Chapter Nineteen
Michelangelo’s stomach clenched as he stood before all of the orchestra members. He’d cursed these people at the beginning, thinking them lazy, rude Americans. Now when he gazed down at Bertha’s mischievous wink, at Trixie’s awkward wave, and at Carly’s loving sincerity, he knew they had a special place in his heart. Guilt mixed with melancholy trickled through him. He hated asking them for help during their time off, but the fate of his winery now rested on their shoulders.
Ms. Maxhammer took the stage and turned on the mic. ‘At the grand conclusion of this wonderful tour, I must ask you one more favor. Listen carefully, for you will have to give up your remaining days in Italy to make this happen, and none of you are under contract to do so. These are your days off to spend as you will.’ She paused, letting the moment sink in. The room grew so silent he could have heard a cell phone vibrate in someone’s pocket.
Ms. Maxhammer knew how to create anticipation. She tapped her fingers on the podium, then continued. ‘It has come to my attention that our wonderful tour guide, Michelangelo, needs our help.’
‘Anything we can do.’ Bertha waved her hand. ‘He can stay with me if he needs a room.’ Her friend Trudy covered her mouth.
Ms. Maxhammer raised a hand to silence the growing murmurs. ‘It’s nothing like that. At least not yet.’ She pursed her lips. ‘Turns out he’s not an experienced tour guide.’
Hushed mumbles and a few grunts of disapproval surrounded them.
‘I knew it!’ Reena pointed at him. ‘I knew that “Brotherhood of the Manifesto” was crap.’
Michelangelo winced. Maybe he had gone a little overboard.
Mrs. Maxhammer raised her hand. ‘We’re not here to hang him, we’re here to help him. He’s done a wonderful job as our tour guide, and I want you to take that into account.’
A few people nodded in agreement.
Mrs. Maxhammer touched the gaudy pearls at her neck. ‘He took this job because his winery—one that has been in his family for generations—is in danger.’
Gasps rang out, followed by more mutterings. Trixie pushed through the crowd. ‘Ms. Maxhammer, how can we help?’
‘He needs to raise money to purchase the land, or it will be leveled and made into condos.’
‘No way.’ Trixie twisted her hair around her finger.
‘Why didn’t he tell us?’ Al shouted out from the back.
Ms. Maxhammer pursed her lips and gave Michelangelo a knowing look. ‘He didn’t want to burden you with his problems.’ She gestured toward Carly. ‘Carly Davis has proposed a magnificent idea to help him and give her and Alaina another chance at their aria. But it would take all of you to agree to make it happen.’
‘What is it?’ Bertha chewed her lower lip.
Ms. Maxhammer spread her hands like a magic trick. ‘A benefit concert at Michelangelo’s vineyard Thursday night. Proceeds will go to the restoration of his property and the lease.’
Murmurs echoed throughout the orchestra. Melody spoke in hushed tones with Wolf. Al scratched his head and Trixie’s parents whispered excitedly in each other’s ears. Embarrassment crept up Michelangelo’s neck to his cheeks. These were professional musicians. They hardly ever played for free.
Ms. Maxhammer tapped her finger on the mic, silencing the talking. ‘Since I’d have to get into advertising this right away, I must see now, by a show of hands, how many of you would be willing to add yet another concert—a free concert, mind you—to the tour?’
Bertha put her hand up first, followed by Trixie and her parents.
‘Well, heck, I’m not going to the beach by myself.’ Bertha’s friend Trudy came next.
Maestro Braun stood from his table, followed by Carly’s bff, Melody. One by one, the entire orchestra joined in.
Even Al raised him hand. ‘One more for good time’s sake.’
Warmth spread through Michelangelo’s chest, followed by guilt and embarrassment. Boy, had he misjudged them.
Al shouted over, ‘Does that mean we get a free bottle of wine?’
‘Absolutely.’ Michelangelo glowed with positive warmth. After all he’d been through this was like a beacon in a dark and scary storm and he had Carly to thank for it. His gaze settled on her as she held her hand up higher than the rest. ‘Everyone gets a bottle of wine.’
Ms. Maxhammer touched the mic again. ‘Well, now—a unanimous vote. Everything is settled. Tomorrow I’ll make the arrangements with the media.’ She turned to Carly and Michelangelo and winked. ‘You two are free to get over there in the morning and start setting up. I’ll handle Alaina.’
