The clink of crystal against porcelain, the soft murmur of conversations, the faint scent of truffle oil and expensive perfume – all blended into the opulent hum of ‘Perla Nera’. My dinner guests, boisterous and charming, were mid-anecdote about a disastrous Tuscan holiday, but my attention, I confess, was elsewhere. It had been for the past twenty minutes. She sat at a table two sections over, bathed in the warm glow of...