to allow us to live in one of the wings here.”
“But I thought the castle had been in the family for nearly a hundred years?”
“It had.” Theresa paused, lips pursed a moment as she chose her words. “My husband experienced a reversal of fortune fifteen years ago. We lost everything, including this place. Vittorio dropped out of university to take a job to help us out. He worked very, very hard. There were a lot of problems and a lot of debt. But six years ago he was able to buy the castle back, along with that beautiful villa in Bellagio.”
Jillian glanced around the sunlight-dappled terrace with the pots of white roses and lavender wisteria. “I had no idea.”
Theresa shrugged. “Vittorio would never tell you something like that. He never takes credit for any of the good things he does—and he does many. But that’s how his father is, too. My husband, Salvatore, never thinks of himself. His family has always come first.”
“It sounds as if you’ve had a good marriage.”
For the first time since meeting her Theresa genuinely smiled. “I couldn’t live without him.” And on that note, she got to her feet and headed back into the house.
Jillian spent some time with Joe, and then when he went down for his morning nap, she met with the first of the three fashion designers.
One of the designers was a woman, the other two were men, and all three were so excessively polite that Jillian wondered what they’d been told by Vittorio.
Each designer took measurements. Two asked her questions about what she’d like in a bridal gown, while the third, one of the men, said he had the perfect design in mind and he’d show her later once he’d completed the sketch.
While the three designers retreated to various wings of the castle, Jillian was summoned to the castle’s large modern kitchen finished in white marble and commercial-grade stainless steel appliances, to meet with a famous pastry chef from New York flown out just to make the wedding cake. The chef had brought samples of six different cake flavors, along with various icings and fillings.
Jillian sampled bite after bite and narrowed the selection down to three—white chocolate cake with a raspberry filling, a butter cake with lemon cream, and chocolate cake with chocolate mousse—but then didn’t want to make the final decision without input from Vittorio. But he’d gone out for the day.
The chef suggested they use all three combinations with each layer of the cake being unique. Jillian agreed and left it to the chef to come up with the overall design.
“Traditional, unusual, colorful, classic, architectural?” the chef asked, trying to swiftly understand Jillian’s personal style and vision for the wedding.
“I don’t know,” she confessed. “I hadn’t planned on a big wedding, but it’s turning out to be quite formal, so I suppose the cake should be classic. Elegant. Vittorio is very sophisticated. He has tremendous style. I think the cake should at least reflect that.”
The pastry chef scribbled some notes, showed Jillian a book of photographs showing elaborately decorated cakes in all kinds of colors, shapes and tiers. They were all beautiful, Jillian told him, and she’d be happy with any of them.
While Jillian was still poring over the photo album, Theresa entered the castle’s spacious kitchen to let Jillian know the florist was waiting in the dining room to discuss flowers for the wedding and dinner.
Jillian, who’d felt so unsure of herself during the cake tasting, felt far more comfortable talking with the florist. She’d worked with many florists over the years during her career in the hospitality industry and with a little guidance from the florist, quickly chose a theme of fragrant white gardenias, creamy white roses, contrasted by the silver-gray stems of lamb’s ear for softness and texture. The florist suggested weaving in some delicate silver beads for a hint of sheen in the table arrangements, and then for Jillian’s bouquet, the florist thought the long stems should be tied with a pale silver satin ribbon for a little extra sophistication.
Jillian loved the idea, and could suddenly see the wedding she wanted—charcoal, black and ivory colors—with lots of candlelight and glamour.
Jillian dragged the florist back to the kitchen where the pastry chef had just finished packing up his dishes and samples and photo albums. She introduced the florist to the chef so they could compare notes, which was perfect since Theresa appeared to announce that the designers were ready to meet with her and she needed