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  We all laugh.

  “That sounds just like something he’d say, right, Mom?” I say.

  “Indeed it does,” my mom says.

  “And that’s my boy,” my dad adds. “Go for what you want. I taught him that.”

  Suddenly, Nolan clears his throat loudly and wipes his mouth. “Speaking of going for what you want…”

  I watch him curiously as he stands then gets down on one knee in front of me.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “I already gave my blessing,” my dad says.

  I quickly turn to look at him. My dad’s smiling like he’s just won the lottery or something. My mom and Brian look just as happy.

  “You spoke to my parents before tonight?” I ask.

  “I did, babe,” Nolan says. “Abby?”

  “Huh?” My skin is running hot, and I put my hand over my mouth.

  “I knew I would be with you forever from the first moment you spilled coffee on me.”

  Everyone laughs. I blink rapidly as I try to remember what he’s talking about, but when I calm down long enough to gaze into his eyes, the memory of hot coffee slamming into his chest one cold winter morning is as clear as day.

  Instead of talking, I nod.

  “So, Abby Banks, would you marry me?” Nolan asks.

  I grab my chest and nearly hyperventilate. Can this be happening? I look at my mom, who’s nearly screaming in celebration. My dad is tickled pink. Brian and Nadia are holding hands.

  “Answer already,” my mom says.

  My eyes have filled with tears. Little did I know when I met Nolan a year and a half ago that I’d be sitting here with him and my family now in this moment. “Yes!” I sing, overjoyed. “A thousand times yes!”

  Nolan sweeps me out of my seat and into his arms. He hugs me so tightly that I think I lose my breath. This is the happiest moment of my life.

  He whispers in my ear, “Thank you, baby. I’m going to make you so happy.”

  Mom dances over to the stereo. “This is a moment to celebrate!” She turns on the Calypso music.

  For the rest of the night, we dance, and dance, and dance some more. When it’s over, Nolan and I go home and make love as we’ve never made love before.

  33

  Eight months later…

  Our wedding was beautiful. Of course, to make my parents happy, we did a whole lot of dancing.

  I transferred to a university here in Minneapolis to be closer to home, and Nolan. I’ve just gotten out of my seminar, and Nolan has picked me up from school. Nolan said he has a surprise for me, so I’m sitting in the front seat of his car with a yellow ribbon tied around my eyes.

  “How are you and junior doing this afternoon?” he asks.

  I rub my inflated belly. I’m eight months pregnant, and it shows. “Just like Mommy, he’s hungry. So where are you taking me?” I’m a little snappy.

  “I knew your blood sugar would be low, so I’ve got food covered too. So just sit back, Abs, and enjoy the ride, my love,” he says.

  I blow out a hard breath. “Nolan, baby, I’ve got to say that this little game you’re playing would be a lot more fun if I had a sandwich and if I didn’t have to pee.”

  He laughs. “Just hold on a little longer. I’m turning the corner right now. Do you feel the car turning the corner?”

  “Barely,” I’m still not a happy camper.

  “Well it did, and now we’re here.” The car stops. “Stay put.”

  Nolan opens his door and gets out. A few seconds later, my door opens. He helps me out then takes the ribbon off my eyes.

  “Ta-da,” he says.

  I frown at what’s before me. “It’s Bill’s house.”

  Nolan’s beaming. “It’s our house.”

  I frown, puzzled. “But I thought you sold it.”

  “The sale fell through,” he says ecstatically.

  I give the house another once-over. It’s so big, so lovely. “Oh my God.”

  Nolan sounds dejected as he says, “Of course, if you don’t want to live here…”

  I squeeze his arm to stop him from saying more. “Of course I want it.”

  He takes my hand. “Listen, Abs, I want to make new memories in this house with you and our family. I feel my dad in this house, and I know he would want us to live here.”

  I study the house’s façade again. I remember our last conversation about how he regretted selling it after learning how Bill had died. Finally I turn away from the house and look at my husband. “I would love to make new family memories here with you.”

  His eyes widen with excitement. “You would?”

  “Most definitely.”

  On the front lawn, we kiss deeply. The only thing that interrupts us is my rumbling stomach.

  Our lips part. “Okay, now where’s the food?” I demand.

  Nolan leads me into the house, and in the middle of the living room is a spread of Chinese food on a table. I glance around, but I can’t see any other furniture except for two kitchen chairs.

  “I thought I’d leave the furnishing to you,” he says.

  I wink at him. “Smart husband.”

  He chuckles as I run off to the bathroom and pee before we sit down to eat.

  I rub my belly as I settle into my seat. “Junior loves to kick right after I pee and when he knows it’s time to eat.”

  “That’s my boy!” Nolan sings.

  We laugh.

  “So is this our happily ever after?” I ask after we simmer down.

  His smile is bright enough to light the city. “This is it, baby.”

  I smile. It sure is.

