Counterpoints Read online

  Counterpoints

  By Laura Rossi

  Cover by Domenico Maiorano

  To my family

  All facts, names and characters are fictional.

  Prologue

  “I can’t fucking believe it” said Marco.

  Isabella rolled her eyes but then smiled at her brother. After all, he was just being an overly excited teenager and apparently nowadays they liked to say fuck. A lot.

  “Cut the swearing, grandma is going to throw her fork at you!” said Emilia. She looked at the far end of the table to check what her grandma was up to. She was serving gnocchi to the whole family as any other Sunday lunch. Except that it was Christmas, so there was twice the amount of food on the table than usual.

  “When can I come visit you?” asked Marco, ignoring his sister Emilia. Actually, he probably hadn’t even heard her speak. Marco’s face was radiant. Isabella stared at him amused, it was almost as if he had gotten the job instead of her.

  “I haven’t even gone yet. Let me settle in and then I promise I’ll get you a pass for a race” Isabella smiled happily. She was so excited and so proud of herself for nailing the whole application process. It hadn’t been easy to get the job as assistant press agent for one of the major teams in the First Category car racing. She had spent months preparing for the interviews, making sure her CV sounded interesting enough, selecting the best articles she had written as a sports journalist. Isabella had had to go through a tough selection processes, together with hundreds of candidates and she just couldn’t forget how she had felt moments before stepping inside the room, where the interviews were being held. Inadequate. On the other side of the large marble table though, she had found the nicest supervisor and manager that she could have ever wished for. Hillary, a forty something press agent and head of the communication and marketing department for car racing MB team, had liked Isabella’s freshness and young age instantly. After reading and examining the material she had provided, she had asked her the big question.

  “You have a fantastic career ahead of you in the sports magazine you are currently working for. Why do you want this job?” she had put down her glasses, all ears, curious to hear Isabella’s motivation.

  “For several reasons” Isabella had sat straight in her chair and had cleared her throat. “I love writing, I love editing and photography, but I don’t like that my job is so static most of the time. I don’t like to sit on a chair, behind a desk. I like to move around and experience new things. This kind of job opens so many doors, it gives you the chance to work with professionals, to meet important people. And working for a team like MB in the automobile environment is such a privilege, no other career in this field could be so gratifying. For me at least.”

  “What If I were to say to you: I’m sorry, you didn’t get the job. All the best of luck” Hillary said, taking Isabella a little by surprised. She had looked interested moments before.

  “I’d say: thank you for the opportunity. I’ll see you on track anyway. I’ll apply for the job on another team” Isabella held her stare, trying to make her see how determined she was to work in that sector.

  Two days later she had received a phone call from the Communication and Marketing Office of the MB team, where a nice young lady informed her that she had gotten the job.

  Isabella could not wait to start.

  “So when do you start?” asked her mother, snapping her back to reality. Her mother had stopped eating her gnocchi and had a proud but sad look on her face. It was one thing to have her oldest daughter living and working just a hundred kilometers away in Rome, and totally another thing to know that she will be all over the world and away from home all the time. Her honey brown eyes gave her away. Isabella could see right through them, they had the same eyes the two of them, and both weren’t able to hide their emotions.

  “In February, but races start end of March. I’ll be going to their headquarters in England before then”

  “Don’t cry mom” Emilia teased.

  “Don’t be silly, why would I? I am so happy for her. She is only thirty-two and already on top of the world” said their mother. And it was true, every word of it was the truth. She was proud and happy for her eldest. Isabella had had a fantastic carrier in PR, media relations and as a journalist so far. She had had the chance to work with some great people and sportsmen along the path. This was the cherry on the top.

  “Wait. Hold on here. Did you just say you’ll get me A pass to A race? One? Just one?” Marco screeched.

  The next half an hour was all about the Championship and which was the best team and whom Isabella had to get an autograph from. Her uncle wanted to know exactly what her job was about. She would be working on a project created by the MB team Communication and Marketing office, which involved writing in the team’s blogs and social networks, as well as assisting the drivers during interviews and during the whole racing weekend. Her cousins wanted to know what her life was going to be like. She would have to travel all year and live in hotels most of the time and find a place in London, as that was going to be her base.

  There was only one person at the table who was silent and that was her father. He had not said a word. He had finished his meal and had never looked up from his plate. Except now. He was looking at her daughter in the eyes, but still he wasn’t saying anything. He didn’t have to. He looked worried, but he would never say anything to any of his children, particularly to Isabella. They hadn’t said a word to each other over the past three years and didn’t think Isabella cared to know his opinion. Not after what had happened between them.

  “What about Salvo?” her grandma’s question hit the table like a bomb. Everyone went dead silent and stared at Isabella. As usual when all the attention was on her, Isabella’s cheeks reddened. How was she going to get out of this without criticism? Impossible.

  “What about him?” she asked clearing her throat.

