Gabriel's Inferno

At eight o’clock that evening, Miss Julianne Mitchell put the finishing touches on her hair as her sweetheart gazed at her longingly from the doorway of the bathroom. He adored her. It was evident in every look, every touch, and the way he stared, unblinking, at her simplest actions.

 

She’d curled her hair and pinned it up, coaxing a few tendrils about her face, tendrils Gabriel longed to wrap around his fingers. Her aesthetician in Toronto had given her a small tube of industrial strength concealer, makeup that was designed to cover even the worst scars. It was so effective, Julia no longer had to wear a scarf to hide Simon’s bite. Just being able to forget about the scar made Julia joyous, especially since Grace’s lovely scarf would not have matched her new dress.

 

Her dress was a silky emerald green—long-sleeved and V-necked, as she preferred, its hem brushing the top of her knees. She wore sheer black stockings with a surprise attached to them and was about to step into her black Prada stilettos. As Gabriel watched her lean forward to put on her shoes, he vowed to purchase more of them. They did incredible things for her legs and to her cleavage as she leaned over.

 

“Allow me,” he said, crouching in front of her in his freshly pressed navy suit. He took her hand and placed it on his shoulder, to aid her balance, while he lifted each foot and slipped on her shoes.

 

“Thank you,” she murmured.

 

He smiled up at her and kissed her hand. “Anything for you, Cinderella.”

 

Julia pulled her black three-quarter length trench coat from the closet and was about to wriggle into it when Gabriel took it out of her hand.

 

“Let me,” he protested. “I want to fuss over you.”

 

“It’s just a coat, Gabriel. No worries.”

 

“Yes, I know it’s a coat. But it’s an opportunity for me to behave like a gentleman and honor you. Please don’t deprive me, Julianne.”

 

She flushed in embarrassment and nodded slowly. She wasn’t used to such attention, of course, except from Gabriel. She wanted to be gracious and let him attend her, but it was far more than she ever expected or thought that she deserved. She reached up to kiss him and whispered her thanks against his lips. He took her arm and led her downstairs and toward the restaurant.

 

Julia and Gabriel walked slowly through the cobblestoned streets from the Palazzo Vecchio, over to the Palazzo dell’Arte dei Giudici e Notai, laughing and reminiscing about previous visits to Florence. They had to walk slowly, for navigating Florence in stilettos was more than a little challenging. Thankfully, Gabriel had taken Julia’s arm to escort her properly, thus enabling her to walk upright and also to avoid much of the wolf whistles and catcalls of Florentine youths. The city had not changed that much since the days of Dante.

 

The restaurant Gabriel had chosen was called Alle Murate. It was located in a fourteenth-century guild hall a short walk from the Duomo, and it boasted incredible period frescoes, including a portrait of Dante himself. Julia was overwhelmed by the beauty of the artwork and found herself wandering slightly as the ma?tre d’ escorted them to their table.

 

Gabriel had reserved a quiet space on the loft floor overlooking the main room, just under the vaulted ceiling. It was the best table in the house, for it afforded the finest and closest views of the medieval illustrations. Four angels frozen in frescoes floated above them as Julia took Gabriel’s hand and squeezed it. She was ecstatic.

 

“It’s beautiful. Thank you. I had no idea these frescoes were here.”

 

He smiled at her enthusiasm. “Tomorrow night will be even better. Massimo tells me that my lecture is scheduled after the museum closes and there will be a reception with local dignitaries and academics. Later on, there will be a banquet inside the Gallery. It will be a semi-formal affair, and we will be the guests of honor.”

 

Julia smiled narrowly. “I didn’t bring anything fancy enough for a semi-formal.”

 

“I’m sure anything you brought would look beautiful. But I can understand not wanting to wear the same dress twice. So I will just have to take you shopping.”

 

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather I left you to it? The banquet is a celebration of your lecture, so you’ll be very busy. Maybe you’d be more comfortable if you could—mingle freely.”

 

He reached over to push a curl away from her face. “Julianne, your presence is not only encouraged, it’s required. I dislike going to social events alone. I always have. Having you at my side is the only pleasure the evening will afford, I assure you. Don’t you want to join me?” His face took on a worried expression.

 

“I always enjoy your company. But people will ask me who I am and what I do…won’t that be awkward for you?”

 

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