Bianca watches my face, and she laughs. “Now this is going to be fun!”
I shake my head in frustration, and I do not want Raven here looking so perfect. “She shouldn’t be looking this good in public, and it’s partly your fault. That dress has taken her from a ten to a twelve.”
“It has, and what a dress. It’s hers now, just so you know. There is no way I can wear it after such an incredible display of beauty.”
My eyes lock on Raven’s as she closes in. My sister speaks low, and she leans into me. “Oh my God. Dante is falling, and he’s falling fast.”
As I sip my wine, I glance at my sister angrily. Angrily because she is right.
Just before Raven steps up, a woman struts into our view. She is slightly drunk, and she is a woman my parents were trying to set me up with.
Italian blue blood.
Dear God!
“Dante darling, you look splendid. Mother said you would return to consider spouses. We simply must have dinner.”
The woman is all diamonds, Botox, and old money. She is the equivalent of old Hampton wealth, but she has started to age, and badly. Leathery skin, too much Botox, and too much lounging. Too many tropical islands, and not a day of real work,ever.
“Francesca,” Bianca says as they fake peck cheeks.
“Bianca, Dante,” Francesca says, holding me and kissing me longer than needed. My eyes find Raven, and she winks back at me. Raven slows, walking our way, and she gives the stranger time.
I manage to pull back, and I fake smile. “Francesca.” Raven comes forward, and her smile is for once on pause. “Francesca, I’d like you to meet… my… friend. A novelist and international traveler.”
Francesca takes in Raven, and they both nod. Francesca gives Raven an icy glare, but the American beauty smiles warmly.
That’s because she still has a soul.
“How do you do?” Francesca asks, snooty and presenting her hand as if she is royalty.
She is not. Her aunt was simply the equivalent of a countess from Rome, but that means nothing now.
As the two women shake hands, they eye each other up. My sister and I look on, and I can tell Raven’s mind is working fast. This should be good.
“Charmed, I’m sure.”
Raven must have worked it out, and she just turned on the most over-the-top old money accent I’ve ever heard. And I’ve heard a lot over the years.
“So, Raven, what are you doing here in our Italy?”
“Raven is traveling while writing a novel,” I say protectively. “She’s from New York City and has a degree in English. She used to ride competitively, and she can drive a Ferrari at near racetrack level.”
The last part was bit a stretch, and in reality, when Raven drove us part of the way home from Milan, she almost ran us over a cliff. That was before I pulled her aside, fucked her to calm her, and shoved her back in the passenger seat.
As Raven kisses the corner of my mouth, she winks unseen. “Thanks for not mentioning the sex education.”
Bianca coughs on her champagne, and I try not to laugh. As Raven continues, Bianca and I share a keep-your-shit-together look.
“Anyway, enough about me. It’s rather embarrassing, really, even if I’m the most dedicated of students. I never rode equestrian at an Olympic level, only state, so it’s not worth mentioning. Now, how about yourself? What profession are you in, dear?”
Francesca gulps, and she waves fast. “Oh, there’s Papa. Papa… Papa…”
As the distraction trots away, the three of us shake our heads and chuckle. The release is needed, and it calms me some.
“That was good,” Bianca says, “I needed a good laugh.”
Raven smiles and holds onto my shoulder. “No doubt another overbred harlot you fingered as a teen. You really are a brute. It’s going to be hard to break you.”
