Green Stone Ring Page 5

  As soon as Victor finished speaking, the people got up and started mingling. Ric rose from his chair when Mr. Agado came up behind him and introduced himself.

  Gini and Catherine made their way to the door, stopping to say good night to others. Gini turned to find Ric engaged with the same man. She put her hand to her ear and mouthed “call me” when she caught his attention. He acknowledged with a positive nod.

  The morning after every big event, Ric, James, and Carol met for brunch to go over the event and decide if there was any further action they needed to take. Greystone had so many parties at the hotel that the hotel offered the brunch to them for free.

  As Carol went through the auction list, Ric noticed Gini had won the bid on the small cloisonné box. He told Carol to let him take care of collecting the donation and delivering the item to her. She put the box and paperwork in a gift bag the hotel provided and handed it to him.

  Chapter 3 – Catching Up

  Tuesday afternoon, the caller ID showed R Santini on Gini’s landline.

  “Hey, Gini.” He was upbeat.

  “No one calls me at this number except Howard, our concierge. What’s up?”

  He was excited to finally get hold of her. “This is the only number I had for you. I looked through all my archived files and finally found this one. I have two things. First, you won the bid on the small cloisonné box.”

  “Fantastic! That little box drew my attention right away.”

  “However, to get it you have to pay a tidy little sum.”

  “I know. I will gladly pay.”

  “And that brings me to the second thing. I would like to bring the beautiful little box to you, collect the money, and then take you out to dinner.”

  His invitation caught her by surprise. “Okay… Sounds like fun.” There was hesitation in her voice.

  “When is a good time for you?”

  “Let me get my calendar.”

  “Let’s see, tonight I’m meeting with Michael… Wednesday a conference call… Thursday...” She went on for each day, pausing and stating what was on her schedule.

  “Okay, it looks like Friday, Saturday, or Sunday I’m open. Do any of those days work for you?”

  “Let me see.” He then imitated her by saying each day and mumbling something for each.

  “Yes, that works for me, too.”

  “Which day?”

  “All of them. Friday, we go to dinner. Saturday, we’ll drive up the coast and have lunch at Gloucester House. And Sunday I host our weekly neighborhood football game party for the Patriots at my house.”

  “I’d say, why don’t we just start with the Friday night dinner. What time?”

  “How about I come by about six-thirty? We take care of our dirty little money business, and I’ll make a reservation for seven-thirty. Does that work for you?”

  “That sounds perfect—fancy or casual?” She was suddenly uplifted in her mood—excited.

  “I’m thinking McCormack and Smits in Quincy Market.”

  “I’ll see you at six-thirty Friday night. Remember you can park out front. Howard will show you up.”

  “I remember the routine. I’m looking forward to seeing you.”

  As soon as Ric hung up, he thought maybe he was a little too eager throwing out all those get-together ideas. And what about Franco? He needed to find out if he was in town for the dinner count.

  “Hello, Ric.” There was amusement in her voice.

  “Hey, Gini.” He sounded breathless. “I don’t know where my head is. I just need to know if Franco is in town for the reservation. It would be great to see the ole guy.”

  Gini let out a sigh. “No worry. He’s not here, and I don’t expect him anytime soon. It’ll be just the three of us with Margarita.”

  “Ah, Margarita, oh no, no she won’t be joining us.” He was caught off guard by the mention of her name. “I guess we have some catching up to do.”

  “I guess so.”

  Gini put the phone back in the cradle slowly and started to think about Margarita. She had figured Margarita wasn’t at the Gala since Ric was working. Or maybe she was with her mom. Gini knew Margs took frequent trips to California to help her mother after her dad had died.

  Maybe now they could clear up what must be a misunderstanding between them, although Gini never had figured out just what happened to distance them.

  She tapped the cell bracelet on her arm and spoke the number he had just called her from into her phone.

  “Save contact. Ric Santini,” she commanded the electronic device.

  Then she dictated a text message into the round face. “Start text. Now you have my cell number. Period. Looking forward to Friday. Period. Stop. Send.”

  The week went fast for both of them, as they were busy with their jobs. Ric had a short day Friday, so he went back to his place, put on comfortable clothes, poured himself a beer, and sat in his living room to chill. As the thoughts of his busy week left his head, he started to think about his evening out with his good friend.

  He never had known what came between Gini and Riti. He knew the Legottis’ long residence in China had made Riti upset because she couldn’t be with her friend—as if she were jealous. Ric had just thought she angered easily because she was working so hard in school and at the hospital… she had taken on too much. And the babies, yes, their loss had weighed heavily on her. As the years passed, they both had worked too many hours; their personal lives were put aside.

  He was looking forward to dinner with Gini and rekindling the friendship. Hopefully, his two best friends were back in his life. He was in a moment of pure happiness.

  Gini looked down at her electronic bracelet and saw it was after five. The meeting that was scheduled at 10 a.m. had been pushed to eleven o’clock, then one and had finally started at three. It looked like it was going to go late, and she didn’t feel like she could just get up and walk out since she had requested to attend. She had asked Senator Goodman’s staff if she could be at the meeting as a fact-finding mission for his agenda on health care for children, and then she’d report back to Catherine with her findings. She was just about to discreetly text Ric and cancel their dinner date when Pat Goodman stood up.

