Surprised by Love (8 page)

Nonna
interrupted her.  “That mouthful is for strangers.  Why don’t you
call me Nonna
,
same as Sandro does?”

Connie’s
beautiful lips parted in surprise.  “I’ll be honoured—if you permit
it—thank you.”  She glanced from Alessandro to his grandmama.  “If
you would like some privacy for a chat, I shall be glad to…”

“No,
Connie, you stay right here,” said Nonna
.
“I want to get to know
you.  Tell me something about yourself?”

As
Connie tried to gather her thoughts—
what would interest Nonna?—
she heard
Alessandro’s deep, caressing baritone say, “Nonna
—
let me.  Connie
came highly recommended by two very good friends of mine.  Moreover, I
knew she had been the PA to a Greek friend of mine, who was deeply upset when
Connie  got married and her husband reneged on his promise, given before
the wedding, that she could continue to work for Leandros.”  When he saw
Nonna glance in dismayed sympathy at Connie, he went on. 

 “He
reneged on other promises as well, but worst of all, after his violent death in
a traffic accident, Connie discovered that he had been living bigamously with
another woman.”

 “And
that stopped your mourning instantly, I would guess,” said Nonna
.

“You
poor child, so much unhappiness and suffering in so young a life.”  She
turned to Alessandro.  “Make sure that she is happy now that she is with
you.”

He
merely nodded, hoping that Connie wouldn’t pick up on Nonna’s assumption that
there was more than business between them. 
On the other hand—Connie is
very bright…  Strange, she didn’t correct Nonna.  Maybe she thinks
that’s up to me?  No way.  I’m going to let it be.

****

They
sat chatting for half an hour, then they heard a commotion at the
entrance—family members arriving.  Alessandro put one arm around Nonna’s
shoulders, and the other around Connie’s small waist.  “Let’s welcome the
family,” he said.

Chapter
7.

After
everybody had greeted everybody else, and they were supplied with the drinks of
their choice, both Gina and Marisa made spirited attempts to get into the
dining room—most likely to play havoc with the seating arrangement.

Nìccolo
was more than a match for them.  He simply kept the doors locked. 
Only Gina dared ask him, “Please open my son’s dining room to me, I want to
check the seating.”

 “The
Signor Conte
forbids it.  I am to unlock the doors when the
Signor
Conte
leads the party in to dinner. 
Mi scusi, Signora Contessa
vedova.”

Gina
was annoyed at being called the dowager countess, but she let it pass. 
Surely she was the contessa until Alessandro married—and that would be
 some time in the future, going by the way he had reacted to her
candidates…  That damn Nìccolo was just trying to upset her…

When
Gina joined the party in the big drawing room again, Marisa was just slipping
out.  “Got nowhere?” she sneered to Gina.  “I’ll bribe that s.o.b.
Nìccolo, and change the seating to suit me.”

 “If
you are trying to put yourself next to cousin Vittorio Savona, you’re wasting
your time,” Gina said waspishly.  “He likes quiet, beautiful,
young
women—you
misfire on all counts.”

 “Don’t
get your hopes up for one of those little beasts that you’re trying to foist on
your son.  He’s too smart for that fake pure act, and so is Vittorio.”

Gina
shrugged her shoulders regally and started a conversation with a distant
cousin.  Inadvertently, Marisa had given her a great idea.  If she
couldn’t get Alessandro interested in one of her friends’ daughters, maybe
Vittorio—who was notorious for liking very young women—could be
persuaded?  Maybe that million Euros could still be hers. 

Alessandro
went over to his mother.  “How are you feeling, Mamà?” he asked. 
“Have you finally got over that influenza?”

Gina
shrugged a shoulder.  “As if you cared.  Sending that avvocato to me
with a legal document, threatening to stop my money if I do anything to offend
you.  Since when is it an offence for a mother to worry about her bachelor
son’s choice in women, and doing her best to introduce him to some young women
of impeccable blood lines and family background?”

