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“Yeah. She dragged me over here because Ineeded a break,but she’s busy working on her next collection.” I smile. “Typical Maddie.”
Cora’s eyes widen. “Wait…Maddie Kane is your sister?”
“You’ve heard of her?”
“Yeah. My best friend…Marie. She loves fashion, and she’s obsessed with your sister. Marie made me follow her on Instagram. Her clothes are lovely.”
I feel a rush of pride. Maddie and I, we’ve come a long way. “I’ll tell her you said that. Understandably, I’m not her target market. I don’t wear her designs. I don’t think I’d look very sexy in a dress.”
Cora giggles. “You probably would, though.”
I meet her gaze, and she smiles. I smile back. The world suddenly feels brighter and more beautiful.
I could do this every day with her.
“We’re here.” She inclines her head toward a restaurant with a large outdoor area. We select a table and a waiter comes to take our order. It’s cool and noisy, but not in a bad way. I scan the street, enjoying the scenery before turning back to Cora. She’s so beautiful, it takes my breath away.
From speakers I can’t see, the soft tones of an Italian love long pour out to blend with the other evening sounds.
I’ve had a dream of a perfect day…
The waiter brings our wine. Cora sips hers, then looks up to catch me staring. “Are you going to tell me what you’re thinking while you’re looking at me?” she asks.
I chuckle and shake my head. “Why art? Why Florence?”
A few seconds pass in silence. A hint of a shadow crosses her features. “Why art? My father was a fine arts professor and historian. He used to take me to galleries and museums even before I could walk.”
“Was?”
“He died when I was sixteen.” Her eyes mist with remembered pain. “Heart attack.”
“I’m sorry.” I reach across the table and pat her hand. I was a little younger than that when my dad died and Maddie had to step in to take care of me, and though I might not understand the loss of a loving father—mine was a different type of dad—I can imagine some of the pain.
“It was a long time ago.” Cora shrugs and there’s something reassuring in the smile she sends my way. “Florence because…I don’t know…the history of passionate artists and powerful noblemen, and the proud women who loved them…It’s romantic.”
I lean back and study her face. “You have a thing for romance?”
“Doesn’t everyone?” She laughs softly. “My mother used to write historical romance novels. Pirates and noblemen and lost princes. She was a successful author. Her books still sell a lot, so apparently, people can’t get enough.”
I almost don’t ask. “Was?”
She nods. “Last year. Cancer. It’s part of why I needed a change of scene.”
I want to pull her into my arms and comfort her. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” After a brief silence, she gives me a self-conscious grin. “Anyway...romance is in my bloodstream.” She peers at me from under lowered lashes. “Now is when you tell me you don’t believe in love and all that.”
“I do…I think...I just don’t...” I’m not sure what to say. That I don’t think it’s for me? Then I’d have to explain why.
It’s always been easy to explain. There’s no opening in my life for anything or anyone apart from the work I’ve mapped out for my future.
As soon as I return to San Francisco, these weeks in Italy would be little more than a dream. I have a company to build...a product to perfect and promote.
There has never been and will never be time for me to explore things like love, or relationships, not unless I’m willing to trap someone in a dynamic where she’d only get the husk that remains after I give all my time to my work.
That fact has never bothered me the way it bothers me now, and I can’t bring myself to tell her that for me to spend time with any woman, she has to be unimportant to me.
I’ve only known Cora for a day, but I don’t ever want her to be unimportant to me.
