“Is what you’re writing about a secret?”
When Pia’s face lit up, I turned to see Tara walking back to the table.
“Not secret,” I said. “Just not necessarily very interesting.”
“What is that?” Tara asked.
“Mr. Knox is a journalist. Surprising, I know. Because he is such un uomo forte. But anyway, he’s writing about Italy.”
Tara took in my body much like Pia had, not that I minded her eyes on me. “Broad subject matter.”
“Yes, but as I said, my assignment isn’t all that intriguing.”
“Maybe you should find something more compelling to write about. Say, wine perhaps? Valentini’s wines would make an excellent subject.” Tara winked.
Pia leaned forward and put her elbows on the table. “Catarina, how do you know so much about our wine?”
She hesitated and her cheeks flushed. “It’s been one of my favorites for some time.”
“Do you remember where you first tasted it?”
“With some friends.”
“I see.” Pia was tapping her cheek with her finger.
“What?”
“It isn’t just our wine you know a lot about.”
Tara laughed. “Are you suggesting I drink too much wine?”
Pia laughed too, as did I.
“No, but I think you know more about Valentini wine than the others who work in the tasting room.”
“I doubt that,” Tara murmured.
“How long will you be in Italy?”
“I’m not certain. Indefinitely…for now.”
While I appreciated the answers Pia was getting out of Tara without it seeming like an interrogation, I could see her growing increasingly uncomfortable.
“What will you be doing?” Pia continued her line of questioning.
Tara looked between her and me and bit her bottom lip. “I really don’t know. Perhaps—”
Pia held up her hand. “I have a crazy idea,” she said, getting up from the table. “I think you should work for us.”
Tara’s eyes opened wide. “What?”
“Sì.”
“You can’t be serious.”
Pia sat back down and folded her arms. “I am very serious. You can stay here at Valentini too. We have many casinas you can choose from.”
Tara looked at me and then back at Pia. “I would love that,” she murmured, almost too softly to be heard.