A Little Holiday Temptation Page 4

  “You’re very good,” the mother said, smiling broadly. “You even captured the mischievous expression in Nikki’s eyes.”

  Julianna laughed. “That’s our Nikki to a T.” She had babysat Nikki on occasion and knew the little girl was a handful.

  Ana, sitting on a straight-backed chair directly in front of Nikki, smiled warmly. “She’s adorable.”

  Finished with Nikki’s portrait, she handed the finished product to Nikki’s mother. Nikki climbed off her chair and spontaneously kissed Ana on the cheek. “Thank you,” she said.

  “Well,” Ana said, laughing softly. “That’s the first time I’ve ever been paid in kisses for my work. Thank you, Nikki.”

  With Nikki’s portrait, Ana had drawn all four children who had attended the party with their parents. Not to be outdone, Teresa asked sweetly, “Would you draw my baby now?”

  Julianna immediately took umbrage with being called a baby. “Mother, I’m not a baby!”

  “You’re my baby, and always will be. Get used to it,” Teresa returned. “Now sit down and let Ana draw you. It’s not every day that you get to have your picture drawn by an artist of her caliber.” She smiled at Ana. “Don’t you dare forget to phone and tell me when and where your show is going to take place.”

  “I won’t,” Ana promised. She met Julianna’s gaze.

  Julianna grinned and sat down. Then she crossed her eyes. “Will this do?”

  Ana laughed. “Sure if that’s how you want to be remembered.”

  Julianna uncrossed her eyes and gave Ana a genuine smile. “You’re sneaky. I like that.”

  The men wandered over and stood admiring the sketch as it formed on Ana’s pad. Leo joked, “Give her horns. I swear she’s a little devil sometimes.”

  Teresa playfully hit Leo on the backside. “If anyone’s a little devil in this family, it’s you.”

  Erik stood back and watched Ana, how easily she was handling being the center of attention even though she insisted she was shy. Whether it was on the runway or in a room full of children, she always seemed comfortable in her own skin to him.

  When Ana finished the portrait Julianna held it in her hands, admiring it. “You even managed to make me pretty,” she said in awe.

  “I just drew what I saw,” Ana said truthfully.

  Teresa took the drawing from Julianna. “This is going in a place of honor.” She bent and kissed Ana on the cheek. “Thank you, Ana.” She had to wipe away a tear.

  Leo, feeling things were getting maudlin, bellowed, “The night’s still young. Who’s up for some virtual golf?”

  The men were all for that, and once again the guests were divided by sex with the men heading downstairs to the finished basement where Leo’s entertainment center was set up.

  Teresa led the women to the kitchen where they indulged in coffee and delicious desserts the caterer had provided for the party. The children were in their own special heaven in the den playing video games.

  Ana sat between two women in their thirties, one African-American, the other a blonde with dark roots who kept gazing at Ana as if she wanted to ask her something but couldn’t muster up the nerve to do so. Ana smiled at her and said, “Your husband is the plant’s manager, right?”

  They’d all introduced themselves earlier. Ana recalled her husband—a tall, heavyset fellow with a ruddy complexion—was very tender with their son who looked about three.

  “Yeah, Ben,” said the woman. “And I’m Sasha.”

  “Your son’s so sweet. I have a niece his age. She lives in Italy. I miss her so much.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Ari…Ariana,” said Ana. “Now she has a baby brother and she’s having a hard time getting used to him. She told her mom to take him back to the hospital and trade him in for a puppy.”

  The other women who had been listening to their conversation laughed.

  “Yes, older kids do sometimes take a while to get used to a new addition,” Teresa said after swallowing a mouthful of pecan pie. “When Julianna was three months old Leo, Jr. once wrapped her in a blanket and left her on a neighbor’s doorstep. Luckily we were living in a close-knit neighborhood at that time, and the neighbors saw him do it and immediately phoned me. He only got away with it because Leo was at work and I was in the shower. Of course when Leo, Jr. got older he absolutely loved his sister and doted on her. Or maybe it was guilt that made him so protective of her later on.” She laughed, remembering her son fondly. “Julianna adored him from birth. She would follow him around like a lost puppy looking for a scrap of food.”