  The Artist Love

  The Artist’s Love” features Liza Sharpe from “The Boss’ Desire.”

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  1

  I sit on the chair, stooped over with my face buried in one hand. What my older brother, Nolan, just told me hits me so hard that it somehow knocks my soul out of my body.

  “Liza?” he says.

  Tears fall in a steady stream as I smash my lips together more tightly and whimper like a hurt puppy.

  “I’ll give you a moment, Mouse,” he says, realizing that it’s impossible for me to speak when I feel this way.

  My brother just said that my ex-husband, John, has been arrested for murdering our father. Nolan claims that the evidence against John is mostly circumstantial but strong.

  The most hurtful thought going through my mind right now is the fact that I’m not shocked. Everyone accepted that John was bad news even before we said, “I do.” After my father died, I conceded to the fact that John was a selfish prick. While my father was still alive John stole and falsified documents in order to get his grubby hands on my inheritance and more.

  Nolan had uncovered John’s dirty dealings and threatened to go to the police with the evidence if he didn’t offer me an uncontested divorce in which he got nothing, not even unsupervised visits with our son, Aiden. But after the lawyers left John and I in the room to have a final conversation, I learned who he really was.

  “So why did you do it? Why did you lie and steal?” I asked.

  He gave me an evil scowl as if he was mocking my existence. “I never loved you, do you know that?”

  My face dropped. I remember wondering how I was su
pposed to answer that question. Do I answer truthfully, or do I continue deluding myself?

  “You never loved me?” I said.

  John continued to glare at me as if he wanted to rip off my head. No, he couldn’t love me because all I saw in his eyes was hate.

  “I did it because it was what I was owed for being married to you.”

  After a long moment, I cleared my throat and said, “What about our baby?”

  John sniffed bitterly and stood. “The kid was your idea, not mine.”

  His words made me feel as if I'd shattered into a million pieces. My lips parted. I watched him turn and leave, not even closing the door behind him. I wanted to bawl like baby or scream while pounding the table until my knuckles bled. Not because this cruel individual had broken my heart or hurt my feelings. No… it was because the truth had gushed to the surface like a soda pop shaken in a bottle. And when that illumination struck me, I shut my eyes tightly and shoved it back into its hiding place.

  But now, with this new information that I’ve received from brother, the walls around the deep, dark space where I’ve hidden my true feelings have been demolished.

  “I don’t know what to do now.” I sigh briskly. “What do you think I should do?”

  “Liza, what do you want to do?” Nolan asks.

  For a moment, I consider leaving Italy and returning to Minneapolis. I have a job here, and I’m in the midst of preparing for a big interview with Michael Donatello in three days. He’s the executor of Castello di Donatello, one of the most exquisite and famous castles in the region. This is a make-or-break interview for me.

  I’m the host of a luxury living show for TV Adesso in Bari. My ratings are flat though, because the producers at TV Ora, our competitors, run a show exactly like mine. And someone over there keeps swiping every interview I book. I’ve managed to keep Castello di Donatello off their radar, and I so very much need this interview to materialize. My job is to take viewers into the halls and grounds of the great estates of Italy. I haven’t booked an estate this luxurious in six months, and if my ratings continue to slip, then my show just might be canceled. I don’t want that.

  “When is he going to be arraigned?” I ask in an unsure tone.

  “Listen, you don’t have to come home. You’re not married to the guy anymore.”

  “I was thinking the same thing.”

  “Plus, I’m keeping a close eye on the proceedings. I’ll let you know if you’re needed for anything.”

  I lose my breath for a moment as dread rushes through me. “Are you saying that I might have to testify?”

  “I don’t know. It’s a possibility.”

  I detect irritation in his voice. Choosing not to push the envelope, I close my eyes and shake my head. “Okay. Well, thank you.”

  “No problem. Listen, I have to go, but I love you.”

  “Okay. Nolan, I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “For what I’ve done.”

  He goes silent.

  “Nolan?” I say, checking to see if he’s still there.

  “Liza, don’t you ever apologize for what that fucker chooses to do, hear me?” He sounds angry.

  I gulp. “Well… okay.”

  I say it to appease him, but I don’t believe it. No. I brought that monster into our family. My father’s death is my fault.

  Nolan and I say our good-byes, our voices sad. I pick up the glass of merlot I was drinking before he called. I have dinner plans tonight with my boyfriend, Salvatore Bovetti. Suddenly, I lose my taste for the wine.

  A picture comes to mind. I conjure up an image of John shooting drugs into my dad’s arm while Dad lay helplessly in his hospital bed. I shake my head as anger and pain well up inside me. Before I know it, my arm pitches the glass of wine against the wall. Glass shatters, and red liquid splashes on the white walls and a painting of the Italian coastal town of Riomaggiore that I bought from a village artist in his tiny village shop while on a romantic excursion through the Cinque Terra with Salvatore.

  “Cosé successo?” Floriana, my nanny, says.

