Taming Mariella (15 page)

T
wo hours later, Mariella sat in Ian’s study and they both stared at Sylvester and Candy, who lay together on the rug.

“You could keep her,” Mariella said.

“Keep her? Look at me. Do I look like the kind of guy who would own a Chihuahua that has more clothes than I do?”

“I would take her but my schedule can be hectic.”

“So take her with you. She’s small enough to fit in your makeup case.”

“Yes, but if I took her Sylvester would be lonely.”

“He’s got me.”

“You’re not the same.”

“Hmm.”

“Think about it.”

“I’m not dressing her. Lily will have to do that.”

After the Candy incident Ian thought his problems were over but when Mariella learned that the photos had already been sent to the layout designer, she demanded to be part of the selection process. Ian refused and after a heated debate she had to admit defeat. The winter holiday season arrived. Gen and Josh went to Colorado together and though Mariella invited Ian to spend time with her family he declined.

Mariella tried to convince him otherwise, not wanting to admit how much she’d miss him, but he wouldn’t budge so she was forced to leave him. Ian liked to be alone at the holidays. Or at least he used to be. When New Year’s Eve came, Ian sat all alone in his family room in front of the TV with just Sylvester and Candy. He wished he’d taken Mariella’s offer. “Next year will be different.”

He was about to open his second can of beer when the doorbell rang. “Who is it?” he called.

“Mariella.”

“Who?” he said, not sure he’d heard correctly.

“Mariella.”

He couldn’t open the door fast enough and twice fumbled with the lock. When he finally got the door open he saw Mariella holding a large box.

“What is that?”

“Don’t ask, just help me with it.”

He took it from her. “Is this my lump of coal?”

She laughed. “No, take it into the kitchen.”

He did then pulled her in his arms and kissed her hello. “Now tell me what this is.”

She opened the box and pulled out containers of food. “Isabella made grilled chicken, Gabby made whipped sweet potatoes, Daniella made asparagus with cheese sauce and I made the pumpkin pie.”

He picked up the pie. “Then I’ll have to try this first.”

“You’re lucky I was able to get you a slice. It is delicious.”

He grinned. “I admire your modesty.”

“Personally I find modesty an accepted form of lying. So what did you buy me?”

“For what?”

“You didn’t buy me anything?”

“I’ll take you shopping tomorrow.”

“Good.” She handed him another box. “Here’s your gift.”

“Is it a shirt?”

“No.”

“A tie?”

“No, just open it.”

He ripped open the box and pulled out an antique camera.

“Do you like it?” Mariella asked anxiously when he continued to just stare at it. “My sister Isabella helped me select it.”

“It’s beautiful. I just have to think of the right place to put it.”

Mariella had no problem directing him where it would best be displayed. She decided that a shelf in his study was best. Ian didn’t argue. He just told her to retrieve a letter from his desk. She did and noticed it had her name on it. She discovered that it contained a coupon for a week’s pass at an exclusive spa. Mariella thanked him in the best way she could think of and they welcomed in the New Year in each other’s arms.

In the following weeks, they were careful not to be seen too much together although some papers had already hinted at their relationship with such titles as “Guess Who’s Turning Over in His Grave?” and “Family Portrait.” They turned heads everywhere they went, sometimes because people knew who they were, other times because people couldn’t help staring at such a striking pair. Ian got used to the attention, very aware of how Mariella commanded people’s attention, especially men. Although he nearly broke the face of a photographer who took a picture of them as they left a movie theater. Mariella persuaded him not to.

Mariella was too content with her life to worry about what the papers said. Her relationship with Ian continued to grow and only a few weeks after returning to New York she’d been commissioned for a book project and magazine work. Ian kept busy with
Flash
and the upcoming gallery event in spring. He helped Mariella with her craft and they spent time together in his darkroom and on his computer. They would take excursions out of the city and photograph whatever interested them, then go home and critique their efforts. All was well except Ian’s occasional calls from Shirley.

“Do you know what people are saying?” she demanded.

“Yes, Mom.” He glanced over at Mariella who sat in his study buttoning up Candy’s sweater.