  Ana supposed the woman who went and pulled Teresa into her arms for a firm hug was an old friend. A sympathetic and knowing look passed between them and the woman said, “He adored her. You could see it every time you saw them together.”

  “Yes,” another woman agreed.

  Soon others were relating Leo, Jr. stories. It was obvious to Ana that the employees of Barone Shoes were more than employees to the Barones, they were old friends. It made her feel happy that Leo had decided not to sell the company after all.

  * * *

  On Sunday Ana and Erik got back to the city in the early afternoon. After dropping Ana off at her loft and making plans to meet for dinner later, Erik continued on to his apartment.

  When Erik walked into this apartment, bags in hand, he dropped them in the foyer and walked back to the kitchen to get a bottle of water from the fridge. After drinking quickly he turned and went into the home office. The blinking light of the answering machine on the desk was like a beacon to him. Only his friends and family used his home phone number. Business calls went straight to his cell phone. He liked keeping them separate because on weekends, he ignored the office. He would never, however, ignore his friends and family.

  He listened to the first message. It was his father, John. He began with a tired sigh, so Erik instinctively knew the message would be about his grandmother, Drusilla. No one could get under his father’s skin quite like his grandmother. “Hey, son, your grandmother took another tumble today. She’s so hardheaded. We keep telling her to use her cane but she insists she doesn’t need it every day, just when, and these are her words, ‘I’m feeling wobbly.’” John sighed heavily again. “It’s Friday night and they’re keeping her in the hospital overnight for observation. A fall can be dangerous for an eighty-two-year-old.”

  Let her be all right, Erik prayed as he continued listening.

  “No need to come home, though,” his father said. “She’s fine. It’s my nerves that are frayed.” He laughed. “Thank God for Izzie. She remained calm and handled everything with her usual quiet efficiency.” Izzie was Isobel, Erik’s stepmother. She and his father had been married for three years and still behaved like newlyweds. Erik loved and admired her for how happy she’d made his father, who deserved a little happiness after all the heartache he’d experienced when Mari had left him for a French choreographer.

  He dialed the house in New Haven, Connecticut and waited. Isobel answered with, “Hi, sweetie. I hope John’s message didn’t upset you. Dru’s back home and is doing well. How’re you?”

  Erik smiled. Isobel rarely answered with hello. She anticipated your needs and got right into the conversation. “I’m fine, Mom, and how are you?” Both he and Belana referred to Isobel as “Mom.” They’d known her for years before she and their father had fallen in love and gotten married. She was the mother of one of Belana’s best friends, Elle, and consequently they were part of the same social circle. What’s more, Isobel, as far as Belana and Erik were concerned, had earned the title of “Mom” since she loved them like her own even though they were not related by blood.

  He could hear the smile in her voice when she said, “Just great. We’re all sitting around the kitchen table having lunch. Would you like to speak with your father or Drusilla?”
>
  “Put Her Majesty on, please.”

  When Drusilla got on the phone he could hear her clearing her throat. “Where are you that you can’t come see about your poor old grandmother?”

  “Who would that be?” Erik asked, “Because you are apparently as young and spry as ever! I’m told you don’t think you need to use your cane anymore. Is that right?”

  “It makes me look old and decrepit.”

  “You’re too vain. What would you prefer? To look your age, or break a hip, or worse?” he asked, being careful not to raise his voice.

  “I’d rather look good,” was Drusilla’s petulant reply. “What does it matter if I go out with a broken hip or not? The Grim Reaper has my number. I should have the right to choose how I live the rest of my life. After more than eighty years, I’ve earned it!”

  Erik sighed. She had a point. Eighty-two years on earth should allow her certain privileges. He’d have to guilt her into behaving herself.