  I turn to face her standing in the doorway. Floriana is young and pretty, with jet-black hair and mysterious brown eyes. She’s studying to become a preschool teacher because she really likes little children.

  “Have you been crying?” she asks, this time in English.

  I swipe the tears off my face. “No… yes… a little.”

  She takes two steps closer, then stops. “Are you okay?”

  I shake my head as though the concept of being okay is incomprehensible. “I don’t know yet.”

  Aiden makes a sound in the other room, and she jumps as she glances in the direction of his voice. “I have to go, but leave the mess. I will clean it later.”

  She watches me, waiting for my response. For some reason, this all feels so wrong. I should be cleaning my own mess. When my child makes a noise, I should be the one hopping to it. I just learned my ex-husband murdered my father. I should be in bed with the covers pulled up over my head.

  Instead, I nod stiffly. “Thank you.”

  I trudge to my room and put on the silky, strappy white dress I picked out earlier. Next, I freshen my makeup. For a fleeting second, I’m incensed at myself for agreeing to drive all the way to town to meet Salvatore for dinner. He didn’t want to drive to my house to pick me up because he was already in town, near the restaurant, for business. He’s an investment banker, and quite successful at it, which makes me remember something.

  I run back into my closet to retrieve the velvet jewelry box off the shelf and bring it back to the mirror. I open it, and just like the first time I laid eyes on the lovely gift, I gasp. It’s a diamond tennis bracelet with matching earrings. Salvatore said that the fact that both pieces cost more than a hundred grand should prove to me that he loves me. It sounded good when he said it, but now… I’m not so sure. I’m starting to doubt whether or not I know what true love looks like.

  However, I promised Salvatore I would wear the set more often, which is why we made dinner plans tonight. He was giving me the opportunity to step out in excess. So I clamp the bracelet around my left wrist and insert the diamond-encrusted earrings into my earholes. I pick up the cell phone on my vanity dresser.

  “Shit,” I mutter.

  I’m already late, but I’m going to be unforgivably late if I don’t leave right now.

  2

  I walk past Aiden’s room. The lamp next to his unoccupied crib shines brightly. He and the nanny are playing in the middle of the room, doing a dance. Aiden is giggling with his hands in the air, holding hers, and stepping along the old floorboards. My darkness is overtaken by joy, for a moment, then my smile wavers.

  I’m surprised and pleased by his comfort with Floriana. And I’m at a loss because she’s the one he’s so relaxed and playful with.

  Aiden giggles again.

  Floriana smiles and looks up at me. “He’ll be doing the two-step before you know it.”

  I walk toward him and bend down. He gets serious and stops his stomping.

  “I love you baby,” I say and give him a kiss and leave.

  On the way to La Terrazza di Rossa, I feel numb. The glittering lights of the city in the valley below feel shallow. I turn sharply around the first major bend.

  I remember when I got here. Aiden and I had traveled across the country, even into Germany, Switzerland, France, and Spain. I told the taxi driver to take us where we would feel the beauty of Italy in this town. He drove us up the very road I now descend.

  I turn around the next corner, traversing the hillside. The elegant Italian village is quietly nestled into the sea’s cove, topped by brilliant groves of green hillsides, vineyards, and estates. It reminds me of when I was a little girl and my family would travel to Napa.

  I looked at Aiden and said with a smile, “This is it. This is where we are going to stay.”

  I slow for a moment, the city drawing closer with every passing curve. I knew it would be a
great place for me to start a new beginning. The innocence of the valley and the large hillsides protecting the sea felt safe, like a perfect landing pad after our two-month journey and my breakup with John.

  How in the hell could I let that asshole into my family? I snarl. Why didn’t I listen to my brother’s warnings?

  The day John and Nolan returned from their hunting trip, Nolan told me how John’s eyes wandered constantly toward the waitress’s mid-section. I dismissed it since John did that with me all of the time.

  I round the next bend. This time, my tires screech while passing through the apex of the corner.

  Little did I know he was going to put his dick into everything and anything with a pulse.

  The next bend comes, and I take the vehicle through it like a precision-guided missile. The tires screech. I can feel their grip stretched to the limits. My nostrils flare as I think of him schmoozing his penis into the unsuspecting lives of god knows how many women.

  Oh no! I stamp my foot onto the accelerator, only to brake more aggressively into the next turn.

  All the while, I was ignoring the signs. My best friend, Ashley, told me how he would stare at her too, and he was always asking so many questions about my dad’s and the family’s finances.

  “Goddamn it!” I squeeze the leather on the steering wheel so tightly it compresses between my fingertips. I accelerate, darting through the twists and turns.

  I let him into my family, and as a result, my father’s dead.

  “Fuck!” I can’t contain myself.

  My car skids into the center portion of the highway, and suddenly I’m staring into the headlights of oncoming traffic. I turn the wheel as aggressively as I can, but the tires don’t grip. My vehicle drifts farther into the other lane.