I ignore that. She’s always bringing up money, trying to see how much I’m making, even though she’s doing well for herself.
“So, what will you do?” she continues. “Force her on the first plane back home?”
“No,” I say slowly. “I think I need to talk to her.”
“You know you would be doing me a favor if she stayed there.”
“And what makes you think she wants to stay here?” I can see how spending a month at a villa in Tuscany would entice anyone, but when you realize you have to live with a brainy kid and a moody artist … that’s not what she signed up for. “We’ll be a distraction.”
“Well, you’ll have to figure that out. Just, please, if she wants to stay, let her stay. There is so much room there. You’ll barely see her. She’ll keep to herself, you’ll keep to yourself. You spend so much time in your studio anyway.” She mutters that last part under her breath, reminding me once again that my art takes up too much of my time. “And maybe down the line she can even watch Vanni some days. The company would be good for him.”
“All right,” I tell her. “We’ll see.”
“Great. Okay, I have to go, I have an important call in a minute.”
There’s always an important call.
“Okay. Ciao, ciao.”
I hang up the phone and stare at the desk for a moment before I get up.
I have to admit, the idea of someone staying here isn’t that bad of an idea. Grace seems nice, albeit quiet and somewhat shy, though I suppose that’s not strange for her profession. I don’t think she’d get in the way of my work and I don’t see myself getting in the way of hers either. And what Jana didn’t say, but what I know, is that it would be good to have a woman around the house, for Vanni’s sake. He loves his aunts, but I think he’s at the age where he’s getting sick of their cheek-pinching and meddling.
It doesn’t hurt that Grace is easy on the eyes as well.
I only saw her naked for a moment, but the image is seared into my brain, whether I want it there or not. She’s on the short side with soft curves, and this luminescent pale skin, white with a touch of peach, the kind that immediately makes me think of my art, like she’s made of a marble slab before I chip away at it. Pure and timeless and full of potential. Her hair is thick and dark, the color of teak, and her face is rather unusual in a beautiful way. Full upper lip, a gap between her teeth, big blue eyes that don’t hide everything that’s going on behind them.
They’re the eyes of an artist, that much I can see.
I slip my mobile phone into my pocket and open the door, hoping that they didn’t hear any of that. I was yelling at Jana earlier, a bad habit of mine that I’ve tried to lessen for Vanni’s sake. I’m fairly even-keeled, but my temper can get the best of me, especially when it comes to my ex-wife.
But as I enter the living room and see the grim look on Vanni’s face, plus the chagrined expression on Grace’s, I know they at least heard my raised voice.
“Va tutto bene, Papà?” Vanni asks me. Is everything okay?
“Everything is fine,” I tell him. Grace looks so uneasy, her hands constantly smoothing out the bottom of her dress. “I just got off the phone with Jana.”
She gives me a stiff smile. “I figured.”
“She’s very sorry about the mix-up. Sends her apologies.”
Of course, that’s not what she said at all. She was sorry that we came home early and ruined the little writing retreat. But I won’t throw Vanni’s mother under the bus in front of him.
From the way her brows pinch together, she doesn’t look like she believes it either. She may not know Jana that well, but she knows her reputation at least, and Jana isn’t one to apologize for much.
In fact, the more I think about it, the more I realize that the whole reason Jana probably kept me and Vanni a secret from her client isn’t so much that she’s ashamed of us, but that she’s embarrassed. Of herself. I know she loves Vanni a lot, as much as she can, but we did have a short, albeit complicated, marriage, which then led to a divorce. Jana is all