  “Yes, you’ve earned the right to flip off the Grim Reaper if you want to. But, while you’re tempting fate, what about the rest of us who would like to have you around a bit longer? What about Dad and Belana? What about those great-grandchildren you’re always urging Belana and me to have? And hurry up about it, too? Shouldn’t they get the honor of having you as a cantankerous great-grandma? What do you say to that?”

  “You should’ve been a lawyer,” Drusilla groused. She laughed. “Okay, I’ll use the damn cane from now on.”

  “Language!” Erik heard his dad admonish his grandmother before bursting into laughter himself. His dad must have taken the phone from his grandmother. “Okay, son, whatever you said seems to have worked. She looks dutifully repentant, for now.”

  Erik couldn’t help laughing. Both he and his father knew it was only a matter of time before Drusilla found another outlet for her indefatigable spirit to get her into trouble.

  “By the way, Dad, Ana and I are dating,” Eric said after he’d gotten his laughter under control.

  With his usual aplomb, John said without missing a beat, “Haven’t you always been dating?”

  “Technically, we were just friends.”

  “Seriously?” said John. “For two years you and Ana have been platonic friends?” He sounded so disbelieving that Erik started laughing again.

  “Yes, seriously,” he assured his father.

  “I know you said you were just friends, but I never imagined that two young, healthy people like you and Ana were actually keeping your hands to yourselves. Son, I was just happy you had someone like Ana in your life. Mother, will you stop that!”

  Drusilla said hastily, “It’s about damn time!” Then she was gone.

  John, sounding exasperated, said, “That’s wonderful news. Now I’ve got to go, your grandmother’s has had too much excitement for one day.”

  Erik hung up the phone and listened to the remaining messages on the machine. None were pressing, so he wandered into this bedroom and began changing his clothes. He felt restless and a long jog would go a long way in relaxing him and focusing his mind. His father’s reaction to the news of him and Ana dating made him wonder if the rest of his family believed the two of them had been more than friends all the time.

  Wasn’t it possible for a man and a woman to be just friends? Surely he’d proven they could. Then again, even if his behavior had been above reproach, his thoughts definitely hadn’t been. Not being able to express his feelings for Ana in a sexual way had made him very resourceful. Running helped, as did staying extremely busy. Now that they’d admitted their feelings for each other, and sex was sure to follow, he hoped he’d be able to make love to Ana without scaring the poor girl by howling like a beast or something else equally embarrassing. He was only a man.

  Running clothes and shoes on, he grabbed the apartment key he kept in the foyer table on the way out the door. I hope Ana isn’t overanalyzing everything like I am, he thought as he closed the door behind him.

  Chapter 4

  “I’m freaking out!” Ana cried, trying to control the panic in her voice. Her sister, Sophia, in Milan was half asleep. She usually slept in on Sunday and it was still quite early in her part of the world.

  Ana was lying in bed with her back against the headboard and her long legs stretched out. Sophia was under the covers with her husband, Matteo, who was snugly pressed against her backside, gently snoring. It would take more than the shrill ringing of a phone to wake him.

  Sophia yawned before replying, “Yes, I do detect a little freaking out on your part,” she said. “But that’s to be expected since you’ve let a guy as hot as Erik slip through your fingers for as long as you have. I was beginning to doubt your sanity.”

  That comment made Ana smile. Leave it to her practical sister to point out the obvious. “It’s not like I’m jumping into bed with every man who shows interest,” she said in her defense. “You know how inexperienced I am.”

  “I know your only experience was a negative one and you’re not going to fully appreciate how truly bad it was until you have a good encounter with a man who knows what he’s doing in bed. Then, what Jack Russo did to you will feel like a slight glitch in your very satisfying love life. Oh, sorry, we aren’t supposed to be saying his name. Jack Russo, Jack Russo, Jack Russo. By saying his name you take some of the power out of it. You know the only reason he dropped you was because he had that actress waiting in the wings and she had more money and clout than you. I hate it when bastards like that just run over a woman’s feelings. You know, if I had been anywhere in the vicinity he would be missing his most vital organ right now.”

  Ana giggled. “Matteo must be sleeping very hard not to react to that comment.”

