Page 61 of La Dolce Vita

"You sound American?" he said.

She glanced back over her shoulder with amusement in her smile. "Yes. I am. I've only been here two years."

"Two years?" he repeated. He frowned. Her smile dimmed.

"I've been practicing psychology for over a five-year period. I'm published in several medical journals, and I sit on the--"

"Why did you come to Italy?" he asked.

She stared at him a minute, and then her smile surfaced, and again he was disarmed. He decided to focus on her eyes instead. Her features and manners were familiar. Not from the comparison of his dead adoptive mother, but someone else. He couldn't quite place it.

"My dream was to come to Florence. And when this job presented itself. Well, who passes up on their dream?"

"You're Italian?" Dominic asked. He scanned the degrees she had tacked on the walls, as opposed to looking into her hypnotic eyes.

"My parents are both fromSan Gimignanobut moved to America before they had me. When they moved back, I decided Tuscany should be my home... enough about me. Please have a seat,SignorBattaglia. I have a few questions of my own."

Dominic paused at a few photos of her with her parents, and one with a colossal dog. No husband. His gaze swung back to her. She sat behind her desk and scooted in. She combed her red hair back from her face with her slender hand, and it hit him.Fabiana.

"Something wrong?" Dr. Marchetti asked.

The similarities in beauty and stature were eerily close. Could this be a relative he didn't know about?

"SignorBattaglia?" she said with a hint of alarm in her voice. "Are you okay?"

"Your name is Marchetti?" he asked.

"Yes."

He shrugged off his instinct to shut down the meeting and adjusted his tone. He took a seat. "You remind me of someone."

"Oh?" her eyes became bright with curiosity. "Okay. Well, how about you tell me more about Mirabella Battaglia. We can start there. I read her file; she's refused to take anti-depressants?"

"She's complicated. And there will be no drugs. Ever. Her husband won't allow it. I was told you knew of other ways to help her cope with trauma."

"Of course... the thing is, the one thing missing from the file is background information. I know her medical history, but I can't believe that is the real source of the trauma."

"You know who she is. Right?" Dominic asked.

"I do. Who doesn't? She's the most famous designer in Italy right now. She's been on every news station since the spring event in Milan," she replied. "She's best known for her classic style of wrap around dresses. Women and men go crazy over the style."

"Then you must understand the need for discretion," he said. "We would never give her background history to a stranger. She's a very private person, and this is a very private family matter."

"I understand your concern. But like I said before I don't know what preempted the poisoning..."

"Have you ever seen her partner? The one she started the business with? Fabiana?" he asked.

"Well I... yes, a few pictures on the tele but..."

"You look a lot like her," he said, and the accusation was tight in his voice.

"Oh! It's the red hair. I recently dyed it," she smiled.

"Why?" he frowned.

"A change. Look this will work better if I could meet with her. And can you have her medical files, the ones I haven't received, released to me?"

"You meet with me and then I decide if we go further. Why did you dye your hair a week before this meeting?" he asked again. "Your hair isn't red in the photos I received."

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