until Zoe disappeared, then she headed back to the hotel to park the car.
As she passed the front desk at the hotel, Ginger made arrangements to visit Burano, a place Byron loved for its color. The film being made on Byron would be enriched by some scenes from there. After she got back to her room, Ginger had a surprise phone call from Abby.
“Abby? Hey—what are you doing phoning this late?”
“I’m sorry, but I’m flying to Venice tomorrow and will try to plan a flight that fits in with your and Zoe’s schedule.”
“You’re not staying in Burgundy?”
Ginger heard Abby release a shuddering sigh. “No.”
“So the ‘come and see my notebook’ thing turned out not to be for real.”
“Actually there was a notebook with a poem, but it wasn’t an authentic signature of Byron’s.”
“But he really had something to show you?”
“Yes. I met his grandparents and they showed it to me.”
“Then he was on the level.”
“Yes.”
“You sound odd. Are you okay? What’s going on with you two?”
“It’s been a very full day with a funeral and a dinner. He’s a very important man. Don’t let me keep you up any longer. Shall I come early or late? You’d better check with Zoe.”
“She’s not here.”
“What do you mean?”
“Zoe decided to fly to Greece early, so I took her to the airport this evening and now I have the car. Tomorrow is Sunday and I’m going to Burano Island for a couple of days. I’ve already paid for travel and the hotel room for two nights on a special deal. Why don’t you check flights for Tuesday and I’ll meet you whenever you say?”
Ginger heard a hesitation, then, “That sounds fine. I’ll call you Tuesday and we’ll plan from there.”
“Perfect.”
Ginger realized something had gone wrong with Abby’s plans. What a shame for her.
The next morning Ginger left on a water bus for Burano and explored the island. The bright colors of the houses were remarkable, and she was glad she had come. After another productive day, Ginger returned to the hotel in Venice, tired and happy.
The next evening, she was getting ready for bed when she received a text from Abby rather than a phone call.
I won’t be flying to meet you after all. Maybe you should be sitting down. Raoul and I are going to be married in two days in a civil ceremony. We don’t want to wait. I adore him and I know it’s forever. We’ll have a church service later on and I hope you and Zoe will be able to come. I promise to tell you everything later. Love, Abby
Ginger read the text three times. How absolutely amazing and wonderful for their friend. Zoe would have received a text, too. But Ginger was worried for Abby. Wasn’t she nervous about getting married so fast when her engagement to Nigel had ended so painfully?
Abby hadn’t even known that Nigel was married and had children back in England. Now she was going to marry a Frenchman after such a short period of knowing him? It sounded very scary to Ginger. But at the same time she had to admire their friend who’d decided to take the plunge anyway and not let fear prevent her from following her heart.
Ginger got up from the side of the bed, realizing that’s what she was doing, following her heart by wanting to return to the monastery. Of course, she desired to talk with Father Giovanni, but she now knew he was friends with Signor Della Scalla. The monk was her link to the dark-haired stranger who’d mesmerized her.
She could still hear what he’d whispered. “Alla prossima, signora.” Did he really hope to see her again? After asking her to spend another day with him, Ginger had to believe it.
Her heart pounded painfully to imagine seeing him again. The possibility gave Ginger the impetus to follow through with her plan. Abby’s decision had given her a little more daring.
By the next morning Ginger was up early to drink coffee and eat a roll, unable to sleep any longer. She checked her hair and makeup in the mirror.
Today she teamed a short-sleeved pink-and-white-striped blouse with a summery white skirt. After putting a small notebook in her purse, she left the hotel at nine thirty and took a water taxi to the island.
A semicloudy sky covered the lagoon with its boats and ferries. The temperature would be a little warmer today.
Father Giovanni ought to be on the island. He just had to be.
* * *
For the last seven days Vittorio had spent all of his time with family while they dealt with the funeral and interment. Now he had to attend to business. But with his father gone, Vittorio wasn’t prepared for the pang of loss he felt as he arrived at the Della Scalla Shipping and Passenger Line Company.
As Vittorio’s uncle Bertoldo was the general manager, he’d asked the executive secretary to call a June meeting of the fifteen-member board set for 9:00 a.m. His father’s successor would have to be voted in as chairman. Everyone needed to be here, no exceptions.
Vittorio was the financial director for the company. He would prefer to stay in that position. But with the funeral over, it was necessary to restructure the business. Now there would have to be changes. One by one the board members arrived and took their place around the conference table.
Vittorio was the youngest board member and was probably resented by some of the older men. Maybe a few of them, like his uncle, had a hard time realizing he was the new Count Della Scalla. He despised the whole title business. Bertoldo, two years older than Vittorio’s father, never had children.
There were other problems. Bertoldo had his own ideas on how the company should be run. The two brothers had argued over the company’s direction for a decade, but it had never been full-out war.
Long ago Vittorio’s grandfather, the former Count Nunzio, had secretly influenced the board to vote in his son Mario instead of Bertoldo when he’d stepped down because of ill health. Of course, it didn’t stay a secret, and Bertoldo had always carried a grudge.
As Vittorio grew older, he recognized the wisdom of putting Mario in charge. His father had vision and knew when to take the necessary risks. Which is why he’d kept the business in the black at a time when Italy was going through economic crisis.
But now the situation had changed. Vittorio knew Bertoldo hoped to be made chairman. Both Vittorio and Gaspare liked their uncle well enough despite his view of limiting company expansion beyond Italy’s borders. His ideas would have held them back. In that regard, Vittorio had his own ideas about venturing further afield and knew his father had been in agreement, as well as Renaldo Coronna, his father’s friend and Paola’s father.
With Mario gone and their grandfather no longer alive to influence the vote, it was possible Bertoldo would finally achieve his dream. Vittorio could live with that if he had to. But there were other men on the board perfectly