‘No I’ll do it.’ Carly interjected with a strong determination that surprised him.
Ms. Maxhammer raised both eyebrows.
Carly’s face softened. ‘I’ve broken her trust, and I want to apologize. I want to make things right between us. After all, we have to play together for this plan to succeed. There’s no way we’re going to produce beautiful music if we hate each other.’
‘Very well.’ Mrs. Maxhammer nodded as if impressed. ‘She’s requested her own room, so you’ll have to ask her to come in.’
‘Great.’ Carly breathed heavily. He admired her for her determination. Only a truly brave woman would stand up to make things right.
Mrs. Maxhammer touched Carly’s arm gently. Amusement danced in her eyes. ‘Good luck.’
*****
Carly took a deep breath and knocked on the door to Alaina’s room. When no one answered, she tried again, this time louder. ‘It’s Carly. Open the door.’
Silence. This would be harder than she thought. Carly steeled her nerves. ‘Alaina, I’m sorry.’
More silence.
‘I should have told you from the start I had feelings for Michelangelo, but at first I thought he was with you, so I tried to convince myself I didn’t like him.’
Still silent. Was she even in there?
‘I have another way for you to get the review you want.’
The door opened. Alaina stared back at her with mascara-smeared eyes. She wore a silky robe—thankfully covering her sleepwear. ‘How?’
‘I’ve spoken with Mrs. Maxhammer and planned another concert.’
Alaina shrugged. ‘It doesn’t matter. The aria has never sounded good. It will just be another embarrassment.’
The fact that she came to answer the door gave Carly hope. ‘You don’t know that.’
She leaned on the doorway. At least she wasn’t slamming the door in her face. ‘What makes you think this will be any different?’
‘It will be different if you want it to be different.’ Carly stepped toward her and lowered her voice. ‘We’ve had this weird situation with Michelangelo between us and it’s affected the way we’ve played together.’
‘I’ll say.’ She snorted.
Frustration bristled the hairs on Carly’s neck. Getting Alaina to forgive her was like climbing an unscaleable mountain. She ran her hands through her hair. ‘If we can forgive each other, then we’ll play better together.’
Alaina shrugged, glancing at her as though she was the enemy. ‘What are you going to steal next? My dress?’
‘No, you can have that.’ Carly smiled. Get to the truth of the matter. ‘I hadn’t realized we’d become friends. But, when I saw the hurt in your face, I felt guilty—like I’d betrayed someone close to me—a friend. We’ve spent a lot of time together, and I know it’s been hard at times. We’re not exactly two peas in a pod.’
A small smile worked its way onto Alaina’s lips. ‘No, we’re not.’
‘But, we’ve learned to get along together, and I think we can learn to play together as well. You want to return to America with a favorable review don’t you?’
Alaina nodded. ‘It’s why I came on this trip. My career’s been stagnant for a long time and I need something to propel it forward.’
Carly knew about career all too well. ‘That I can understand.’ She reached over and touched Alaina’s arm. ‘I want that for you, too. I want to make things right between us, if you’ll let me.’
Alaina nodded slowly. ‘Maybe I don’t need love right now. Maybe all I need is a friend.’
Carly sniffed back her own tears. ‘That’s what I need, too.’
*****
Apprehension hung over Carly as she and Michelangelo sped down the rain-slicked highway in his red Fiat. She owed it to Mrs. Maxhammer, Alaina, the rest of the orchestra, and to him to make sure this concert was a success. ‘Something bothering you?’ He glanced at her from the driver’s side.
She folded and unfolded her hands in her lap. ‘It’s just that we have less than twenty-four hours to put on a successful event on a massive scale. What if no one comes?’
‘Then, you’ve done your best to save something that can’t be saved.’ Michelangelo gave her a warm smile, albeit sad. ‘I appreciate everything you and your orchestra are doing for me.’
‘It’s the least I can do.’ Too caught up in her own gig world, Carly had never really helped anyone with any cause before. It felt so good to be able to support someone else, someone she had growing feelings for. Those feelings felt blissful as well. She had no idea where they’d go, but right now she wanted to experience every moment with Michelangelo that she could. It seemed like their moments together were just as numbered as the ones the winery had.
They sped across the rolling hills outside Milan onto a windy, overgrown driveway. Carly had enough of an imagination to see what the drive could look like once the hedges were trimmed back and the sidewalks repaired. Beautiful mosaics of people enjoying wine in the countryside lined the walls, illuminated in the morning sunlight.