  “What did he say about your new job?” her grandma insisted. She wanted an answer. Isabella looked around again, her cousins were smirking, her uncle and aunt were looking at each other, doing their best to hold back a grin. Knowing them and how envious they were, they were probably pleased that someone had brought up a negative thing about her new job. Nice relatives, really.

  What about Salvo? They had been a couple for three years, sure they had their fun together, they liked and cared for each other. Until recently.

  “We broke up” there it was, the real bomb.

  Her uncle laughed then and got a dirty look from Isabella and the rest of her family.

  “What’s so funny?” she asked.

  “Nothing” but something was obviously on his mind, as he reached for a piece of bread to clean up the tomato sauce in his plate and nudged his wife.

  She could hear them snickering. God, did she really have to do this? Discuss her private life with her extended family? On Christmas day?

  “How come? You two looked lovely together…” said her grandma. She had stopped serving food now but still hadn’t touched her plate. The lines around her eyes made her look sad and tired. Isabella could not help but noticed how suddenly old she looked.

  Isabella was not going to answer that, she just shrugged and begged her sister for a change of subject. She just hoped that her grandma would settle for a smile and a change of conversation. After all it was Christmas, the family had been reunited under one roof, there was no need to brag about her job and her love life. What about Emilia’s internship at the hospital? What about her cousin Gianni’s degree, or her uncle’s olive trees? Surely, she could distract them with something else. After all as a communication and marketing assistant, it was her job to divert the attention on whatever she deemed right and convenient. Especially convenient!

  Lu
ckily, somebody had already changed the topic. The room was back to all knives and forks sounds hitting the plates and chit chatter. Nevertheless she could not help but feel pissed off at her uncle. She looked over and saw him staring at her with a wide grin. He then shook his head. That was so much like him, being immature and sneaky and judgmental.

  “Salvo didn’t like the idea of having his woman run around the world for a year. Hell, I wouldn’t!” her uncle was saying to Isabella’s grandmother.

  “Excuse me?” she intervened. How dare he speak about her life, like he knew anything about it. Since she could remember, her uncle- her mother’s brother- had gone out of his way to embarrass her and make her feel uncomfortable, acting like a total jerk. When she had dyed her hair for the first time, he had had something to say. When she had chosen to go abroad for a summer and learn English, he tried to bring her down saying that three months wouldn’t be enough anyway. Waste of time, waste of money.

  Isabella could go on and on, back in time, her memories were full of stories like that which involved her uncle.

  At first she thought he was just mean, then growing up she realized it was envy. Her mother would step in every now and then, but being so young, Isabella had never had the nerve or the ability to give him a piece of her mind.

  Well, she was not ten years old anymore and frankly she was sick of him. Isabella put her napkin on the red table cloth.

  “Am I wrong?” he teased her again.

  “Enough. Can we just eat and celebrate the holidays like any normal family?” said Isabella’s mother. Her aunt and Isabella’s father were also trying to quiet him. It was Christmas, time to be silent and grateful. And nice, but apparently someone didn’t get the memo.

  “I agree” said Marco, shaking his head to the fuss their uncle was making. What was his deal anyway?

  “You scare men” her uncle blurted out. Isabella didn’t like where this was going. Truth to be told, she never liked the tone of her uncle’s voice when he talked about her and her dreams. He always tried to crap all over her excitement and happiness. Well, she was not going to let him do that to her again. Not this time, not now that she was over the moon. She had wanted one present, only one for Christmas and that was to hear back from MB team in London and contrary to what she thought, that call had arrived and they had asked her to join them.

  Isabella crossed her arms and looked at her uncle. One thing she had learned growing up was to never let others stop you. It wasn’t worth it.

  “Interesting. How so?” she dared him.

  Uncle Franco sipped his wine quickly, eager to get back to the point. Isabella held his stare, ready to hear his load of rubbish. More like Uncle Freud, not Uncle Franco.

  “You are too career oriented. Some men may find that appealing, but not when it comes to being second in a woman’s priorities.”

  If she could have puked right there and then on the dinner table, she would have but since she had to still touch her food, Isabella did her best not to give in to the nausea. She had never heard so much male chauvinism from a single man in her life. What was even sadder, was that many people thought the same way as her uncle in the town she was from, in the south of Italy. That was exactly why she had to flee the town, the province, the region, the COUNTRY as quickly as possible.

  “Do I scare you?” she asked, doing her best to keep control.

  “Well…”he chewed on his gnocchi “ If I were a man interested in you, I’d be miles away by now. You have no intention of settling down. You are thirty-two you know –tick tock, tick tock- you act like a man. So yeah, I’d say I would look for a woman, one who wants to live a normal life”

  “Well, that’s just it”

  He looked surprised to hear her speak so calmly, after his ‘deep’ thoughts. She didn’t scream at him, she didn’t look mad at him for saying she was a scary young woman.

  “What do you mean?” he dared to ask, after a moment of hesitation.