  “Okay, people, it’s after five o’clock on a Friday night, and I think we have discussed the issue and come to an understanding. Do you all agree? I say let’s adjourn this meeting and go home, and have a great weekend.

  “Did you get what you needed, Ms. Anderson?”

  “Yes, Senator. Thank you so much for letting me sit in on the meeting.”

  She stopped long enough from packing her business bag to shake his hand.

  “Anytime. You just let my staff know if you need any other information. Okay, everyone, have a good one.”

  Gini figured by the time she got home she would have an hour to get ready. As she stepped inside her place, she flung her bag on the breakfast bar and grabbed her PET. She hadn’t had a chance to check her personal messages all day. She turned the device on and went into her bedroom to debate whether she could wear what she had on or not. She was in a business suit and decided she needed to soften her look for dinner. And then thought how a hot shower would feel good, and, oh, some white wine. She went back to the kitchen and clicked on her email, then poured herself a half glass of chardonnay. Back to look at her email. The first three were from Franco. Oh, my gosh, she thought, this guy’s timing is impeccable. She decided to get ready first and then concentrate on the messages.

  After her shower—while sipping her wine—she decided to wear the light gold silk blouse with the low square-cut neck. It was full fitting, so she belted it with a navy-blue belt that had green and rust stripes near the big silver buckle. She pulled on her favorite navy-blue silk pants that were tight fitting across the hips and thighs and flared out to a full leg. Then she slipped on her navy-blue wedge heels, again with a green fabric stripe across the toe.

  She had a couple more sips of wine, then, while brushing her hair, she
opened her email. All three of Franco’s messages had attachments. She clicked on the first one:

  I just downloaded my pictures, finally. I’m attaching three I think will tell the story of what we are doing here. You should be here, babe. You would love all the sweet children. I don’t have any way to downsize the pictures, so I’ll send them in three different emails.

  Gini, my love, I haven’t gotten a response for the email I sent you last week. I hope you’re receiving these messages. Tell me a good time to call if you want to talk. I can’t guarantee good reception. I’ll be leaving for the site tomorrow, and I would like to hear from you. I plan to take another satellite phone with me, this time protecting it with my life, but who knows if I’ll be able to get a signal out. Please, tell me that you are okay and receiving this. Love, Franco.

  Again, there were several paragraphs about his company at the end.

  The first picture was of a Chinese child she guessed was about four years old. His nose was running, and his face and clothes were dirty. He looked at the camera with his big eyes. She guessed it was a boy, but there was no real way to tell. He was so cute. The next picture showed the same child leaning over to pick up a large ball, this time smiling. His clothes and face were clean. She figured Franco was playing ball with him and had snapped the picture. The last picture was of a young Chinese woman with a baby in her arms. She held a clear baby bottle out as if to show the clean, clear water in the bottle. From her smile, she was very pleased.

  Oh, Franco, you have such a good heart. But I don’t have time to write you back. Not now.

  She looked at her bracelet again. It was six-twenty. She closed the PET screen and went to mess with her hair until it looked good, then started putting on her makeup.

  The landline phone rang—Howard. “Ms. Anderson, there’s a Mr. Santini here to see you.”

  “Yes.” Her voice was a bit frantic. “Maybe you could delay him, or, oh, no, it’s okay, um, send him up. Thanks.”

  Howard looked at Ric. “It appears Ms. Anderson is running a bit late, and I see the elevator is stuck up on the tenth floor so we’ll just have to wait.” He winked.

  “Okay, not a problem.”

  “It has been a while, Mr. Santini, since we’ve seen you around here.” Howard kept working on something behind the counter.

  “Yes, it has. The place hasn’t changed much.”

  “No, you know some things never change, and then there are others that are forever changing.” He looked down at his watch. “I see the elevator has been released. This way, please.” They walked over to the elevator.

  Ric had both hands full. In one hand, he held a small bouquet of four yellow roses, and in the other, the bag with the small box.

  Howard put the programmed key in the slot, and the elevator door opened. “Have a great evening, Mr. Santini.”

  “Thank you.”

  Gini was just finishing putting on her lipstick, and without thinking, she picked up the green stone ring and slipped it on her finger. Just then, she heard the doorbell. She walked to the door, stood in front of it for a second, took a deep breath, let it out, and then turned the knob.

  Ric was standing there with his hands full.

  “Come on in.”

  He leaned over, kissed her on the cheek, and handed her the bouquet.

  “Yellow roses, my favorite.” She took them and walked into the kitchen to find a vase.

  “How are you doing?”

  “Much better now that it’s Friday night and I’ve had a hot shower and a glass of wine. Would you like a drink?”

  “Sure, what do you have?”

  “Look behind the bar, just about everything.”

  “Nice bar.” He took a bottle of scotch off the shelf after he had set the bag down. “I’ll take some scotch on ice.”

  “There’s ice in the small refrigerator under the counter, and the glasses are there at the bar.”

