Page 31 of His Two Hidden Masks

“Don’t tell my clients,” Leo said. “I’m having dinner with one of the women from yesterday’s tour, Valerie. She has a ‘farmhouse’ in Virginia and wants me to source art for every room.”

“Let me guess, but first she needs to see how you fit in her bedroom?”

“Oh, you know I don’t sleep with my clients,” Leo said. “I kiss. I snuggle. Who am I to deprive these lonely women of some affection?”

“Aren’t you a generous lover.” I patted his leg. “Let’s walk and talk. I’m ready to tell you about the horrible meeting and the mistake I made last night.”

Leo stood up and helped me to my feet. “By ‘mistake,’ are we talking sex? Please say it’s about sex. You know I’ve been telling you that you need to fuck someone to get over Roberto.”

“What I need has nothing to do with Roberto. It’s done. I don’t want to think about Roberto anymore.”

“Well, you need something to bump out your funk,” Leo said.

“Is that what the kids are calling it these days? Bumping out your funk?”

“If the kids are not calling it that, they should. I think it’s catchy. Bump out your funk.” Leo took out his phone and started typing. “I bet that hashtag has already been thought of.” He bit his lip. “I was right, but that doesn’t mean I can’t tag us. Smile, darling.”

He held his phone up for a selfie. I gave him a smile and a quick kiss on the cheek. “Please don’t post me. I am not ready to share my bumping with the world.”

“Don’t you ever be ashamed of bumping or funking.” Leo held up his phone. “‘Come see me at Lido Glass Factory to satisfy your every artistic need and don’t forget to sample Bella Baci caramels. #bumpoutyourfunk.’ I’d tag you if you weren’t a luddite.”

“You know I am not a technology person.”

“And your self-esteem is probably the better for it,” Leo said, finishing his post. “Let’s go. It’s time for you to walk with me and tell me about every moment of your beautiful mistake. I can tell it’s going to be juicy.”

We stepped outside into the sunlight. It was a crisp, clear, blue-sky day. White puffy clouds floated overhead, and if my breath weren’t freezing in front of me, I would have sworn it was springtime, instead of January.

Tourists crowded the square. Cafe tables ten rows deep lined all sides of the columns in San Marco. Tourists followed guides and couples took selfies. A few people donned Carnival masks, too early for costumes, but soon it would be impossible to walk the streets without running into someone in disguise.

Carnival would slowly progress to total mayhem. The entire city would join in the masquerade and celebrate the changing seasons with a ball at the Doge's Palace.

“I have to ask the obvious question. Did the board vote against your plan?”

“Worse. Papa didn’t even have them vote.”

“Ouch,” Leo said. “Well, you know damn well your business is going to succeed with or without mama and papa’s approval.”

“I want to believe that.”

“Let’s monopolize an overpriced table at Cafe Florian. My treat,” I said.

“I can’t,” said Leo. “I have lunch today with Marianne from Medford.”

“Wait, I thought you were wining and dining Valerie from Vermont today?”

“I am. Valerie wants glass for her estate. Marianne just purchased two enormous chandeliers for her vacation home. Keep up.”

“Whatever happened to Terri from Tucson, or Mabel from Manhattan? And how do you find American women with these insane names?”

“What can I say? I attract symmetry and money.” Leo laughed. “Now spill the tea about your midnight mistake. I am dying.”

“Who said it was after midnight?”

“Everything good happens after midnight,” Leo said. “I’m just glad you are finally figuring it the fuck out.”

“Thank you for helping me today, Amore.” I stopped walking and stood on tiptoes to kiss him on his cheek.

“You know you are the only woman I will ever truly love,” Leo said.

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