  Sophia giggled, too. “Yeah, he’s out. Your nephew had both of us up late last night.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry for interrupting your much needed rest. What was wrong with my nephew?”

  “Teething,” said Sophia. “Breast-feeding is becoming dangerous.”

  Ana sighed sympathetically. “Thinking of switching him to a bottle?”

  “I’m going to have to,” said Sophia. “Besides, according to his doctor he’s gotten all the good nutrients from breast milk that he needs at six months.”

  Remembering the conversation about firstborns not accepting new sisters and brothers, Ana said, “How is Renata handling being a big sister?”

  “She loves him, calls him her baby,” said Sophia. She yawned again.

  “Look, I’d better let you go,” said Ana. “I just wanted to hear a calm voice.”

  “And you called me?” joked Sophia. “Mom is the only one with a calm voice in this family.”

  “Don’t mention our conversation to them, okay? I’ll tell them when the time’s right.”

  “You are coming home for Christmas?” asked Sophia.

  Ana always went home for Christmas, which was celebrated with all the trimmings by the Corellis.

  “I don’t know yet,” Ana said truthfully. “With these new developments in my life I might want to go somewhere romantic with my man.” The thought excited her. “I’ll have to let you know.”

  “Now you sound like the idea of you and Erik as a couple is taking root,” Sophia told her, pleased with the confidence in her sister’s voice. “Okay, sis, talk to you later.”

  “Love you,” said Ana.

  “Love you!” Sophia replied.

  Ana hung up the phone and got up. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was nearly three. She and Erik were going to dinner at eight. She had plenty of time to work on a painting before getting dressed for their date.

  She’d changed her clothes upon entering the loft and now she was in comfortable sweats and an oversize T-shirt. In thick white socks she padded over to her “studio”—a section of the loft next to two floor-to-ceiling wi
ndows, which let in a lot of natural light.

  Although she had finished all of the paintings that were to be included in the upcoming show, she invariably had a work in progress on the easel. She removed the cloth and peered down at the half-finished portrait of Drusilla. She had sketched Drusilla so many times she knew every line and plane of her beloved face. Drusilla had never been a large woman. Not even five feet tall, she was also small boned. Because of her age, the skin on her face was thin and the bones were sharply delineated. Ana noticed things like that. Her artist’s eye adored the bone structure of human beings. That’s why she felt most comfortable painting portraits. She did some landscapes, too, but not many. Nothing was more beautiful to her than the human form. In Italy, when she first started taking lessons, her instructor had encouraged her to study anatomy. He gave her a battered copy of Grey’s Anatomy and she had studied it from cover to cover, her teenaged mind becoming obsessed with the human body. Now when she looked at people she didn’t just see their outward appearance, but their bone structure and consequently she saw beauty in every face she observed.

  Two hours later, she was still constructing Drusilla’s face on the canvas. Even though she’d been doing this for years it still amazed her, and felt somewhat miraculous, when from a blank slate an image emerged. She laughed, seeing that naughty expression in Drusilla’s eyes, which captured her personality. She had to admit that she had begun thinking of Drusilla as her own grandmother. She missed her grandmother, Renata, so much and in many ways Drusilla reminded her of her. Not so much how they looked but their indomitable spirits. She supposed that with age came wisdom.

  It was getting dark outside when she began cleaning up after herself, sealing the tubes of oil paint, washing the brushes and removing the drop cloth from the floor.

  After a soak in the tub she dried off and rubbed lotion into her skin. Completely nude, she stood in front of the full-length mirror. Her brown skin was mostly unscarred except for an inch-long scar on her right knee from when she was seven and fell from a tree she’d climbed in spite of being told not to by her parents. Her best friend at that time had been a boy named Pietro and he had loved climbing trees. She might not have defied her parents if he hadn’t accused her of being afraid of heights. She had to prove she wasn’t. Unfortunately, she got dizzy after climbing thirty feet into the tree and wound up losing her balance. The lush lawn had cushioned her fall for the most part, except for the knee which sustained a deep gash.