Alessandro
sighed. 
I should’ve seen this coming. 
“Mamà, I asked you
repeatedly not to wish these idiotic teenagers on me.  When I decide to
marry, I will choose a woman, not a child!  And the choice will be mine,
not yours.  Why were you so all-fired keen to force these silly girls on
me?  Did their mothers promise you a lot of money if you succeeded in
getting me to marry one of them?”

This
being exactly why she had pushed so hard, Gina tried to take refuge in
indignation.  “As if I would do that to you, my own son!”

Alessandro
laughed.  “Come on now, Mamà—we’ve known each other a long time.  You
wouldn’t have been so relentless unless there was a financial advantage in it
for you.”  He put an arm around her elegant shoulders and hugged
her.  “Never mind, I forgive you.  Just stop doing that, all
right?”           

 “I
didn’t
do
anything, Alessandro.  I’m just concerned.  I’m your
mother, and you’re thirty-two and showing no inclination to get married…can you
blame me for worrying?”

Alessandro
grinned.  “Well yes, actually I can—when your worry takes the shape of
all-out matchmaking.”  He glanced around to see whether anyone was
listening to their conversation, but no one seemed interested in them. 
Good.  “Mamà—were you in a bit of a bind financially, and one of these
women offered you money?”

When
his mother gave the tiniest nod, he said, “Why didn’t you tell me?  I’ll
get Giulio to deal with whatever you owe around town, and then you can order
these women to keep their stupid teenage daughters well away from me.”

Astonished,
Gina managed to stammer, “You’d do that for me, Sandrino?”

He
was touched to hear her use the diminutive abbreviation of his name, as she had
done when he was a little boy.

 “You’re
my mother, aren’t you?”  He glanced around, glad to see that Connie was
talking to Nonna
.

****

When
Alessandro and his guests approached the dining room, many were amused to see
Marisa arguing furiously with Nìccolo—and getting nowhere.

 “Hold
the
Signora
back until her dinner partner,
Signor
Amedeo Agnelli,
is ready to enter,” Alessandro said to Nìccolo, who permitted himself a tiny
smile.

 “Of
course,
Signor Conte,”
he said.

After
a minimum of fuss, everyone was seated at Alessandro’s table—in the order he
had decided.

Marisa
was still fuming at having been bested by Alessandro’s major-domo.  If
she’d had a few moments with this damn table, she’d have put herself beside
Vittorio Savona.  Rich, quite good-looking, flirtatious, with an eye for
the ladies—he was just what she needed to be able to break away from her damn
husband, Roberto.  And look where that bitch working for Alessandro had
put her!  Beside Amedeo, middle-aged, still quite handsome, but limping
from a traffic accident.  And there was no money there. 

Damnazione! 
I’ll make Alessandro regret he let that bitch arrange the table.  I’ll ask
a few pointed questions about her alleged virtue.

Bending
as far forward as she could, Marisa said, a little too loudly, “You were
introduced as Constance Sherwood.  Is that your
alias?
 I
believe you are the widow of Robert Griffiths—who was ready to divorce you when
he had that accident.  Lucky for you, he died.  Saved you a lot of
humiliation in the divorce court…”

Before
Connie could say a word, Alessandro stood up, glaring down the table at
Marisa.  “Constance’s legal name is Constance Sherwood.”  He glanced
at Connie with a soft smile.  “In any case, what does it matter, her name
will soon be changed to
Contessa
di Montedalcino.”

Marisa
gasped, turning an unlovely shade of pasty white.  Excited babble broke
out along the entire table.  Alessandro held up his hand.  “Yes, I
proposed to Connie, and am delighted to say that she accepted my proposal of
marriage.”  He grinned around the table. “Our engagement happened this
afternoon, so I haven’t had time yet to have my jeweler present a selection of
engagement rings for Connie to choose from.”   He explained, “That is
the custom in America and England.”  He smiled, raising his champagne
glass to Connie.  “Nonna
,
Mamà, dear relatives—my bride, the future
Contessa
di Montedalcino.”

