‘I’ve no idea,’ Ariana said, practising her shrug, as if Gian De Luca was the very last person on her mind.
As the vows were made, and Nicki jostled to take photos on her phone, Ariana asked herself why she hadn’t told Nicki about what had happened with Gian. Neither had she told her the truth about her parents...
Paulo she wasn’t so close to, but she and Nicki were supposed to be best friends.
It was a question of trust, Ariana realised.
Deep in her soul, Ariana realised that she did not trust the woman who sat by her side and it had nothing to do with Gian’s opinion of Nicki...
The answer had arrived in its own time and the conclusion Ariana came to was all hers.
Ariana said nothing, of course. She just smiled through the proceedings and raised a glass when Dante announced in his speech that he and Mia were expecting twins—likely the reason for her showing so much. Not that Nicki corrected her earlier assumption. ‘You’re going to be an aunty...twice!’ Nicki screeched, and called to the waiter for another bottle of champagne.
‘Make that two bottles,’ Paulo said, and Ariana’s eyes actually scanned the room for Gian, as if hope and need might make him somehow appear.
He did not.
Apart from his absence, it was a wonderful wedding, their love so palpable it made Ariana both happy and pensive.
‘It will be your turn soon.’ Nicki smiled as they took a break from the dancing. ‘And I shall be your bridesmaid...’
‘You’ll be the oldest bridesmaid in Rome if you wait for me,’ Ariana said. ‘I want a career.’
‘Why?’ Nicki frowned. ‘It’s not as if you need to work. You have Daddy’s trust fund. Didn’t he leave you an apartment in Paris? We should go there and check it out...’
‘It’s not enough—’
‘Please,’ Nicki scoffed. ‘Poor little rich girl.’ Her narrowed eyes snapped back to wide and friendly and she pushed out a smile. ‘Let’s join Paulo.’
‘You go,’ Ariana encouraged. ‘I’ll just sit here awhile.’
Her rare absence on the dance floor did not go unnoticed. ‘Get off your phone, Ariana,’ Dante called. ‘Come and dance...’
Except it wasn’t her own phone that Ariana was going through, it was her friend’s. Some might call it dishonest, or an invasion of privacy, a breach of trust...
Except, from where Ariana now sat, those titles belonged to Nicki.
There was a sneaky little shot of Mia in profile as she made her vows, a definite confirmation of the pregnancy that had been announced only to family and friends. That could be excused, though, as lots of people had been taking photos.
What could not be excused was an earlier image of Mia and Dante, locked in a passionate embrace. It was the photo that had been taken at the ball, the one that had caused so much pain.
To a heart that Ariana had thought could not be broken further, the knowledge that her friend had betrayed her added another river of pain.
The ridiculous part was that the one person in whom she would have confided, Ariana had asked not to attend.
She missed him.
Even with his selfish guidelines as to what a relationship with him might entail, she needed him tonight.
‘Ariana!’
Her name was being shouted by lots of people now.
Maybe she had grown up some, because instead of confronting Nicki and causing a scene at her brother’s wedding, she did the right thing.
Ariana put down the phone, topped up her lipstick...
...and danced.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ARIANA WASN’T AVOIDING sorting out her life.
If that had been the case, then she would have said yes to Gian’s offer to be his mistress. She would have left her chaotic family and Janus friend and headed for Florence to be wined and dined and made love to over and over.
Instead, she faced the mountain that at first had looked far too high to climb. Yet, bit by bit, she found the tools to tackle it, some of which had been given to her by Gian.
The doorman received a stern warning that from now on Ariana’s whereabouts were to remain private and heaven help him if an unannounced guest arrived at her door. She declined nights out with Paulo, to be seen, for she had felt Gian’s exasperation and knew he was right.
It wasn’t just Gian’s suggestions she followed, though. She also took Dante’s perpetual advice and finally turned off her phone.
Apart from Eloa’s hen night, where red lips were certainly required, most were spent sitting on her apartment floor, eating ice cream and finally sorting out her photos into albums.
Ariana chose to withdraw from the endless vacuous socialising and learned to rely on her own company, arranging her past into a more honest shape as she prepared for a new future. Finally, she was ready for a couple of nights in Luctano, where she spoke at length with Roberto and got to know her father, a little too late, but a whole lot more.
‘He loved you,’ Roberto said.
‘I know.’
She did.
On the Thursday before she headed for home, ready now to visit his grave, Ariana spread an armful of gorgeous hand-picked daffodils, which meant truth, rebirth and new beginnings, and a little sprig of violets, for peace in the afterlife, and told him about Stefano and Eloa’s wedding, which was just two days away.
‘I am his wedding padrihnos, or wedding bridesmaid,’ Ariana told her father. ‘It basically means I am Stefano’s best man.’ She knew that would make him smile, wherever he was now. ‘And Nicki is coming over tomorrow and I shall be telling her she is not welcome at the wedding and I don’t want to see her any more.’ Ariana swallowed. ‘I still haven’t told Dante about the photo.’
It wasn’t her brother’s wrath that worried her, more that he would, of course, tell Gian. She couldn’t bear the thought of him rolling his eyes, for he had warned her about Nicki more than once.
There was something else too, something she hadn’t told anyone yet, not even
