STANDING ON THE CURB, Ann watched the sign painter putting the finishing touches on the name, ANN COULTER REALTY.
“There it is, lady. All finished.”
“Finished?” Ann asked. It was only the beginning. “It looks wonderful, Mr. Petroni.”
She and Guido had been working like demons. People had been demanding his services ever since they had seen his work on Ann’s houses, but he had shoved aside his other projects to do Ann’s new office. As they worked, other merchants in the area dropped by to welcome her. Their support helped make up somewhat for Violet’s hostility. She had become resentful ever since Ann announced she was leaving. Seeing Violet’s cold expression, Ann had impulsively reached across the desk and clasped the older woman’s hands.
“Violet, I will never be able to thank you enough for giving me my first job. You were the first person to have faith in me. You gave me my chance. I’ll never forget it, or how much I’ve learned from you.”
Violet had tried to control her envy. Good God! Little Ann Coulter was about to become her primary competitor. And to think that when Ann had applied for the job, she had been an insignificant housewife in a dowdy, pale pink suit, clutching her handbag as though she were afraid it would be snatched from her. Violet sighed. She never lied to herself. Ann had always had the magic touch. If she hadn’t hired her, someone else would have.
“I’m happy to have helped you, Ann,” Violet was finally able to say. “I just hope you’re not making the mistake of your life.”
Ann had just smiled pleasantly. “Thank you, but I don’t think so.” Afterward though, she was happy to be so busy working with Guido on the office that she didn’t have time to dwell on Violet’s anger. Now, looking at the new gilt sign, she felt nothing could dampen her happiness.
“Guido,” she called. “Come look at this.”
He emerged from the back, brushing plaster from his Levi’s.
Usually, his eyes sparkled at the sight of her. But today he seemed sober and preoccupied. After admiring the sign, they went inside and he sat down at the battered oak worktable.
“Doughnut?” she asked.
“No, thank you.”
“What is it?” she asked, noticing his stare. “A smudge on my nose already?”
“No,” he said gravely, “I was just thinking how beautiful you are, Anna.”
“Guido …”Ann said, shaking her head. Since that night at Hampton House, Guido’s behavior had been meticulously correct, and Ann was careful to avoid any subject that might incite him. Only occasionally had she surprised a wistful look on his face, but today she saw that his eyes were dark with yearning.
“What is it?” she asked, hoping to defuse his mood.
“Anna.” He reached across the table as if to take her hand, then stopped, letting his hand slowly fall an inch short of hers. “Anna, I must tell you something. I am getting married next month.”
“Guido! Married? Why—why that’s wonderful! To whom?”
“Maria. I think you’ve seen her around my uncle’s store. She works for him sometimes now. Dark hair, not very tall….”
Ann remembered a shy Italian girl she had seen at Verona’s recently, who spoke not a word of English. Maria just smiled and shrugged her shoulders helplessly when Ann asked her a question. She had a pretty face and an incredibly voluptuous body. Even Ann couldn’t help but notice. And she was young, magnificently young….
“Well—that’s wonderful,” Ann repeated, wondering why she suddenly felt bereft. She didn’t want Guido’s attentions, did she?
“Anna.” The word was like a caress. “I don’t love her, you know. I don’t think I could ever love someone else as I love you.”
“Guido, you must not say these things to me!”
“Why must I not? They are true.”
“Because—”
“I know, it is impossible. But you know in your heart that I will always love you.”
“Then why are you marrying this girl? Someday you’ll meet someone and really fall in love.”
Guido thought back to the evening, several weeks before, when he had told his uncle that he was remodeling Ann’s office. Something of what he felt for her must have shown in his tone of voice, the excitement in his eyes, for his uncle had said, “My nephew, I must tell you. This woman is not for you.”
“Giuseppe! You insult Mrs. Coulter!” Guido sprang to his feet. “There is nothing, nothing whatever, between us!”
“I know,” Guiseppe said heavily. “What I tell you now is, there will never be! You must find a wife for yourself. It is time. It is not good for a man to be twenty-six and have no wife. You need to get married, have some bambinos. Then you will be happy.”
Guido paced the room angrily. Guiseppe watched him for a moment, then said, “How about you go out with Maria Spinelli? She is young, beautiful, and she likes you.”
“Maria? No thank you, Guiseppe. Don’t worry about me. I will find a wife when I am ready. When I fall in love.”
“No, Guido. The best way is to get married, then fall in love. You want a woman to cook, clean, have your bambinos, share your life with you. Maria, she is Italian. She understands you. She will make you a good wife.”
“It’s not enough that she cooks and cleans! There is more than that to marriage.”
“Guido, never get married for amore. That way leads to unhappiness. It does not last.” Guiseppe had continued to argue and threaten until Guido shouted, “Okay. I will take Maria out once. Just to make you happy. But that will be it, do you understand?”
Maria was a traditional Italian girl, newly arrived from Milano. She was more than ready to fall in love with the handsome, successful Guido. On his part, he found it unexpectedly pleasant to have a girl who looked up to him with such adoration.
He took her home for a family dinner and she got along well with his relatives. She helped his Aunt Rosa make the pasta and ladle out steaming marinara sauce. Slowly, his resistance weakened. What did it matter? He could never have Ann Coulter anyway.
Looking across the table at her now, he said, “I must have someone, cara mia—and I cannot have you.”
There was still a question in his words, but Ann could not answer it. It was right that Guido marry Maria. Undoubtedly he would make a woman very happy. And he was going to be even more successful. Still, there was no denying that Guido’s unqualified admiration was something she would miss. He had stirred feelings that had long since disappeared from her marriage.
She and Phillip attended the nuptial Mass as well as the rollicking Italian reception in the church basement. The bride, flushed and happy, clung to Guido’s arm throughout the evening. There was only one moment, as Guido, darkly handsome in his tuxedo, turned away from the altar, when his eyes met Ann’s. It seemed in that moment that he was conveying to her all the hopes and dreams he was renouncing in taking Maria as his wife.
Ann too felt the loss of inchoate hopes and dreams. But later, when she thought about it more logically, she knew that there never could have been anything between the two of them. It had been just a silly romantic yearning.
When she opened her office four weeks later, Ann had no time left for dreams. She barely had time even to enjoy the room she had decorated to please herself. The walls were robin’s-egg blue, the woodwork a pristine white. The carpeting was a deeper shade of blue, setting off shiny black lacquered desks and comfortable modern chairs upholstered in glove-soft leather. On the back wall was a spectacular papered mural of San Francisco, showing a cable car climbing a hill.
The only trouble was that she had so many clients that she was out showing houses almost all day.