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A heavy silence struck the room, and even I didn’t know what to say.
Charlotte smiled and then nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders, completely unbothered. “Well, I don’t know how it works in America, but in England we value our guests. We would be mortified if they came around and started to do chores for us.”
“Hmmmp.” He came over to me then and said, “I cannot believe you consider a woman like this your friend. I’m going to get myself another glass of Cognac. Anybody else want a drink?”
“Not me,” I said.
“Thanks, but no thanks,” Charlotte sang.
When all the ingredients were prepared, he came back. He put the saucepan on the stove, browned the garlic, dropped the tomatoes and beef in. When the beef was cooked, he poured in the sauce that had apparently been already prepared by someone else and let it simmer.
The water in the big pan was boiling, so I dropped in the fettuccine and in few seconds later, the food was ready.
Fabio waved towards some plates and I put them out on the counter. Then he started dishing out the food onto the plates. “Shall we light some candles and eat on the patio?” he asked.
I shook my head quickly. The last thing I wanted was any kind of romantic atmosphere. “No, let’s eat here. I like it here.”
We took our positions around the island.
Fabio tasted one forkful of his dish and slammed his hand down on the marble. “I told you, Sienna, miracle in your mouth.”
I put the food into my mouth and it was edible, but it was definitely far from the ‘miracle in your mouth’ that he’d been professing it to be. No one in our family dared to tell him his mother was not known for her cooking skills.
He dove at his meal, slurping the fettuccine with the most grating sounds I had ever heard. Perhaps the sounds he made weren’t so bad, but at this point, I felt so irritated by him that even his breathing seemed like that of a bull’s in my ear.
He didn’t bother asking us any questions, but he sure had a lot to say about his recent trip to Milan. He bragged and boasted about everything and made derogatory comments about everyone and to him, none of it seemed rude. From the private jet he had to take because he couldn’t stand the filth of the people on commercial flights, to the exquisite hotel suite he’d insisted was given to him since it was the most expensive available and even that was a dump.
I zoned out, and didn’t even bother pretending to nod my head or smile. Only a fool would not have noticed how uninterested I was in him or his boasting and preening.
Suddenly, he jumped up. “Actually,” he declared. “I’ve brought back something very special that I want to share with you, Sienna.” He headed into another part of the house, presumably his study or something.
Charlotte turned to me and whispered, “I can’t believe he’s still alive. Why hasn’t someone shot him?”
I stopped laughing just as he returned with a bottle of red wine in hand. He had turned the label towards me and I could see it was very, very old.
Chapter 40
Sienna
“I present to you Château Lafite Grand Cru. Aged more than two hundred years, and rumored to have once belonged to Thomas Jefferson. I got this at a secret auction in Milan for three hundred thousand dollars. Believe me these types of bottles are worth every penny. You absolutely need to have a taste of this. I opened it just as you arrived to let it breathe and it is ready for consumption now.” He half-filled his own glass first before he looked at me questioningly.
For once, I was intrigued with what he was talking about, and pushed my glass over to him.
He proceeded to fill my glass.
I noticed he filled it with less than he did his own.
He took a sip from his glass, then kissed his fingertips. “You will be astounded,” he promised. “No offense to our family’s vineyard, but I have never tasted anything as exquisite as this in all of my life.”
Charlotte had also pushed her glass out, but he had pretended not to notice and placed the bottle by his side. Charlotte received the message loud and clear then she just shrugged.
I couldn’t believe the shade he had thrown at her. “Aren’t you going to offer any to Charlotte?” I asked.
He glanced to her, and then to me, and then he sucked in his breath. “I’m sorry but, I have also promised a few of my friends a taste and there is only so much in this bottle.” He turned towards Charlotte. “I can open another bottle of Merlot for you if you like. It is from Sienna’s father’s vineyard and it is one of the best wines in my collection.”
