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Chiara spooned some of the ragu onto a crostino and ate it slowly, the expression on her face one of sexual satisfaction.
“All right,” said Gabriel. “I surrender.”
“Say it,” insisted Chiara.
“I will never mention Gennaro’s name again.”
“Who’s Gennaro?” asked Irene as she wandered into the kitchen.
“He works at Bar Cupido on the Fondamente Nove,” replied Gabriel. “Your mother is having a torrid affair with him.”
“What does torrid mean?”
“Ardent and passionate. Scorched with heat.”
“It sounds painful.”
“It can be.”
Chiara prepared another ragu-smothered crostino and pointedly handed it to Irene. The child was wearing a World Wildlife Fund pullover that Gabriel had never seen before.
“Where did you get this?” he asked, tugging at the sleeve.
“We adopted a tiger.”
“Will he be sharing your room or Raphael’s?”
“It’s a symbolic adoption,” said Irene, rolling her eyes. “The tiger remains in the wild.”
“I’m relieved. But since when did you became an animal rights activist as well as an environmental extremist?”
“Do you know how many species are threatened because of climate change?”
“I haven’t a clue. But I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”
“More than forty thousand. And with each degree of warming the problem will only get worse.” Irene climbed onto Gabriel’s lap. “How was your trip to Paris?”
“Who told you that I went to Paris?”
“Mama, silly.”
“But I never mentioned it to her.”
“I saw the charges for your train tickets and hotel on your credit card,” explained Chiara. “I also noticed a rather large withdrawal from an ATM machine in the Eighteenth Arrondissement, which seemed odd. After all, you had plenty of cash in your wallet when I left London. Nearly a thousand euros, in fact.”
Gabriel plucked the ragu-covered crostino from his daughter’s hand and devoured it before she could object. “Paris was interesting,” he said. “I went there to see someone named Naomi Wallach. She works at the Louvre.”
Chiara reached for her phone and typed, then handed it to Irene. “She’s very beautiful,” said the child.
“All of your father’s female friends are beautiful. And they all adore him to no end.” Chiara reclaimed the phone. “Tell your brother that dinner will be ready in ten minutes.”
“I want to stay here.”
“I need to have a word with your father in private.”
“About Gennaro the barman?”
Chiara squeezed the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. “Irene, please.”
