Second Chances in Chianti (Escape to Tuscany Book 2) by T.A. Williams (best ereader under 100 TXT) 📗

His grin widened. ‘And Millie gets to fill your shoes – or rather, I should say your bed, alongside Richie.’

Alice wagged an admonitory finger across the table at Richie. ‘Make sure you treat her well, Richie, or you’ll have me to deal with.’

He looked back across at her with big hangdog eyes and she sighed inwardly. She knew she had to speak to him before leaving, to reinforce the message that he and she were history.

Chapter 11

The limo that collected Antonia and Alice to take them to Florence was driven by the same man who had met her at the airport. Although only four days earlier, so much seemed to have happened since then. Alice chatted to him in Italian, but she and Antonia, by tacit consent, made a point of not discussing the events of the past few days while they were in the car. He dropped them on the Lungarno and they strolled the short distance to the Uffizi through the crowded streets of the pedestrian zone that makes up almost all of Florence’s centro storico.

Alice had spent quite a few weeks in Florence in the course of her studies and she loved the city. The last time she had been here had been out of season and she had avoided the worst of the crowds, but even on a busy July day like today, the mass of humanity in the streets couldn’t conceal the sheer beauty of the place. As they crossed the Ponte Vecchio, they paused and looked down: even after yesterday’s rain, the level of the sluggish brown water of the river was still low. It was hard to imagine how it had risen so drastically back in 1966 and had submerged the very heart of the city, destroying thousands of irreplaceable treasures. On a hot, dry day like today, it seemed impossible.

Alice’s friend, Teresa, was waiting for them at a table outside a cafe in a little piazza just past the Uffizi Gallery, and Alice greeted her warmly. Teresa had been invaluable when Alice had been researching her doctoral thesis and it was wonderful to be able to give her the good news that she now had her PhD. Alice introduced Antonia and they chatted in English – which Teresa spoke fluently – for half an hour or so, before she led them over to the gallery, where they entered by a side door. Teresa excused herself, as she had an important meeting, and Alice took over guiding duties for Antonia.

Altogether they were in there for almost two hours and they still hadn’t covered half of all there was to see. They did, at least, see the most famous artworks, like Botticelli’s Birth of Venus and many more by a glittering pantheon of artists from Leonardo to Michelangelo, Bellini to Bronzino. Alice took particular pleasure in showing Antonia the real portrait of Eleanor of Toledo, telling her the story of the ‘practical’ test she had passed with flying colours at the auction house interview the previous week. By the time they emerged, they were both in a cultural and historical daze. Outside, in the late afternoon sunlight, Alice still felt as though she was in the Middle Ages – she almost expected to see the streets filled with gentlemen on horses and ladies wearing sweeping robes trimmed with intricate lace, instead of the innumerable tourists with their phones, taking selfie after selfie.

They went back to the same cafe and ordered long, cold drinks. Antonia stretched back in her seat and looked across at Alice, raising her glass in a little toast.

‘Thank you, Alice, from the bottom of my heart. Having my own personal guide to such a treasure house of masterpieces has been amazing. I would never have known the history behind these wonderful paintings and I have you to thank for making me understand what’s going on beneath the surface of the canvas, which is often almost as amazing as the artwork itself. I can understand now just why Renaissance art has got you under its spell. Compared to what we’ve just seen, a few romcoms seem so trivial somehow.’ She clinked her glass against Alice’s. ‘I wish you all the very best with your future career and – if you want my opinion – although you’ve always been an outstanding actress, you’ve chosen such a worthwhile subject to devote your life to. I just know you’ve made the right decision.’

Alice took a refreshing mouthful. ‘Thanks, Antonia, and I’ve enjoyed this afternoon every bit as much as you have. I’m sure you’re right: my heart’s firmly in the Renaissance and that’s just the way it is.’ In spite of her words, Alice couldn’t help feeling a tiny little shiver of regret at her rejection of a Hollywood career. The thought of a second chance had been tempting for a while, but art history really was the sensible option – and wouldn’t involve Zoë.

She went on to tell Antonia about the little house she had rented for the rest of July and her plan to take David to the Mona Lisa villa the next day. Antonia told her that she was leaving early next morning for a series of meetings in London, before flying back to the USA in a few days’ time. Inevitably, the subject then came round to Pals Forever and she told Alice how sorry she was that Conrad had not decided to have a change of heart.

‘It won’t be the same without you and Layla.’ Antonia shook her head ruefully. ‘And I’m not sure they’ll ever be able to find another writer with Benny’s talent. It’s such a shame.’

‘Why doesn’t Mr Chesterfield see that, Antonia? He’s a clever man and a smart businessman. Surely he can see he stands to lose an awful lot. And all for the sake of – please excuse me – a cow like Zoë. Yes, she’s a good director, probably a great director, but there have to be others.’

‘I’ve