“Some think you’re fulfilling an Oedipus desire.”

“Don’t be disgusting.”

“I don’t approve of this. I hope you’re still not thinking of marrying her.”

“Bye, Mom.” He hung up the phone and stared at Mariella. That was exactly what he planned to do, but he’d ask her at the right time.

In February, Yolanda and her family came to visit Ian. Mariella was excited to see them and invited the family to dinner at her place. The next day she took the two girls shopping and gave them tips on how to select fabric, look for tailored pieces and what not to buy. While Tatiana showed her enthusiasm, Hannah looked bored. Even when Mariella tried to show them makeup tips, Hannah preferred to search the apartment for a missing earring. She wasn’t sorry to be dropped off at her parents’ hotel.

Mariella’s relationship with Ian progressed more smoothly. They spent much of their time traveling to museums and galleries. On one weekend, Ian called Mariella and told her to pack a bag for at least two nights. He picked her up and drove to Washington, D.C., where they visited several museums including the Spy Museum and the National Gallery of Art. All too soon winter turned into spring and Mariella decided to visit her sister Isabella in upstate New York.

“Are you sure you don’t mind me coming?” Ian asked.

“No, I want you to meet them.”

Ian could gauge the distance to the house by the excitement on Mariella’s face. He was better able to read her moods these days. Someone else would see a cool woman in a sports jacket and jeans, but he saw the slight softening of her mouth and the brightness of her eyes. She looked like a young girl on a trip to a fantasy land. He hid a smile. “You’re really happy about this. But you saw your sister in December.”

“I know, but I never tire of seeing them. I can’t wait to surprise her.”

Ian looked at her, alarmed. “She doesn’t know you’re coming?”

“No.”

“She might not be home.”

“She’ll be home. She would have just finished playing the piano for Nicodemus.”

“Nicodemus?”

“Yes.”

Before he could ask more questions she said, “Turn here.”

He did and was soon greeted by the sight of a large Victorian house. He parked and Mariella jumped out of the car and raced up the stairs then stopped and stood in front of the door.

Ian slowly climbed the stairs, sending her an odd look. “Why won’t you knock?”

“Hear that piano?”

He nodded, the melodious sound coming through the open window.

“I don’t want to disturb her. She’ll be done in a minute.”

“But—”

“Nicodemus doesn’t like it when a song doesn’t reach the end.” She tilted her head and listened. “There’s the last note.” She raised her hand and knocked. Moments later a petite woman answered. Her eyes widened and she threw herself at Mariella as though she hadn’t seen her in years.

“Mariella!” she said, her slender arms wrapped around her sister in a big hug. She stepped back. “I can’t believe you’re here. It’s so good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too.”

The woman directed her bright brown eyes on Ian. “And who might you be?”

Mariella turned to him. “This is Ian Cooper.”

She shook his hand. “Yes, I know. I was only being polite.” Although Isabella didn’t have her sister’s exquisite beauty, she was captivating and her intelligent, assessing gaze made heat steal into his cheeks.

He released her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Thank you.”

“You play the piano beautifully.”

“Hmm.” She turned and looked down at the white cat who sat in the middle of the hallway. “Tell that to him.”

Ian looked around. “To who?”

She pointed at the cat. “Nicodemus.”

“You play for a cat?”

Isabella raised a finger to her lips. “Shh, I’m not always sure that he is one.”

Ian sent Mariella a curious look, but she just grinned. The cat looked up at them, then walked past and out the door.

“Don’t ask, come on in.”

“Where’s Kati?” Mariella asked.

“Out with her dad. They’ll be back soon.” She looped her arm through Mariella’s. “Now you have to tell me all that you’ve been up to.”

Ian followed the pair into the living room, but they talked so fast he couldn’t catch what they were saying. Instead he looked around the house at the pictures on the wall. He saw four young women in front of Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament. Another photograph was of a young woman who looked like a chubby version of Mariella, an older man and two small children. He spotted some other pictures of Mariella and her three sisters with their father. What he found curious was that in most of the pictures, Mariella was either on her father’s lap or at his side. Mariella was as exquisite then as she was now, but looked a lot happier as though the world was her private playground. Interestingly Ian didn’t see that happy girl in later pictures. It was as if that little girl was taken away after the death of her father.