  She finally found the vase she was looking for and put the roses in with water and set the vase next to her PET on the breakfast bar. She took her wine and walked to Ric sitting on a barstool. “Thank you for the roses.”

  “You’re very welcome. I like what you have done with the place. Same space, but a lot of work done since I was here last.”

  “When we first moved in here, we didn’t have a lot of money.” She settled on the barstool. “We decided to do it piecemeal. And, of course, we started in the master suite since that’s where we spent most of our time. One thing I have to say for Franco is he’s a great lover.”

  There was a silence. “Oh, I’m sorry. I think that was too much information.” She turned to face him with a solemn look on her face.

  In the past, that statement would have Gini full of spirit. There would have been a cute giggle at the end, sparkles in her eyes, and her dimples digging deep into her cheeks. Her serious demeanor was strange to him. What had happened to the spunky, excitable personality that had made everyone around her so happy? He was concerned maybe something was terribly wrong in her life.

  “Yes, TMI.” Ric winked at her.

  “It’s amazing how little money we had in college. Even with good jobs, it took us a while to accumulate the cash to remodel.”

  Ric shook his head. “Poor as church mice. As it turns out, I struggled for no reason.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You remember when Riti and I went to the West Coast the end of summer after graduation?”

  She nodded.

  “My mom had called and said she needed me to come see her.”

  Gini looked puzzled. “I thought you guys went out there after Margs’ second miscarriage so she could be with her mom.”

  “We did that too. We first went to the Bay Area, and I stayed a couple of days. Then I drove to Sacramento.

  “I went to visit my mom. The first thing she told me was that my great aunt had passed away years before. I was shocked. I asked her how long she’d been living alone and she seemed confused, talking about neighbors George and Amy across the street who helped out. I was worried about how she was paying for things and asked to see her checkbook. She had more than that—a whole box of envelopes, statements from the Whitmore Investment Company where my dad worked. The first envelope I opened was a recent broker’s statement: an account in my mom’s name with over six-hundred thousand dollars in it. To say I was stunned would be an understatement! ‘Mom, where did you get all of this money?’ I asked. It seems my dad had an insurance policy. The people across the street started looking out for my mom after my aunt died in July that year. Mom inherited the house.

  “She hadn’t changed, always looking like she was half awake, and just kind of wandered around the room as she talked. We were never close after my dad died. It was impossible to communicate with her most of the time, especially on the phone. She got everything so confused. I was surprised I didn’t know about my aunt, but not really after thinking about it. I remember her voice, whispery, a little dazed, ‘Ricci, I’m going to make some tea. Do you want some?’

  “Then she made a fuss over something she wanted to show me. She finally found it—an envelope from the bottom of the box.

  “It looked like all of the other envelopes. There was the same return address, but my name was typed on the front. But it was a letter telling about the trust fund my dad had set up for me. It said something like:

  “Riccardo Anthony Santini: On September eighth, your twenty-third birthday, the amount of $500,000 plus any interest accrued will be released to you from the Anthony James Santini trust fund to use at your discretion… and if I had valid reasons to use the fund earlier, like for education, then I could petition to get the funds. I mean, I could have had a lot of money in college to cover what the scholarship didn’t.”

  “Really?” Gini said with her eyes opened wide.

  “The trust documents were also in the envelope. The letter was signed by Roger Whitmore, CEO and president, dated August fifth, five months after my dad died.


  “Mom told me Mr. Davies took care of everything. I went to see him in San Francisco two days later.

  “So Mr. Davies goes, ‘I’m glad you came. I have been trying to get your mother to call you for a while. She never could find your phone number. I guess you have seen the letter for your inheritance to be released to you next week.’

  “I didn’t bother to tell him he could have found my number himself—it’s not like I was unlisted. Surely he knew where I was at school. But I let it go. It turns out, John went up to see my mom four times a year just to make sure she was doing okay. I guess a lawyer was also assigned to my mother when my dad died. I tried to talk her into moving here to Boston and living with Riti and me, but she wouldn’t hear of it. I found a nice young couple to move in with Mom and take care of her.”

  “Is your mom still living?”

  “No, she died—let’s see—when you guys were in China.”

  “I’m sorry, Ric.” She patted his arm.

  “Thanks, but it was a godsend. She was so sad for all of those years. The young couple bought the house, so I didn’t have to do much to take care of all of Mom’s affairs after her death.”

  Gini had only gone to Ric’s house in Sacramento once. He had been embarrassed at his mother’s condition and constantly told her how lucky she was to have such a loving mother. After the visit, Gini had felt bad for his mother, and had found his aunt was scary and stern.

  “So, that is how you and Margs could afford to buy that brownstone on Beacon Hill!”

  “It was already in the works before I went to Sacramento. The law firm had given me a housing bonus when I was hired on. Once the bank found out I had the money from the trust as well, that sealed the deal. Riti had a real knack for decorating. We turned that drafty house into a nice, cozy home.”

  “You still own it, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “I can’t wait to see it and Ma—” Gini was interrupted.

  “Oh,” he said as he knocked over the bag with his arm, “here is your little treasure.”