a hole in her pocket.
And she had done this in much the same way she had looked at her lire as a child, counted the money over and over again, then put her little purse in a very safe place. And she had hardly been able to wait until Saturday and her trip to the shops.
Quite aside from wanting to attend Anya’s party, Paris was Maria’s favorite place. And also, the idea of escape appealed to her enormously … escape from her domineering family, a job that bored her, a family business she had not the slightest interest in, and a personal life that was dull and uneventful.
She
was
going to go to Paris, and she fully intended to have a good time when she got there.
It would not be merely a weekend visit just to attendthe celebration. She planned to take her vacation in June, and she would stay in Paris for a week. Perhaps even two. Or maybe even three.
Three weeks in Paris
. The mere thought of it took her breath away. What a wonderful idea.
Now on this Thursday evening, almost a week since she had received the FedEx envelope, Maria was still ecstatic, as if she had inhaled some kind of high-octane gas. She couldn’t wait to tell Fabrizio about the party and the trip she was planning. Her brother was coming to dinner; he usually did on Thursdays if he was in Milan.
As it was, Fabrizio had been away for the past two weeks, visiting some of their clients in Vienna, Munich, and London. He was the head of sales in their company, Franconi and Sons, manufacturers of textiles par excellence since 1870.
With lightness and speed, Maria moved around the high-tech stainless-steel-and-glass kitchen in her modern apartment, checking the pasta she had just freshly made from her own dough, stirring the Bolognese meat sauce she had put in a glass bowl a few minutes before. Moving to the refrigerator, she took out the mozzarella cheese and tomatoes, began to slice these items. Once she had done so, she arranged them on two plates and added basil leaves. Later she would drizzle oil on top.
As she worked, Maria glanced out of the window, thinking what a pretty sky it was. Ink-black, filled with crystal stars and a perfect orb of a moon, it was without cloud tonight.
She could see from the delicate lacy pattern of the frost on the windowpane that it had turned icy outside. But then, it usually was cold in Milan in February.
Maria was glad Fabrizio was coming to dinner. She had missed him while he had been away. He was not onlyher favorite in the family but her ally in the business. Not that she really needed one these days, since she was now twenty-nine and able to stand up for herself. However, he took her side whenever she had a strong opinion, and agreed with most of the major points she made at meetings. Her grandfather usually did not.
Frequently her father supported her, since he, too, saw the necessity for a number of their lines to be updated. This was something Maria continually fought for, but she was not always successful, much to her irritation.
In the years since she had graduated from Anya’s school in Paris, she had become one of the top designers at Franconi, and Fabrizio in particular was forever acclaiming her talent, giving her accolades for her textiles.
Deep down, she didn’t really enjoy her work anymore, feeling at times that she was in a rut. And her frustration forever got the better of her.
Thinking suddenly of this, she sighed under her breath, then immediately clamped down on these negative feelings, focusing instead on her brother. His arrival was imminent. This instantly cheered her up. Fabrizio enjoyed her cooking, and they usually had a good time together, no matter what they did.
Like her, Fabrizio, who was thirty-one, was single; like her, he was also forever being nagged at by their mother … marriage being the reason for the incessant nagging. Their mother and their grandmothers Franconi and Rodolfo couldn’t wait to bounce bambinos on their laps, and were therefore vociferous about
And she had done this in much the same way she had looked at her lire as a child, counted the money over and over again, then put her little purse in a very safe place. And she had hardly been able to wait until Saturday and her trip to the shops.
Quite aside from wanting to attend Anya’s party, Paris was Maria’s favorite place. And also, the idea of escape appealed to her enormously … escape from her domineering family, a job that bored her, a family business she had not the slightest interest in, and a personal life that was dull and uneventful.
She
was
going to go to Paris, and she fully intended to have a good time when she got there.
It would not be merely a weekend visit just to attendthe celebration. She planned to take her vacation in June, and she would stay in Paris for a week. Perhaps even two. Or maybe even three.
Three weeks in Paris
. The mere thought of it took her breath away. What a wonderful idea.
Now on this Thursday evening, almost a week since she had received the FedEx envelope, Maria was still ecstatic, as if she had inhaled some kind of high-octane gas. She couldn’t wait to tell Fabrizio about the party and the trip she was planning. Her brother was coming to dinner; he usually did on Thursdays if he was in Milan.
As it was, Fabrizio had been away for the past two weeks, visiting some of their clients in Vienna, Munich, and London. He was the head of sales in their company, Franconi and Sons, manufacturers of textiles par excellence since 1870.
With lightness and speed, Maria moved around the high-tech stainless-steel-and-glass kitchen in her modern apartment, checking the pasta she had just freshly made from her own dough, stirring the Bolognese meat sauce she had put in a glass bowl a few minutes before. Moving to the refrigerator, she took out the mozzarella cheese and tomatoes, began to slice these items. Once she had done so, she arranged them on two plates and added basil leaves. Later she would drizzle oil on top.
As she worked, Maria glanced out of the window, thinking what a pretty sky it was. Ink-black, filled with crystal stars and a perfect orb of a moon, it was without cloud tonight.
She could see from the delicate lacy pattern of the frost on the windowpane that it had turned icy outside. But then, it usually was cold in Milan in February.
Maria was glad Fabrizio was coming to dinner. She had missed him while he had been away. He was not onlyher favorite in the family but her ally in the business. Not that she really needed one these days, since she was now twenty-nine and able to stand up for herself. However, he took her side whenever she had a strong opinion, and agreed with most of the major points she made at meetings. Her grandfather usually did not.
Frequently her father supported her, since he, too, saw the necessity for a number of their lines to be updated. This was something Maria continually fought for, but she was not always successful, much to her irritation.
In the years since she had graduated from Anya’s school in Paris, she had become one of the top designers at Franconi, and Fabrizio in particular was forever acclaiming her talent, giving her accolades for her textiles.
Deep down, she didn’t really enjoy her work anymore, feeling at times that she was in a rut. And her frustration forever got the better of her.
Thinking suddenly of this, she sighed under her breath, then immediately clamped down on these negative feelings, focusing instead on her brother. His arrival was imminent. This instantly cheered her up. Fabrizio enjoyed her cooking, and they usually had a good time together, no matter what they did.
Like her, Fabrizio, who was thirty-one, was single; like her, he was also forever being nagged at by their mother … marriage being the reason for the incessant nagging. Their mother and their grandmothers Franconi and Rodolfo couldn’t wait to bounce bambinos on their laps, and were therefore vociferous about
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