Ian turned when he heard the front door close.

“Alex,” Isabella called. “We have visitors.”

“Who?”

“Mariella and Ian. Ian’s around here somewhere. I’m afraid we made him feel a bit excluded.”

Ian knew that was his cue to emerge from the hallway. He walked into the room and saw a tall, strikingly handsome young man holding a little girl. The little girl had the Duvall look—her features both broad and fine, clear brown eyes surrounded by a perfect row of curled lashes.

Isabella rushed up to him and pulled him forward. He was too stunned by her boldness to refuse. “Alex, this is Ian Cooper. Ian, my husband Alex.”

They shook hands.

“And this is Kati.”

Ian went to shake her hand, but she moved away, and hugged her father’s neck. “She takes a while to warm up to people,” Alex said.

Ian shrugged. “That’s okay.”

“Cooper, your name sounds familiar to me. Were you the one who did that feature story in
Time
about the condition of Aborigines in Australia?”

“That was a while back, but yes, that was me.”

“Impressive piece of journalism. It actually encouraged people to see if they could help make a difference. They’re developing schools in the area from what I understand.”

“Yes, you’re right.”

Alex sat down, placing Kati on his lap. “What are you working on now?”

“Nothing.”

Mariella filled in for him. “He is the owner of
Flash
magazine.”

Alex nodded. “Oh.”

Ian saw some of his interest dim and sighed. He saw the little girl wiggle off her father’s lap then find her doll in the corner and start to talk to it. “It started out as my father’s company,” he said, feeling the need to explain.

“Really,” Alex said with renewed interest. “And you took over?”

“Yes, he asked me to.”

“He must be proud.”

“He’s dead.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

Isabella hit him in the arm. “I told you that.”

Alex rubbed his arm. “I forgot.”

“You weren’t listening.”

He grinned. “Yes, that too.”

Mariella spoke up. “His father was Jeremiah Cooper, the renowned photographer. But of course I wouldn’t have expected you to know him.”

Alex raised a brow. “Because I just have money, but no class?”

“Exactly.”

“Do you want me to share what I think about you?”

“Alex,” Isabella said in warning.

“Please do,” Mariella said. “Enlighten me.” She crossed her legs and leaned forward. “I always find it fascinating to know what thoughts you manage to put together when you’re not busy hammering something.”

“I enjoy hammering. I just pretend I’m closing your mouth.”

“Stop it, you two,” Isabella said. “You’re making Ian nervous. He doesn’t know you’re joking.”

Alex looked at Mariella. “Are we joking?”

Mariella checked her manicure. “I was being serious. I think you’re uncouth.”

“And I think you’re a spoiled brat.”

Ian watched the interplay of teasing with fascination. He’d never experienced such banter in his own family. His family used cutting remarks and put-downs when they spoke to each other. “How long have you known Mariella?”

“Too long.”

Isabella hit him. “Alex, stop it.”

“You’re going to leave me with bruises.”

“Then behave yourself.”

“I’m just answering honestly.”

“Careful,” Mariella said in a sweet tone. “I knew you when you were still sucking on your mother’s—”

Alex glared at her. “Watch it.”

Isabella smiled at Ian. “Just ignore them. We basically all grew up together. And as you can see we get along famously.” Isabella stood. “I’m going to call Velma. You two must stay for dinner.”

They did. Not that Ian felt they had a chance to say no. He tried to be cordial though he felt a little uneasy when Alex’s mother Velma arrived. The older woman watched him with suspicious eyes. She dressed well, but had the hands of a woman who’d worked all her life. He attempted to relieve any of her suspicions by joining in, but most of the time he remained an observer as they all talked and laughed. They sat for a long time gathered around the dinner table piled high with a selection of food: jerk chicken, a pot of greens, jambalaya, done right, fried plantains and rice. During dinner there was a lively discussion between Mariella, Isabella and Alex about their other siblings. Ian was captivated by it all.