  “I don’t want to settle with a man like you. When I find a man, a real man, who is not scared of a woman that knows what she wants, then I’ll settle” she shrugged and smiled, even though deep down she felt her anger grow by the minute.

  “Why don’t you just stop the nonsense and tell me what this is all about? You could have just asked me for tickets for a race, you know” she winked at him. There, take that. I am in control, I am in control. Don’t show him how pissed off you are. I’m so good at my job, I’m good, I’m good. Keep it together no matter what.

  “It’s not about the tickets…” he started saying, his cheeks flushed, annoyed at his niece’s words.

  “Whatever” she waved him off “Grandma this is the most amazing gnocchi you’ve ever made. Let’s make them together before I leave” and then she smiled, a sincere smile as her eyes locked with her grandma’s wrinkled ones and then her mother’s for the second time that night. She looked at her and noticed a glimpse of pride in them.

  Over dessert her grandma caught her in the kitchen and took the situation in her hands.

  “What happened with Salvo? You two were together for so long, we all met him. We just thought you two would marry soon” Isabella, who was about to cut herself a lovely slice of ice cream filled Panettone, put the knife down and lost all her appetite.

  Her grandma touched her shoulder and Isabella felt her warm bony fingers. She was getting so skinny.

  “He didn’t want me to go, what was I supposed to do? “ she had nothing else, no other justification.

  “That depends. Do you love him?”

  Isabella did a double take. She was so surprised at her grandma’s boldness. Love and sex were the only things she never spoke with her about. Not even once, ever. All of a sudden she wanted to talk about it. What about her new job? Why not talk about that instead?

  “I do but I am not in love with him” It was the truth, a sad, ugly truth maybe to someone, but her heart spoke just that.

  “Are you sure?”

  Isabella paused and thought about it for a minute. Then she looked up again and said:

  “Since I applied for this job, I never stopped once to think about what this would mean for Salvo and I, if I ever got in. It seemed as though he supported me at the beginning. Then he said I had to choose between him and my new job and deep down I knew my choice already, before we split up. I told him to come with me, take a year off from work. It’s his father’s business anyway. Just one year, one year of adventures together across the globe, but he said no. He said he wanted to settle down now. It’s not that I don’t want to marry or have a family. It’s not like uncle said. I do, not now though. I’m not ready yet”

  Her grandma took her hand off Isabella’s shoulder and started cutting a Panettone slice for her. When she had finished, she placed it on a red plate and dusted it with icing sugar, just like she used to when Isabella was a child. Then she moved closer and leaned in, touching her forehead with her granddaughter’s.

  “Then go, go and have fun. Enjoy your life and be crazy and “scary” as much as you like. Show them all. Do everything that I wasn’t given a chance to do”

  Chapter one

  His words had cut through her skin, like knife blades.

  “Don’t go, stay here with me”

  Isabella had gasped, taken by surprise. It couldn’t be. Salvo had always encouraged her, he had always told her to go for the job. She shook her head, speechless, her mouth half open but no words were coming out.

  “Don’t take the job” another blow, another stab, this time it felt like it had gone straight through her chest.

  “Don’t do it” she had looked down and then up into his eyes again.

  Salvo had ran a hand through his hair, before moving closer, before placing his hands on her shoulders and looking into her eyes.

  “I don’t want you to go” he had said, holding her stare.

  “Salvo, don’t…” she had murmured, unable to look away. Isabella could tell from the dark shadow in her boyfriend’s eyes,
that his heart was broken.

  “If you go, I won’t wait for you” he had said, his voice a little harsh just then.

  Isabella’s eyes widened, surprised. Where had this come from? How could he be saying these things to her, after having celebrated her new job all night with their friends?

  “But you said I had your support” she had shook her head in disbelief.

  Salvo had looked away and let go of her shoulders.

  “I know, but now it’s actually happening” he muttered “I can’t do the long distance thing. I want you here. You have to choose” he had looked at her again.

  Isabella had opened her mouth to say something, but stopped midway. What was Salvo really asking of her? To give up on something she had been working for since she had graduated. Opportunity like this one were a once in a lifetime call. It was either now or never. Could Isabella live with that regret? Could she stay, without holding the grudge with Salvo?

  After thinking it through a few instants, she found the words she had been looking for.

  “I am going”

  The day Isabella landed in London was a memorable one. First of all, it was the coldest day in forty-eight years. How lucky was she. Not to mention the windiest ever.

  She had wrapped herself in her red coat and walked all the way from the terminal building to the car, where the driver was waiting to take her to the hotel, not too far from Heathrow Airport. She seriously thought she would freeze before she would get a chance to open the car door.

  The driver, a kind man in his fifties, handed her a welcome note from her supervisor Hillary Manlowe, explaining what was about to happen. She could rest, change, get settled in, before attending a sponsor dinner that night in the hotel’s restaurant. She would get to meet all the MB team there, including the drivers. In the note, Hillary also informed her that dress code was black tie. Thankfully she had taken quite a few evening dresses with her, sensing how formal these dinners could get.