A Life Sublime Read Online Free PDF Page A

laughed, “Yes. Georgina said you are an avid drinker of tea. You have a wonderful view of the sea from your balcony. I thought you would enjoy your tea and some peace and quiet. The younger ones are rather loud.”
    She tugged at her earlobe. “I had no idea, thank you. Sounds very nice.”
    He held out a hand toward her. “Give me your cup.” She handed over the mug and he dropped a tea bag in it.
    “What are you drinking?” she asked into the silence.
    “Black tea with a little something extra.”
    “Alcohol?” she wrinkled her nose in disapproval.
    “A little.”
    “That won’t help you sleep,” she warned.
    “It is a temporary solution,” he said gently. He handed the cup back to her and watched her sip. There was an understated elegance to the woman as she lifted the cup to her mouth, resting the edge on her bottom lip which had a rather tantalizing divide in the middle. Salt and pepper chin length hair sat in immaculate waves, framing a strong square jaw dusted in rich cocoa skin. The grey robe skimmed exaggerated curves that boasted femininity in the extreme – the femininity that had defined Hollywood’s Golden Age. He hadn’t been alone with a woman in decades – certainly not one who looked like her.
    She lowered long, sooty lashes to the cup and sighed with appreciation.
    “Mmm. Good tea. Thank you.”
    He dipped his head toward her. “Anything else I can give you?”
    Wariness passed through her chestnut dark eyes. “What are you saying?”
    “A piece of cake, some biscotti, a slice of cheese?”
    “Everything about you lot is food,” she told him with a shake of her head.
    “I am sorry, are you not from Ghana?”
    Belinda burst out laughing. “Cheeky man. I’ve had plenty to eat.” She indicated the doorway. “I’ll just take myself off. Goodnight.”
    “Goodnight, Belinda.”
    She stopped, then turned back to him. “You need to talk to Nicholas and Paul.”
    “About?”
    “Their mother.”
    Massimo halted, his heart suddenly frozen with fear. “I have discussed it with them.”
    “There’s some guilt there, for feeling sad that she’s no longer here. They need to know it’s natural and they aren’t betraying you or some such nonsense.”
    “She has been dead for well over a year.”
    Belinda paused. “The first year after my mother’s death, I was at work and someone said something to me my mother used to say all the time and I was mad. A few days ago, I was packing and I saw an old photograph of my parents and I cried the whole day. The whole day. Time doesn’t matter when it comes to your parents. I’m sure Nicholas is thinking about what his mother would have been like if she had been here today. Even if he didn’t want her to be here. So talk to him. I’ve done what I can, but he’s your son. You should know him better.”
    “I know him almost too well. It is a difficult conversation,” he admitted. He didn’t think anyone read his sons as well as their respective women did. How had she even begun to figure the complications of his family’s dynamic in such a short space of time? Clever woman.
    “Because you don’t want to paint her as the bad person? People say you shouldn’t speak ill of the dead. I say tell the truth. The dead will know what God will tell them. So start talking.”
    The voice of wisdom. He had been missing the counsel of sensibility for some time. “Thank you.”
    She sent him a smile and made her way to her room. He didn’t miss her yelling, “Nicholas Da Canaveze, ah, what’s wrong with you! Your bedroom is not this way!”
     

     
    Poor Fiore, Gina thought as they cleaned the kitchen until it sparkled and not a speck of palm oil marred her father-in-law’s perfect counters. They had been working since seven in the morning but all the food was cooked. The fish, caught and cleaned an hour before, was marinating and ready for a simple grilling. And when Fiore had tasted the palm soup, her face had lit up around a thousand