Soft Focus by Christina Dennison

Author:Christina Dennison
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Italy, Istanbul, Fashion, photographer, travel
Publisher: Christina Dennison
Published: 2019-03-11T00:00:00+00:00

NONE OF THE ARTICLES she'd read, even the ones in the Corriere, had mentioned Bruno by name when discussing UniCredit's takeover of Ricci's bank, but she wasn't completely surprised when he called her. She remembered the strange pang she'd felt in the backseat after the opera, sitting beside him as the snow fell over Milan, the surprise, too, finding him in the stacks at her ridiculous party. Gallant, practical Bruno. The human briefcase.

"Francie." His voice was gentle. She expected it was always gentle, but she still wondered: how much did he know?

"Ciao, Bruno."

"I'm, uh, I'm in Milano for a few days. I thought you might be free for dinner."

She glanced at the calendar open on her desk. With Selim's visit the following week, she had a lot she needed to finish before she could take off three days to spend with him.

"I'm working late the whole week," she said. "I don't suppose you'd just want to have a drink later on?"

"That's fine—better, probably," he replied. "I'm up to my neck here anyway. Do you have any good takeout recommendations?"

She laughed. "That's all I've been doing lately, too."

"Well, when I see you, you'll have to tell me all about what's kept you so busy."

"Thursday night, then? Around nine, nine-thirty? Where are you staying?"

"The Park Hyatt, right near the office. Close to you?"

"Close enough. I have a couple places in mind," she said. "I'll text you Thursday and let you know where we should meet."

"We'll see you then. I'm looking forward to it." He said "we'll" and she assumed it was the royal we, an affectation carried over from his business life of team meetings and decisions by committee.

"Me too," she said, and as soon as the words had left her mouth she realized they were true.

On Thursday morning she showered and dressed more fastidiously than usual; she put on a new navy blue lace La Perla bra and thong set that she'd bought for when Selim came, a pretty sundress that showed off her tan legs and arms, tall cork wedges. She switched handbags from her workhorse Bottega Veneta hobo to a Fendi baguette that barely fit her phone and wallet, much less her sunglasses. She didn't have time for breakfast.

True to her promise, she worked straight through the day. She had a conference call with the editors of the Dubai project, finalizing the details of the shoot there. She met some of the girls at Vogue for lunch, and popped her head into Emanuele Farneti's office to say hi. On the tram back to her studio she sent Bruno a brief text: Tasca, tapas bar in Porta Ticinese.

Timo left the studio at 8:30pm. "It's getting dark outside," he told Francesca. "Go home."

"I'm leaving soon. I have to meet Bruno for drinks."

"Bruno?" Timo cocked an eyebrow at her.

"He's in town for the bank. He called, I felt like I should."

"Bruno who you kissed on the boat last year?"

"Bruno my childhood friend." She checked her phone. No messages. He hadn't cancelled.

"The one with the Milgauss.

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