The Catasy

Alta Mare, Italy: 1971

The blond man dismounted the foaming stallion he had just ridden into exhaustion and began walking him back to the stables.

“Bravo, bravo … ” he spoke gently to the animal.

The horse responded by nudging the man with his head and exhaling lightly through flared nostrils.

“Conte Fiore, allow me.” A groom ran to the man and took the reins. The groom spoke in the subservient manner of the contadini, peasants, of Italy when addressing a nobleman. He guided the horse to his stall at the other end of the vast pasture.

As Count Alberto Fiore approached his car, he thought about the dichotomy of riding a horse, then jumping into a Ferrari. The feel of either was vastly different but the power was the same. Both were tremendous rides.

He started the car. The engine’s scream pierced the quiet countryside. He drove with controlled recklessness to the huge manor visible beyond the stables and open fields reserved for the horses.

As he walked through the massive front door, a middle-aged butler appeared to take his riding crop and car keys.

“Grazie, Giorgio. And Mama, where is she?”

“Your mother is in the sitting room, Conte Fiore,” the butler bowed subtly.

Alberto strode through the long hallway. He entered the stately room, furnished with the finest antiques, where his mother sat knitting.

“Ah, Alberto,” she lifted her cheek for a kiss. “How was your ride?”

“Excellent, Mama. I’ve missed the horses. It’s been too long. ”

“It is you who chooses to spend so much time in Rome, caro.”

Alberto smiled at her poorly concealed attempt at manipulation.

“Yes Mama, but I’ve had a lot of work  these days. I am an attorney, remember?” His tone was affectionately mocking.

“Ah, my son, the lawyer. I am proud of you, you know? Working for so little and for such long hours … ”

“The hours are not that long, Mama. I only have two or three cases a month,” Alberto laughed.

“But for a man who has no need to spend valuable time at such a … a common occupation … ” Marisa Fiore spoke with her eyes averted.

“I know you would rather I be here in the country with you, taking care of the estate. But I am an attorney because I want to be. I enjoy helping the less fortunate with their legal problems.”

“But, figlio mio, there is so much to do here since your father passed away. ”

“Mama, you have a house full of servants. Your friends come often to keep you company. Besides, I am here at least once a month to take care of the business. You can’t expect me to spend my life at Alta Mare. The closest female of any grace or charm is the filly that was born last year!” Alberto took his mothers face in his hands and smiled into her aging, pale blue eyes, exact replicas of his own.

He knew she was lonely since his father had died the year before. Alberto had spent two months at Alta Mare then, trying to console his mother and sifting through the various financial and business arrangements the immense property demanded.

The vineyard yielded more than 4,000 bottles of excellent red and white wine each year and Alta Mare was famous for the rich olive oil its olive trees produced. Their fortune was intact, his father having been a keen businessman as was his father before him.

Alberto loved Alta Mare but he was young and Rome was exciting and fun. Alta Mare was always here for him when he needed a little time away from the pressure of his jet-set life.

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Brian Savage sat in the small dressing room, surrounded by the usual groupies his band had acquired over the past year. Mingling with the fans was a new and welcomed sight … record executives and men in suits. Wow, what a rush.

He was sipping a beer when he spotted Tanna working her way through the small room.
He had a few seconds to admire her as she approached. He had been almost speechless that first day when they met. She was beautiful.

“I … I really appreciate that you like my songs … ” his usual rock and roll cockiness had been replaced by awe.

“Oh, I love your music. You’ve got a lot of talent. David would like to talk with you about any other songs you have and what your prior commitments are.”

Tanna had been sweet but businesslike. She had been happily surprised to find that Brian Savage, a voice on a tape, was gorgeous. He had long, shaggy blond hair and very sexy green eyes. Eyes you could get lost in, she thought. His face was strikingly handsome and his body was the ultimate rock and roll ideal: skinny but strong. He was tall enough at 5’11” to be considered perfect. His whole being screamed STAR.

