Page 26 of That's Amore

But before I could investigate further, I found out why she wasn’t happy.

“Please join me in applauding Elysa Giordano,” Cristina concluded.

For a moment, I thought I’d misheard. Elysa?MyElysa? The woman who claimed she didn’t belong in my world, who hated events like this, had helped organize it?

The crowd erupted in applause as Cristina gestured for my wife to stand. Elysa hesitated, shaking her head slightly, but Cristina waved her up with a warm smile. Reluctantly, Elysa stood and bowed and then sat right back down, her movements graceful despite the apparent unease in her posture.

“Today, it’s been a month since we lost Dante Giordano.” She looked at me then with kindness in her eyes. “He was a true friend, and through him I met Elysa. I will forever be grateful to him for the work he did to help our charitable efforts and for giving us Elysa.”

My chest tightened. Nonno’s friends had become Elysa’s friends. Who had I introduced her to from my world? She’d met my friends, yes, and she met my colleagues and my leadership team, which included Lucia, but she’d not gotten close to any of them because I hadn’t made the effort. Nonno had.

Cristina wasn’t finished. “I’m so happy that Dante’s legacy continues to inspire us all. To Nonno, and to Elysa.”

The applause was thunderous, and I moved my hand away from hers to clap. She wasn’t looking at anyone, just her lap. I knew she didn’t like attention and shied away from it—but as she nodded when Susanna complimented her, I saw the faintest trace of pride beneath her discomfort.

I realized then, to my chagrin, that Cristina andRenzo hadn’t invited Elysa tonight as my wife—but I was here asherhusband.

I wasn’t sure what unsettled me more—the fact that I hadn’t known or the fact that it seemed Elysa hadn’t felt the need to tell me about her accomplishments.

NINE

Elysa

“Bella mia, you are a sight for sore eyes.” Luca Carrera hugged me and kissed both my cheeks. Not air kisses.

I met Luca a few months ago when I was working with his mother, and we became friendly. He was a handsome man and only a few years older than me. He’d just started working on an MBA at Bocconi University in Milan. He had an easy charm about him. He was sweet and kind, with the ability to make the person he was with feel like they were the most interesting one he’d ever met. He was nothing like Dante even though he too was raised in a wealthy family.

I wasn’t attracted to him—like, at all—but I liked him very much. Talking to him was comfortable, like catching up with an old friend you didn’t realize you missed until you were with them.

Why couldn’t I fall in love with a man like Luca?My life would be so much easier. Oh, no, I had to fall in with the surly Dante. Was it the ten-year age difference between us? Or was it as simple as the fact that Dante didn’t want me? I suspected it was the latter.

“Mammais very impressed with you and keeps singing your praises, as doesPapa. You’ve made quite a mark with them, and that’s not an easy task. I should know.” He smiled with genuine affection.

“It was nothing.” I felt self-conscious. I didn’t like being in the limelight, and Cristina, despite me begging her not to, had done precisely what she wanted, as she always did. “How is the MBA program?”

“Grueling,” he confessed. “Feel like a walk? The gardens here are spectacular.”

“I’d like that.” He offered me his arm, and I tucked my hand into it.

We’d just stepped onto the terrace when I heard Dante. “Elysa, I want you to meet someone.”

He did? Why? He never had before.

Both Luca and I turned, and I saw him look at my hand. I felt guilty but fought it. Lucia did more than this in front of me, and he wanted her to be his wife. Luca was just a friend.

Luca patted my hand. “Ah, Dante, so nice to see you. I was just telling your wife that she’s swept my parents off their feet.”

“Sounds like she might have swept you a little off your feet, too,” Dante remarked almost caustically.He wasneverrude, always polite. It surprised me how acrid his tone was.

Not wanting to cause a scene, I slid my hand out of Luca’s grasp and moved to stand sideways so I was between the two men.

“You wanted me to meet someone?” I quickly said, trying to deflect his attention from Luca.

“Ah, yes.” But he made no move to take me inside the ballroom. Instead, he tucked his hands in his pockets. “How are you doing, Luca?”

“I’m good, Dante.” Luca was raised by loving parents, and the evidence of that was how he wasn’t cowed by Dante, a man older and more experienced than him, condescending him.

Luca’s self-esteem and confidence were never in short supply, and I admired how he stood up to Dante.

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