Rachel blinked when Giovanni laughed, the sound low and husky. It was the first time she’d heard him laugh without mockery, and there was something in his voice, something in his amusement that thrilled her, making her flush with pleasure, her skin tingling, her body responding. It took so little for him to wake her up, make her come alive.
“You have a sense of humor,” he said.
“Not according to my mother.” But her lips curved wryly. “She thought I needed a sense of humor, at least when it came to Juliet.”
“How so?”
“I think she expected me to enjoy Juliet’s adventures and triumphs more. Instead I was me. Difficult, prickly porcupine Rachel.” She tried to smile again, but it felt tight and uncomfortable. “And to be fair, I wasn’t amused by Juliet. She was a lot of work and demanded a lot of Mother’s time. Or maybe Mother just preferred to focus on Juliet. Juliet was the beautiful daughter after all, and charming and admired by many. It gave my mother great pleasure to show her off.”
“Was your moth
er beautiful?”
“No. She looked like me.”
“You are beautiful.”
Rachel sputtered. “Hardly. I’m fairly utilitarian, but that’s okay. I’ve had twenty-eight years to come to terms with my attractiveness, or lack of—”
“Are you being serious?”
“Yes, and I don’t want compliments. I don’t need them. But I have a mirror, and a phone. I’m on social media. I know what beautiful is, and I know what society likes—”
“Society!” he scoffed. “And social media? You allow such things to influence you?”
“I know what’s beautiful. Classical features. High cheekbones. Full, plumped lips. Flawless skin. I don’t have any of that. My nose is too long, my mouth is too wide, my jaw is too strong, my eyes are a little too close—” She flushed, appalled that she’d said so much.
“I don’t agree with you. Not at all.”
“I’m not surprised. We don’t agree on almost anything.” She turned away, walking with Michael to the curtained window. She’d pushed the heavy silk drapes open earlier so she could see out. The tall houses across the narrow canal were dark but streetlights illuminated the sidewalk and cast a reflecting glimmer on the water. Venice looked so mysterious at night, with its labyrinth of canals and bridges, arches and hidden squares. It would be fun to explore the city at night, maybe even take one of those touristy ghost tours. Not that she wanted to encounter any ghosts.
“Are you really in danger of losing your job?” he asked, breaking the silence.
Rachel drew a slow breath, and then nodded. “I’ve used up all my sick days and vacation days, floating days and every unpaid leave day I could take. But management wants me back, or they need to hire someone else.”
“Would you really miss work if they let you go?”
She glanced at him over her shoulder. “I love planes. I really like my job. It’s exciting to be in the same field as my father. Admittedly, I’m not an aeronautical engineer, but I have his same passion for flight...it’s exhilarating.”
“So you really don’t want me to support you. You don’t want to stay home.”
She hesitated. “Does that make me a bad woman?”
“Of course not.”
“Did your mother work?”
“No.” He laughed, a low mocking sound. “Her job was to look beautiful and spend money. She did both, quite well.”
“Have any of your girlfriends worked?”
He took his time answering, and when he did, he was brief. “I don’t really have girlfriends.”
“No? What do you have?”
“Mistresses.”
“How does a mistress differ from a girlfriend?”