The days were slow, offering little work and almost no play either since most others were busy actually working. Each morning was spent in bed, lounging with a paper and some tea; when it didn't rain, Blaise would swim in his own pool (probably a habit he picked up from his mother). If that was impossible, he might look around the stores or watch a movie. Doing something active was better than doing nothing.
While he knew that his days were mostly empty, Blaise refused to let that information loose. Nights were even spent at fruitless parties and social engagements to which his presence was simple required. This particular meeting was something more, however. And although Blaise wouldn't admit this either, he did like his mother; if he ever saw himself with a wife, she would have to carry herself as Serafina did, though he hoped for someone less spoiled. Someone that wouldn't kill him for his money.
The thought of his mother's past brought a light grin to his face as he arrived at the Italian villa in a crisp, light suit without the jacket. The weather was certainly nicer and he appreciated the setting as soon as he stepped outside, feeling the last of the sun's rays warm his exposed skin.
"Hello, mother," he said, the amused grin still in place.