Page 30
Story: That's Amore
TEN
Dante
Iwas an asshole. Anidiota. An imbecile.
Jealousy had made me say cruel and hurtful things to Elysa. When I reviewed our conversation and recalled how she shut down, shame crawled through me. Nonno would be disappointed in me.
I was in a mood so foul that even Giulia, my assistant who usually told me to “tranquillizzati,” when I was being like this, was steering clear of me. I didn’t blame her. If I could crawl out of my skin, I would.
Even the sunlight streaming through the antique windows of my office felt like an affront. It was too bright and cheerful, mocking me while I failed the test of decency in self-reflection. I had barely touched my coffee, and my overflowing email inbox was left as is, which wasn’t how I normally worked.
Luca.Cazzo. He had been stuck in my head allnight, taunting me. I’d been jealous—no, furious—when I saw Elysa smiling at him, laughing with him like she hadn’t since she left me. But the worst part? I had no place to stand. What had I given her to smile about lately? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
I’d spent the better part of the night after I left her, alternating between rage and shame, the latter creeping in as the hours stretched and the silence of my suite grew unbearable. By the time I finally fell asleep, I knew one thing for certain: I had no one to blame but myself for thegran casinomy life was.
The knock on my office door barely registered, and when I barked, “Enter,” Giulia came in, tablet in hand, looking pensive.
“Buongiorno, Dante. You have thirty minutes before your next meeting, and I was hoping we could finalize the details for the event in Piedmont.”
Cazzo!
I’d forgotten about the event honoring Nonno, where he was posthumously being awarded theOrdine al Merito della Repubblica Italiana—the highest civilian honor in the country—for his contributions to the wine industry.
Nonno was to be celebrated in his hometown of Montefiore, Piedmont. It was going to be a massive event, with government officials, industry leaders, and the Giordano company’s top brass in attendance. This would be a perfect opportunity to showcase the family’s legacy and strengthen the company’s reputation.
I could hear Elysa’s tremulous words when, last night, she said, “Dante, this was the last time, okay? No more. I can’t do more.”
Che cavolo!
She had to be there. Her father would be part of the ceremony as he ledtheConsorzio del Vino di Piedmont,the regional wine consortium dedicated to protecting and promoting the excellence of Piedmont’s wines.
I ran a hand through my hair. I still hadn’t done a damn thing with those divorce papers. Actually, I had left them in my dresser in the flat, where I hadn’t been for…what, six weeks now?Cristo!For a wife who I wanted to get rid of, she was putting me through a dance, wasn’t she?
And that’s when the thought struck:Maybe it’s because you don’t want to get rid of her.
What a ridiculous notion! We weren’t suited. Sure, for a little time, we could make it work, but not in the long run. That required mutual understanding based on a common background, which Elysa and I didn’t have. She was too New York, and I was completely Italian.
“What?” Giulia asked.
“Elysa will have to be there.”
“Of course,” Giulia agreed and then raised an eyebrow. “Were you not planning on taking her?”
There was censure in her tone. “What?”
Giulia looked at me like a mother would an errantchild. “Whatever is happening between you and Lucia is…well, it’s indecent. You’ve been married a year, and you’re already….” She sighed and added, “I didn’t expect that of you, Dante.”
“You think I’m having an affair with Lucia?”
Did she think I was that low?
Then, that stupid voice in my head that I was convinced was my conscience said,“But Dante, you do spend an enormous amount of your time with her.”
“It’s work! I work with Lucia.”
“Yes, and so does everyone else,” she announced.
“I am not having an affair,” I stated as emphatically as I could through gritted teeth.
Dante
Iwas an asshole. Anidiota. An imbecile.
Jealousy had made me say cruel and hurtful things to Elysa. When I reviewed our conversation and recalled how she shut down, shame crawled through me. Nonno would be disappointed in me.
I was in a mood so foul that even Giulia, my assistant who usually told me to “tranquillizzati,” when I was being like this, was steering clear of me. I didn’t blame her. If I could crawl out of my skin, I would.
Even the sunlight streaming through the antique windows of my office felt like an affront. It was too bright and cheerful, mocking me while I failed the test of decency in self-reflection. I had barely touched my coffee, and my overflowing email inbox was left as is, which wasn’t how I normally worked.
Luca.Cazzo. He had been stuck in my head allnight, taunting me. I’d been jealous—no, furious—when I saw Elysa smiling at him, laughing with him like she hadn’t since she left me. But the worst part? I had no place to stand. What had I given her to smile about lately? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
I’d spent the better part of the night after I left her, alternating between rage and shame, the latter creeping in as the hours stretched and the silence of my suite grew unbearable. By the time I finally fell asleep, I knew one thing for certain: I had no one to blame but myself for thegran casinomy life was.
The knock on my office door barely registered, and when I barked, “Enter,” Giulia came in, tablet in hand, looking pensive.
“Buongiorno, Dante. You have thirty minutes before your next meeting, and I was hoping we could finalize the details for the event in Piedmont.”
Cazzo!
I’d forgotten about the event honoring Nonno, where he was posthumously being awarded theOrdine al Merito della Repubblica Italiana—the highest civilian honor in the country—for his contributions to the wine industry.
Nonno was to be celebrated in his hometown of Montefiore, Piedmont. It was going to be a massive event, with government officials, industry leaders, and the Giordano company’s top brass in attendance. This would be a perfect opportunity to showcase the family’s legacy and strengthen the company’s reputation.
I could hear Elysa’s tremulous words when, last night, she said, “Dante, this was the last time, okay? No more. I can’t do more.”
Che cavolo!
She had to be there. Her father would be part of the ceremony as he ledtheConsorzio del Vino di Piedmont,the regional wine consortium dedicated to protecting and promoting the excellence of Piedmont’s wines.
I ran a hand through my hair. I still hadn’t done a damn thing with those divorce papers. Actually, I had left them in my dresser in the flat, where I hadn’t been for…what, six weeks now?Cristo!For a wife who I wanted to get rid of, she was putting me through a dance, wasn’t she?
And that’s when the thought struck:Maybe it’s because you don’t want to get rid of her.
What a ridiculous notion! We weren’t suited. Sure, for a little time, we could make it work, but not in the long run. That required mutual understanding based on a common background, which Elysa and I didn’t have. She was too New York, and I was completely Italian.
“What?” Giulia asked.
“Elysa will have to be there.”
“Of course,” Giulia agreed and then raised an eyebrow. “Were you not planning on taking her?”
There was censure in her tone. “What?”
Giulia looked at me like a mother would an errantchild. “Whatever is happening between you and Lucia is…well, it’s indecent. You’ve been married a year, and you’re already….” She sighed and added, “I didn’t expect that of you, Dante.”
“You think I’m having an affair with Lucia?”
Did she think I was that low?
Then, that stupid voice in my head that I was convinced was my conscience said,“But Dante, you do spend an enormous amount of your time with her.”
“It’s work! I work with Lucia.”
“Yes, and so does everyone else,” she announced.
“I am not having an affair,” I stated as emphatically as I could through gritted teeth.
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