Angelo thought for a moment. “Stefano Accosi.”
She tipped her head. “How well do you know him?”
“Very well. And he knows me. Anyway, just about everything.”
She looked alert. “What are you hiding?”
He was ready for this. “I’ve got a history.” He hesitated for just a moment. “There are quite a number of issues I need to clean up before I can begin.”
“Such as?”
“You guessed once that you were not the first woman I’d had an affair with.” He sighed heavily, rubbed a hand over his hair. The only way he could explain what had happened in Arlund was by admitting that he had been a willing party to it. “How much time have you got to hear a confession?”
Gina crossed her arms as if she had been waiting all her life to hear this. “All night, Minister Grimani. For you, I have all night.”
***
A servant collected the dinner plates, and from across the table, Angelo watched the flickering candlelight. He desperately needed a cigarette. He was spent from telling his story, and at the same time, felt a lightness like he used to get after a strenuous downhill ski race.
Gina’s arms were resting on either side of her chair. “Dessert?”
“Have you got cigarettes?”
“I do.”
She called for the help, and Angelo rose from his chair to stretch his legs. The dining room, not big enough for more than twelve, was lushly lit with the candelabras, the tablecloth yellowed in the light, a vase of pink ranunculus turned ruby. To the left of the table was a marble fireplace with an oriental rug in front of it, and a low fire burned, as the house had taken on a chill since the sun had gone down. From the door between the dining room and kitchen came the scent of baking lemons. The servant returned with a small tray containing two cigarettes and a lighter, a holder for Gina, and a crystal ashtray. A second came with slices of lemon cake.
Angelo took the seat adjacent to Gina’s as she ordered coffee for both of them. He reached for the tray and prepared her cigarette in the holder.
“I didn’t know you smoked, Angelo.”
“I don’t. But I need one now.”
“I understand. After all that.”
He lit hers first, then his, took in a drag, tried not to cough, and squirmed at the first taste of it. “I dread asking you what you think.”
“About you smoking?”
He rolled his eyes. The next drag, however, was what he’d been after.
Gina stood then and went to the fireplace, turned around, and leaned against the side of it. “I am impressed, to be honest. You seem to have had a lot of time to think about things, either way.”
“Yes.”
“And you seem to have a plan of some sort on how you can make amends with the world.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“But, Angelo, aren’t your political ambitions—and be honest with me—motivated by wanting to get a leg up on your father?”
“No. Forget the Colonel. He’s going to do what he’s going to do.”
“Wise words. So what do you believe your next steps should be?”
“I’m open to suggestions.”
“Secure the ministry, Angelo. Before you go up against a force that is dangerously close to exploding. Truly, that’s my recommendation.”
When he began to protest, she held up her hand. “I will help make you a senator, Angelo, but do the job you are supposed to do first. I believe things are going to get worse before they get better, and you do not want to enter the storm with too few supporters behind you. Go win them over first, and the easiest way to do that is to access them through the position you’re in now. Prove yourself.”
She came to him, rested a hand on his shoulder, and this time her smile was apologetic. “You wanted an honest opinion. That’s it. We’re headed for war. You were a captain. What would you propose?”
He slowly reached for her hand and covered it with his. Gina was right. He saw what she saw now. “I need to mine for information, be well informed.”
“We need to convince them we’re real first,” she warned. “And get you trusted. On all sides.”
She withdrew her hand from under his and went around him and took her seat again. “What are your chances of getting Frau Steinhauser, this Katharina, to work with you?”
Angelo laughed abruptly and sat down.
Gina reached for him again, this time just as he picked up his dessert fork. “Look at it this way—if you can manage that, you’ll manage anything. That’s your first assignment.”
She withdrew her touch and cut into her dessert. He did as well, the cake buttery smooth and lemony, the sugar icing sticky and tangy. The coffee came. Their discussion turned to her children. Four of them at boarding schools, coming home for Easter, Gina said. Filipa was in Rome, she explained, studying to be a nurse.
“She left shortly after the episode at the villa and when Marco…” Gina shrugged. “Well, now I understand why my daughter fled south.”
“She spoke to you about it?” Angelo asked.
“Only about you being here. I had to tear down her bedroom door that day you were here. She had a fit. I then told her of our affair all those many years ago.”
This surprised him.
“I also explained,” Gina continued, “that what she saw was not an affair but an honest accident.”
He’d have swept her off to bed the day he’d spilled the coffee on her. Had it gone any further, he would have. In fact, the whole discussion about him wanting to run for the senate had just been another way to get into this very dining room—to dessert—hadn’t it? He reached for the bottle of red
