The two walked through the piazza toward the Hotel di Sole along the Bocca de Piazza. A smaller hotel hidden inside a quaint neighborhood that most tourists missed, the area drew Joy in. Along the way, she peeked into the various shops selling trinkets made from glass. Other shops sold purses, shoes, and women’s clothing. Chanel, Prada, Armani and more—Joy’s eyes widened with excitement. Especially when she spotted a particular women’s clothing store among many along the way.
“Ooh, look at these purses.” She pointed to the shop window. “I’ll be a minute. Do you mind?”
“I was married once and I have three sisters, so I do not mind. I will wait out here.” Alessandro chuckled, then relaxed on a bench outside the shop.
A few minutes later, Joy emerged holding a purse in her hand. “Success!”
Alessandro laughed.
“It’s for my daughter, Jaime.”
“It is beautiful.”
After a short stroll to the restaurant, Joy found herself explaining about Isabelle and Gloria.
“They argued at first over flowers. Flowers. Can you believe it?”
Alessandro shook his head.
“So I told them about what happened to my daughter—she was left at the altar—and how we didn’t expect it. You should have seen the looks on their faces when they heard the story.” Joy faced Alessandro. His eyebrows rose and his mouth dropped open.
“Yes! That’s what she looked like.” Joy laughed and pointed at him.
“I have never known anyone who had that happen to them.”
“It wasn’t easy. In fact, it nearly destroyed her.” Joy continued walking. “You see what I mean? The flowers at the wedding don’t mean anything in the end. It’s the love between two people surrounded by family and friends that matters most.”
“Oh, Joy. I honestly do not know what to say. Your daughter is so strong to have survived that pain and trust in love again. And so are you.”
Joy grinned, but inside, the pain and confusion remained. “Each day is a new day. That’s why I entered her photograph in that contest and . . . she won! Well, she was one of the winners, and off we went to Rome for adventure.”
“And here you are in Venice. Why didn’t you go home after Rome, Joy?” He squinted his eyes as if studying her.
“More adventure.” She shrugged and laughed. “Or avoidance. I suppose I wasn’t ready to go back to that big empty house alone yet.” Tony’s angry face appeared in her mind again. She shivered. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m bothering you with all this.”
“Nonsense.” Alessandro reached out and gently touched her hand. “You are not bothering me at all.”
Joy turned around and spotted the ristorante. “Is this it?”
“Yes. Andiamo.” Once inside, Joy found herself surrounded by Alessandro’s friends welcoming her.
She did her best to plant a smile on her face, but it was a façade. Panic rose within her as she realized she had no place there. No one spoke English, yet they were talking at her in loud voices.
Instinctively, she backed away and headed to the door.
“And this is my new friend, Joy.” Alessandro waved her over to the large table set for over a dozen people. “She is visiting from New York.”
“Benvenuto, Joy.” One man came up to her and shook her hand. “My family moved from Sicily to New York in the early 1900s. I have never been there, but I’d love to visit my cousins.”
“English. Thank heavens.” Joy sighed.
He led her to meet the others as he detailed his family’s business in New York.
Men chatted with their spouses, single women conversed with each other, and elderly folks greeted her warmly in Italian and English.
“I am Ricardo, and this is my wife, Donella.” He waved her over.
A short brunette dressed impeccably in a black dress and pearls, Donella greeted Joy with a hug and a kiss on both cheeks.
“Oh, hello.” Joy gently touched her cheek.
One by one, Alessandro’s friends shook her hand or pecked her cheeks as they introduced themselves. He then escorted her to a chair next to his.
“Alessandro,” a woman said. “You know better than that.” She shook her head and smirked. “You never sit by the woman you brought to dinner.” She pulled out a chair for Joy. “You sit by me, across from Alessandro, so he can keep an eye on you as you visit.”
Joy sat in the chair and watched the young woman as she sat next to her.
“I am Angelina.” She tossed her long dark hair over her shoulder. “I am an old family friend of Alessandro’s.”
“Nice to meet you. And you’re not old, trust me.” Joy thought Angelina resembled a younger but taller Liz Taylor. Her dark blue eyes were just as haunting as Liz Taylor’s famous violet eyes once were. Dressed in a black sheath dress adorned with a thick gold chain around her neck and a gold cuff on her wrist, Angelina could pass for a movie actress or model. She oozed glamour and wealth. Her bright red lipstick on her full lips caused men to stare.
“How do you know our Alessandro?” she asked in her thick Italian accent.
“I met him at the florist shop. With Dina and Vito.” Joy smiled and set her purse down at her feet.
“Ah, Dina and Vito. Yes. He brings them flowers and delivers them too. Were you buying flowers?” She poured herself some red wine.
“No. I helped them set up for a wedding, and now I work there in the shop for the next few days.” Joy folded her hands, then rested them on her lap.