Nonna
was very pleased, he could see that at a glance.  His mother was puzzled,
but she remained quiet, Alessandro was glad to see.  He decided to
 arrange for her to send her bills to Giulio.  She was his mother,
after all, and shouldn’t have to worry about money—even if she spent it like
the proverbial drunken sailor.  He could afford it.

 “Kiss!
Kiss!” called some of the younger relatives.

    
Alessandro bent to Connie, lifting her out of her chair, and embracing
her.  “Please play along,” he whispered against her mouth, and kissed
her. 

 “I
am so happy that you have found this delightful young woman to be your wife,
Sandro,” said Nonna
,
her voice trembling.  She got out of her
chair, ducked behind Alessandro and—when he released Connie after their
kiss—she hugged Connie warmly.  “Welcome to the family, my dear.”

 “Yes,
welcome to the family,” said Uncle Armando and Roberto, speaking practically in
unison.  Gina and Aunt Sofia added their voices to the welcome.

Marisa
said, her voice scathing, “Any particular reason for the unseemly haste of this
announcement?”

Roberto
rose and walked over to Marisa’s chair.  “Hold your vicious tongue, you
faithless, miserable slut.  You are excused from this table, and I order
you from my life.  Maybe your father will let you live with him. 
Brindisi is a busy seaport with lots of sailors and tourists.  That should
keep you busy at what you do best—slutting around.  Let me make it clear
that you are
persona non grata
with the Montedalcino family.”

He
took Marisa by the arm and, with a mumbled apology to Amedeo, forced her to
stand up, and began marching her out of the dining room.  She began to
scream—Roberto clapped his hand over her mouth, and dragged her to the
door.  Alessandro signaled to his security personnel, standing discreetly
in alcoves around the dining room.  Quickly they went to Roberto’s aid.

After
a little while, Roberto returned.  “I beg everyone’s forgiveness, but this
time I felt Marisa had to be stopped.  We have all been too lenient with
her for far too long—me most of all.  Let there be an end to her.” 
He took his place beside Sofia, who patted his arm in sympathy. The entire
family turned to Roberto protectively. “You can count on us,” was the most
often voiced remark.

Alessandro
was grateful for the diversion, which gave him time to whisper to Connie, “I’ll
explain when the guests have gone.”

Connie
made sure she was smiling, and whispered, “What’s to explain?  You did
what you did to protect me and my good name from Marisa’s slurs.  Thank
you.”  Dropping her voice even lower, she barely whispered, “Had you
thought that Nonna will be very upset when you break our engagement?”

 “Later,
please?” he whispered back.  Leaning over toward Roberto, on Connie’s
other side, he said quietly, “I’ll tell Giulio Castellano to expect a call from
you regarding your divorce.  This will be a family expense, ridding you of
that…”

 “Hard
to find the right name for her in polite language, right?” Roberto
grinned.  “Thank you for Giulio.”

****

Later,
when the dinner guests were leaving, Alessandro and Connie received Nonna’s
hugs and good wishes for their engagement and forthcoming wedding.  Gina
quietly gave her good wishes.  The other guests were more enthusiastic in
their wishes for the bridal couple.

At
last, they were alone, and took the elevator to the penthouse.  Alessandro
led Connie to the small drawing room, seating her on one of the sofas, and
sitting down beside her.

“I
owe you an explanation and apology for what I said at the dinner…”

 “No,
you don’t,” said Connie decisively.  “I offered to help you in any way I
could, and in fact what you said was because of Marisa’s digging around in my
private life, hoping to find something scurrilous which would cause you to
throw me out in the street…”  She frowned lightly.  “The only thing
that worries me deeply is how will Nonna
receive the news, when you tell
her you’ve ended the engagement?   She’ll be heartbroken,
Alessandro.”

Alessandro
gazed at her for a few moments.  Taking the biggest gamble of his life, he
said quietly, “She needn’t be, Connie—if we were to make this engagement the
real thing, and you married me in due course?”