Even more beautiful, though, was her face, with a swan-like neck, a beautifully oval face, and full lips that twitched with sensuous promise, a button nose, and round, high cheekbones. Most dramatic of all were her eyes, which were nearly so dark they looked black even as I came closer. For me, a man who'd taken pride in sampling the genetic smorgasbord of lovers, she was the hottest woman I'd ever seen. I cleared my throat and tried to think of something to say. "Sorry for the delay. Are we late?"
Dad shook his head and smiled. "Not at all, Tomasso. Luisa, this is my sister-in-law, Margaret Bertoli, and my eldest son, Tomasso. He just graduated, and is now coming home to learn the family business."
"It’s a pleasure to meet you both," Luisa said, her accent sending chills down my neck, which intensified when she shook my hand. This woman was no wilting wallflower, that was for sure. She had a good grip, and her hand, while not callused, was also not the type that got oil massages on a daily basis. This woman knew more than her outer appearance let on. "So what did you study?"
"Business," I replied, putting on a cocky grin. It'd always helped in the past, and I was confident when talking about school. I'd done okay, and I figured if anything, I could always spout a line of bullshit that would sound impressive. I just hoped that she didn't ask me too much about the family side of things. I was still so new to it that I didn't know enough to speak well. "I went to school at a private school in Alabama. What about you?"
"I studied economics at Brown," Luisa replied with a cool smile. "It was an interesting few years."
"I see. Well, shall we?" I asked, looking at Dad. He nodded, and we went to the head of the giant table, where four places had been laid out. Dad and Aunt Margaret sat side by side at the two spaces at the head, with Luisa on Dad's right while I sat on Aunt Margaret's left.
She was wearing an Armani tailored suit herself, but it didn’t hide her femininity one bit. Raising a glass, she smiled beautifully. "I would like to propose a toast," she said, looking at Dad. "To Carlo Bertoli. May his family be blessed forever."
"To the Mendosa family, who I hope will be friends and allies for all the days to come,” Dad replied before taking a drink of his wine. "I must say, Luisa, the stories of Brazilian beauty pale in comparison to the real thing."
"Thank you, Mr. Bertoli, but considering your sister-in-law, I’m hardly one to take compliments," Luisa replied. "Besides, you should see my sisters. I’m far too tall to be considered an ideal beauty."
I coughed slightly, mostly in surprise at her comment. If Luisa thought that her sisters were more beautiful than she—and it sounded like she was being honest and not just giving off false modesty—the family must breed goddesses, not women. My aunt gave me a glance, but overall, I hid my reaction well enough . . . at least I thought so. "Luisa, what’s your part of Brazil like?"
"Porto Alegre is the southernmost state capital, so it's cooler than some of the larger cities like your Seattle." she said with an eyebrow. “You'd find the weather much closer to what you probably had at your school in Alabama."
"Tomasso wanted to spread his wings, find his own path. That sometimes requires putting up a little distance," Margaret said, speaking up. The reality, we all knew, was that I was trying to get as far away from Seattle as I could, and the school I went to chose the size of my father's donation over the level of my SAT scores. I'd done a lot more screwing around than studying in high school. "What about Brown? That's quite a distance from Brazil."
"My father wanted at least one of his children to get an international education. As it was, he was lucky in that two of his daughters took him up on his offer. My little sister, Anna, is currently studying in Australia at the University of Adelaide," Luisa said, taking a sip of wine. Her words were interrupted as Chef wheeled out the first course, a light anchovy salad with an olive oil dressing. "Obrigado."
"I'm sorry, what was that?" I said, picking up my fork. "I didn't get what you said."
"Obrigado. It is Portuguese for thank you," Luisa replied, smirking. There was a taunting note to her voice that I didn't like at all. "Don't tell me you only speak English?"
"Spanish and Italian too, thank you very much," I shot back with more vehemence than I'd expected. This woman, as beautiful as she was, was starting to piss me off. I was used to being the cocky one, and she appeared to be just as confident in herself. "I do have more than just my good looks on my side."
"Hmm, if you say so," she said, eating her food. I caught the amused twinkle in Margaret's eyes, and I stewed for a moment before eating some of my salad. Conversation drifted along, with Dad asking Luisa about her family and how her life in Porto Alegre was. Despite the sting of her earlier words, I was drawn in as she discussed her life.