Her Italian Soldier

“Annabelle needs more apricot in her cheeks. I want her hair cascading over her left shoulder,” Giovanni ordered, firing directions to the staff until he was pleased with the results. “See how the sun brings out the metallic gleam of those strands, Basilio?” The other man nodded. “With the bay of Naples sparkling in the background, that’s the shot I want! Don’t move!”

Annabelle marveled at the color coordination. A bright yellow Amalfi sports car convertible with creamy leather seats formed the centerpiece. Marcella had dressed her in a three-piece, short-sleeved crisp white suit and creased slacks. The jacket had four pockets trimmed with yellow braid.

The same trim ran up the openings and around the lapels. An enamel sunflower in each earlobe brought the color to her face. White sandals with elaborate crisscrossing straps completed the look.

“Perfetto! Perfetto!” Giovanni cried. “Now I want you to get out and lean against the car with the door still open, your left foot just so. You’re holding this basket of sunflowers while lifting one to admire it. This time your smile holds a secret.”

His directions unknowingly caused her body to break out in goose flesh. Earlier this morning Lucca was supposed to have made breakfast for his father. Right now she was holding her breath, dying to know how it had gone for both men. That was the problem with being a bystander. She was caught up in the lives of another family, yet could do nothing but hope it was a joyous one.

“That’s not the smile I want, signorina. Where did the other one go?”

She fixed it for Giovanni. “I was thinking how hard it’s going to be to leave Italy.”

“Then don’t! I’m sure Basilio will put in a good word for you with Signore Cavezzali if you want to stay. Now give me what I want!”

Annabelle tried her best. When he declared they were through shooting for the day, she was glad to get back to the van to change out of her clothes and remove her makeup. Once she was dressed in a blouse and skirt, she said goodbye to everyone.

Basilio reminded her they were doing the shoot in Ravello tomorrow. Relieved she wouldn’t have to face another long drive in the morning, she got in the car. Before she drove away, she checked to see if there were any messages. Her body quickened when she saw that Lucca had called. She clicked on.

“Papa and I have spent the day together and are out looking at the properties I was telling you about. I’m not sure how soon I’ll be home. Ciao, bellissima.”

It sounded so much better than she’d hoped for.

She started up the engine and pulled out to the main road. Sorrento was sprawled across limestone cliffs where the houses looked like colorful children’s blocks stacked on top of each other. Everything was beautiful along the Sorrentine Peninsula, but the drive was hot, even with the air conditioning on, and seemed to take forever.

As soon as she reached the farmhouse, she dove into work for something to take her mind off of Lucca and put in a wash. No sooner had she done that than she heard a knock on the kitchen door. Maybe it was Fortunato again. She hurried to open it.

“Buon giorno, signorina. I am Cellina Colombari. You met my son the other day.”

Annabelle couldn’t believe the timing. If she’d arrived a half hour later, she could have avoided this meeting. “Yes, of course.” She smiled. “I ate one of the melons he brought

. It was delicious and very kind of you.”

Lucca’s former girlfriend was probably in her mid-thirties. A real Italian beauty with dark blond hair and dark eyes. She must have gotten pregnant with Fortunato at nineteen or twenty.

“Can you stay and visit?”

“If it is all right.”

“I’m through working for the day. Please. Come in.” She went into the living room and Cellina followed. “Won’t you be seated?”

“Thank you.” She chose the rose settee. “When Guilio said you were staying here by yourself, I thought it might get a little lonely. I know I would be if I were living by myself.”

“Since my divorce, I’m used to living alone.”

“That must be very hard for you. It’s so sad. Basilio lost his wife last year,” Cellina informed her.

“So I understand.”

“Do you find him good-looking?”

Annabelle knew where this was leading. Fortunato hadn’t wasted any time. “I think every male in Italy is too attractive for his own good. Don’t you?” She winked at her.

The other woman looked surprised before she unbent and gave a soft laugh. “Yes.”

Cellina might be too curious for her own good, but she didn’t take herself too seriously. Lucca would have liked that about her.

“So tell me about you and your family. I’d like to know a few things about you before I meet everyone at the party Guilio has planned for Saturday.”