She was jazzed beyond belief. This was her first artist find since working with David and she prayed Brian Savage would make it. She had visualized her first star a lot since beginning work at Rafaelle Music. Brian was unsettlingly close to the man in her fantasies.

Brian had been having the dream for more than a year … the girl with the pretty face and long brown hair, watching him from the first row in the audience at the Grammy Awards. She had tears in her eyes and was smiling at him as his name was called for best new artist of the year. Titanna Springs was the girl! He had seen her in his dreams and now here she was, sitting in front of him, offering him the chance of a lifetime. He tried to concentrate on what she was saying but found himself overcome with an eerie feeling of deja vu.

“I’m sorry … ah, what did you say?” He forced himself to pay attention.

“David is in studio with Jackie Carol right now but he wanted me to meet with you first. Are you playing around town anywhere we can come see you?”

“Ah … yeah … I mean, we have a gig next week at the Lingerie Club and I could, ah, get you guys on the guest list … ” He had to pull himself together.

“Great. What night?” Tanna could tell Brian was ill at ease. She was trying to be as friendly as she could. His presence was beginning to have a strange effect on her. Her vision was sitting right here and she was in danger of losing her composure in a metaphysical swoon.

“Would Tuesday be good for you guys?” Brian was, at this point, just trying to get through the meeting. He needed to breathe some fresh air, fast.

“We’ll be there. What time do you go on?”

“Ah … I think eleven. I’ll call and let you know.”

“OK. It was really good meeting you. You look great! That always helps. ” Tanna decided to say what was on her mind. She could tell he was nervous and she wanted him to trust her.

“Oh … thanks. I work out every day,” Brian was blushing. His face burning. He couldn’t believe he felt about 13 years old.

“Good. When your career takes off, you’ll need all the strength you can get,” Tanna laughed as she stood up and extended her hand.

“Thank you … thanks for your support … ” Brian took her hand. They both felt an electrifying current, a supernatural element race through their palms that neither of them understood.

“See you Tuesday night,” Tanna released her hand and tried to remain professional.

“Right. Bye for now.”

Brian turned and left the office.

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THE CATASY
An original story by Rexanne Mancini

PROLOGUE

The engine’s humming on the plane to Rome was lulling her to sleep. She fought to stay as alert as possible despite the drugs clouding her mind.

She didn’t want to sleep, as comforting as sleep might have been. When she slept, she dreamt of him. She saw him so clearly, felt his touch, his strong arms and his kisses caressing her lips. She wanted to be there with him, to hold him and make love with him but she would awaken and the devastating loss would be even more painful, more gut wrenching than before. She would have hope after seeing him so vividly … but there was no hope.

Awakening to the realization that he was gone was frightening. She fought the airplane’s incessant massage on her senses and stared straight ahead. The familiar tears dripped silently down her cheeks. No drug could block the pain tearing through her mind and body.

She was vaguely aware of Francesca, her mother, sitting beside her in the spacious first class aisle. She was more aware of the fluttering in her belly … a recurring event these past few weeks.

As she closed her eyes against the nightmare that had become her life, she tried to think of what lay ahead. The man who waited at the other end of this journey, always there, ready to ease her pain; the woman sitting beside her who she could never turn to for comfort. She thought about the music career she had loved and the friends she had left. Once again, leaving it all, just as helpless as she had been when she left as a child. She knew there were other options, but thinking clearly had become impossible. She had allowed Francesca to guide her life again, like a little girl.

When sleep finally won the battle over her numbed consciousness, she was in his arms. He was stroking her hair as he always had, telling her how beautiful she was. But in her dream she wasn’t beautiful at all … it was a facade. He would realize she was not what she appeared to be and he would leave her. She buried her face in the soft hair on his chest, inhaling his scent. She wanted to remember this sensation of pure love before he loosened his embrace and saw she was not who he thought she was … she had somehow tricked him into loving her.

Soon he would find out and he would leave …

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