These Tangled Vines(37)

It was nearly eleven when Matteo pushed back his chair to say good night. Caterina began to clear the table, and Lillian stood to help. She and Caterina spent some time in the kitchen tidying up, until Caterina ushered her out because she had an early-morning shift at the hotel reception desk.

When Lillian returned to the candlelit arbor, Anton was standing and saying good night to Francesco, who turned and said good night to Lillian before entering the villa.

“Does he live here?” she asked.

“He has an apartment on the ground floor.”

“And the Guardinis?” she asked, curious.

“They live in a smaller villa on the property.” He turned and pointed in a southerly direction. “It’s just down the hill, about a five-minute walk. It’s surrounded by wild roses and fig trees.”

“That sounds charming,” Lillian replied.

“It is. And they have three very friendly cats.”

His description made her wish she could see the place for herself, but it was long past time for her to say good night, so she looked away. “I should probably be going.”

Anton removed his hands from his pockets. “I’ll walk you back.”

“Thank you, but it’s not necessary. I can find my way.”

“I’m sure you can, but it’s a beautiful night, and I could use a bit of exercise after two helpings of Caterina’s chocolate dessert. Indulge me, if you will.”

She laughed. “All right.”

Lillian waited while he went into the kitchen to fetch a flashlight, then followed him down the stone path and around the side of the villa to the driveway and main gate. He opened it with the keypad, and they passed through. It closed automatically behind them.

“Thank you so much for dinner,” she said. “The food was incredible.”

“It’s the least I could do after being so heavy handed in the tasting room. Do you feel better now?”

“Much better. Although I didn’t feel bad before. I felt quite good, actually. I was just hungry.”

He smiled and looked down at the ground as he walked. “I hope your husband won’t feel left out when you get home. He’d be welcome to join us tomorrow or any other night.”

“I appreciate that. But it’s not as if we didn’t try to invite him. I let the phone ring forever.”

They walked at a leisurely pace down the dirt lane between two rows of Italian cypresses. Not a single breath of wind moved the humid summer air, and Lillian marveled at the pine-scented tranquility of the Tuscan countryside.

“Earlier today,” she said, “when I asked why you preferred Italy to London, you told me it was a long story, and you suggested we open a few bottles of wine before we talked about it. But at dinner, you brushed it off. You said you liked it here because Tuscans have more fun.” She glanced up at him. “But I feel like there must be more to it than that.”

His footsteps were steady as they walked along the lane, guided by the long beam of the flashlight he held in his hand.

“Yes, there’s more. You’re very intuitive. How much time do we have?” His voice held a touch of humor, and a twinkle of moonlight caught his eye.

“As much as we need.”

As soon as the words passed her lips, she felt a little apprehensive. What would Freddie think if he knew she was walking in the moonlight with her handsome, wealthy boss after drinking wine with him for hours, and that she was asking him questions about his private life? Telling him they had all night to talk?

A soft breeze whispered through the cypresses. Lillian looked up at the starlit sky and pushed thoughts of Freddie from her mind. That’s what he did when he was working. He pushed her from the room and from his mind. Go away, he said, without ever actually speaking the words.

“It’s a rather sordid tale,” Anton said. “The truth is . . . I only go back to London to visit my mother and sister, and I plan it when my brother’s not there.”

“Oh dear,” Lillian said. “What happened between you and your brother?”

“Where do I even begin?” Anton exhaled heavily. “At the beginning, I suppose. My brother and I built a company together. We were equal partners, but when it became more profitable than either of us ever imagined it would, he took advantage of a situation when I had to step back from the daily operations. I was sick for a while.”

“Oh. What was wrong?”

“Non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma.”

“I’m so sorry. That must have been awful. Are you okay now?”

“Yes, I’m a lucky survivor, fully recovered. But during that year, my brother pretended to be looking out for my best interests. I couldn’t work, so he offered to buy out my half of the business so that I could focus on my recovery and pay medical bills. It seemed like a fair offer. It was a lot of money, more than I ever dreamed the company could be worth, and I honestly thought he was being overly generous, propping me up when I was at my lowest, so I took the money. As soon as the contract was signed and I no longer had any ownership or authority, he sold the company for ten times the amount he paid me. I found out later that he had been brokering the deal for months while I was sick. He knew what it was really worth when he made the offer to get me out of the picture.”

Lillian slowly shook her head. “That was a terrible thing to do. You must have felt very betrayed.”