeff frowned.  “There are six treads to the
platform before our door.  Nonna won’t be able to…”

Tom
raised his eyes to the sky.  “Of course Nonna can’t, darling lad. 
You are elected to carry her in your arms up those steps.”

Jeff
nodded, pleased with Tom’s decision.  And so was Nonna, judging by the way
she put her arms around Jeff’s neck, smiling at her carrier.

It
occurred to Tom that Nonna might be surprised that his household staff was
Jamaican.  In Italy, she was used to having Italians.

“I
should explain that a lot of people here prefer to have household staff from
the Islands, or of Afro-American descent.”

Nonna
nodded, as Jeff set her down by the elevator.  “Yes, Alessandro explained
it to me.  Where is your household staff from?”

“Charlene
and her nieces are Jamaican,” Tom said.  “They are looking forward to
spoiling you rotten,
Contessa. 
I beg your pardon if, in getting
everybody organized into Alessandro’s limo, Jeff or I called you Nonna. 
No disrespect was intended.”

Nonna’s
small thin hand made a fist and playfully hit Tom’s shoulder.

“I
know that, Tom and Jeff.  Please do call me Nonna.  I’ll feel more at
home…”  She glanced about her.  “Where is Olivia, my
cameriera?”

Jeff
said, “Charlene carried her off to the kitchen.  They won’t let her do any
work until she catches up to our time-zone.  Meanwhile, Charlene has three
 nieces appointed to be of service to you.  They’ll probably feed
Olivia and then urge her to go to sleep.  By tomorrow, she’ll be
acclimatized.”

Tom
added, “The yellow suite, which you will occupy, has a small side-room where
Olivia can sleep if you wish it.  If you prefer solitude, let me know and
Charlene will find another bedroom nearby for Olivia.”

“No,
no, thank you, Tom.  Having Olivia close by is a comfort to me.”

****

Tom
and Jeff’s get-acquainted dinner was a great success, the excited talk
returning time and again to Friday’s civil wedding—to be followed by a church
wedding in Italy next time Alessandro and Connie were there.  Everybody
was taken with Tom and Jeff, and Armando suggested, “When Alessandro and Connie
fly to Italy for the church wedding, I suggest you two join them.”

Alessandro
said, “I thought that was a given, Tom and Jeff.  That’s why I didn’t
invite you formally.  Connie and I couldn’t imagine getting married in
church without you two being present—for one thing, Tom will have to be the
Father of the Bride.”

Tom
preened.  “I’ll be equal to the occasion, never fear, dear boy.”

When
Roberto noticed that Connie was in conversation with Nonna, he said to
Alessandro, keeping his voice low, “That pushy little
contessa,
Bracciano,
I believe?”

Alessandro
nodded, unable to guess what on earth was coming.

Roberto
went on, “She had the gall to be at the airport, demanding a lift to
Florida—she had been invited by you, and you wanted her to fly in your
plane.  She was making such a nuisance of herself that the captain called
me over.”  Roberto grinned.  “I thought this so unlikely that I
categorically refused to have her on board.  When she adamantly dug her
heels in, refusing to leave, I called airport security and left them to deal
with that little bitch. 
Dio mio,
she was persistent.”

Alessandro
frowned.  “I have never even had the briefest fling with her, but she
keeps on telling anyone who’ll listen that she is my actual fiancée—I have to
marry the proper bloodlines, and she has them in spades…”  Alessandro
raised a slim, black brow.  “Not so as you’d notice—not on her mother’s
side.  She was the last mistress of
Conte
Bracciano, who died
without legal issue, and the mother pushed Paola forward as the count’s
only
heir.  Paola started calling herself the
contessa
Bracciano. 
True, she is of Bracciano’s blood, but she’s illegitimate.  Anyway, why on
earth she has zeroed in on me…”