Page 40 of Giorgio

“I guess I will stay out of the way.”

“You are invited,” he told her softly.

Her eyes flew to him, and she shook her head.

“Oh no! I couldn’t possibly…”

“It is a masquerade ball Juliana and you are a guest in our home. It would look strange if you were not in attendance.”

She had been hoping that he would say something like he needed her there, but that was wishing for the impossible. As he rightly put it, she was a guest in his home, and he was inviting her out of charity.

“I would rather not.”

“May I ask why?” He sensed her distress and was wondering why she was upset.

“I have a cast on my leg in case you have forgotten. And I don’t need you feeling sorry for me.”

His eyebrows lifted at her injured tone. “Is that what you think?”

“Why else would you be inviting me to a ball where people I don’t know will be here?” She cried. “Just look at this room! It’s massive and I am sure there are going to be several hundred of your closest friends here. What do you expect me to do? Just sit and be uncomfortable? No thank you.”

He started to take her hand, when she jerked away, ignoring that, he clasped it between his. “It was never my intention to make you feel uncomfortable. And you are right, I wasn’t thinking.” He murmured. “I just didn’t want you to be all by yourself while there is a party going on.”

She was slightly mollified. “I wouldn’t know anyone at the party, and I would certainly feel conspicuous with the cast on.”

He nodded. Her fingers were entwined in his and he could feel the warmth of her skin. What was more, it felt right holding her hand like this.

“I don’t… I was never much of a party girl.” She was saying.

“Is that so?”

She nodded. She loved the feel of his fingers against hers and was hoping he would not relinquish her hand.

“I can just imagine this place decorated for a party. Do you hire people to do that sort of thing?”

“Yes. We own an interior design company as well as a few restaurants who will be combining their efforts to make things happen. It’s not just a masquerade ball, but it is geared to making money for various homeless shelters and children’s homes.”

“That’s commendable.”

“Mother was always dabbling in several different charities. She sat on the Board of several foundations.”

“She genuinely cared.”

“She did. During the winter, she would collect meals and rope in her friends to go the homeless shelters to hand them out.”

She tilted her head to look at him. “Is that still being done?”

He realized that he was ashamed to tell her he had no idea. In the past, it had been amusing to see his mother pack up baskets of food to take with her. He had taken his wealth and the fact that he lacked nothing entirely for granted.

“I don’t know.” He finally admitted, searching her face to see if she was disappointed in him.

“We could find out.”

“I suppose we could.” He heard himself agreeing. “Some of her friends are still alive.”

“Good.” She looked around the room, her eyes landing on the piano. “Is that just for show?”

“No. She played as well. Papa tried to give it away several times but couldn’t bear to part with it.”

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