They crested a ridge and the rows of vines came into view. Carly gasped. ‘It’s gorgeous.’ Normally, she wasn’t one to notice landscapes, but Michelangelo’s story had gripped her heart. This land had belonged to his ancestors, his parents, and now him.
Michelangelo winked. ‘You’ve seen nothing yet.’
They wove through the vineyard to a large estate made from beige stucco, red brick, and stone. It reminded her of the mansion in the Godfather movie, with a fountain in the center of a circular drive. Despite being ostentatious and bucolic, there was a timelessness and homey quality to the grounds. An easy, relaxed vibe came over her; she felt she could vacation here for a very, very long time.
‘This is all yours?’
‘Until the end of the week, yes.’ Michelangelo parked the car and looked over at her. ‘It’s nice to see you here, like I’m bringing home the last piece of the puzzle.’
Excitement swelled up inside her. What exactly did he mean by that? Not willing to confront that topic just yet, she covered the serious nature of the conversation with a joke. ‘Hopefully, you’ll be bringing home much more than that.’
He laughed and turned off the ignition. ‘You’re right. Come, let’s tell my secretary, Isabella, the bad news.’
‘The bad news?’ Did he have one more lady up his sleeve? ‘You mean the good news, right?’
He laughed. ‘Watch her face when she realizes just how many people are coming.’
‘Oh.’ Relieved, Carly opened her door and stepped out. The fresh air of the countryside washed over her. She span around in the drive, feeling as though she had walked into a fairytale. Michelangelo had grown up here, so this place was an integral part of him. Getting to know the winery was like discovering a whole new side of him, a side that drew her further in.
They walked to the office beside the main building. ‘You sure she’ll be working this early in the morning?’
‘Knowing Isabella, she’ll come in at dawn to make sure the last crates are packaged and ready to go for today’s deliveries.’
‘That’s dedication.’
Michelangelo showed her to the door. ‘Her whole family has lived on the vineyard for generations, and her husband works in the fields, so any investment she makes is in her own family’s future.’
‘I see.’ Carly hadn’t thought of all the other people who depended on this winery. Heck, it must employ hundreds of people. Saving the winery meant saving their jobs as well.
Carly walked into an overstuffed office, filled with crates of wine, piles of paperwork and filing cabinets. A woman so pregnant Carly worried she’d have the baby right then sat behind a desk, illuminated by the fluorescent glow of a computer screen. She gazed up from her work and a smile stretched across her face. ‘Michelangelo.’
‘Isabella.’ Michelangelo gestured to Carly. ‘I’d like you to meet Carly Davis.’
Isabella rose while holding her belly. She gave Carly an interesting look of appraisal and smiled even wider. ‘Signorina.’
‘Nice to meet you.’
Michelangelo took Isabella’s arm to steady her. Carly guessed she was going to need it. ‘Carly’s here to help us save the winery.’
Isabella placed her hand on her heart. ‘Mio Dio! You don’t say.’
He nodded. ‘She’s invited her whole orchestra to give a benefit concert here…Thursday night.’
Isabella froze and panic widened her gaze. ‘This Thursday night? That’s in a little over twenty-four hours!’
Michelangelo found her purse. ‘I know. That’s why we’re here. We’re going to help as much as we can. But you, young lady, should stay right here.’
She settled back into her computer seat. ‘Fine. But, if this thing’s tomorrow night, you’re going to need all the help you can get. Rodolfo will be here any minute to start work in the fields. He can help you get set up.’
Michelangelo rubbed his chin. ‘We’ll have to bring out all of the plastic chairs we used for your wedding, along with the event tent out back in the barn.’
Isabella’s fingers flew over the keyboard. ‘I’ll send an e-mail to the team. They can start setting up right away.’
‘Setting up for what?’ A wispy, age-wizened voice called from the back of the room.
Carly whirled around.
A ghostly woman leaned on the doorframe, a pink nightgown clinging to her bony frame. Her hair rose in gray wisps on her head, and she had Michelangelo’s dark, deep-set amber-blue eyes. Compassion swirled through Carly as she remembered what he’d told her of his mother’s Alzheimer’s. To hear it was one thing, but to see the beautiful woman who’d raised him reduced to a waif of a memory sent empathy straight to her heart.
Michelangelo ran to her side, hoisting her up. ‘Mamma, I’d like you to meet someone very special to me. This is Carly.’