The House by the Cypress Trees

by Elena Mikalsen

  The words finally came to Marco first. Not very nice words as far as she could tell by his facial expression. Followed by Julia’s apologies, and Marco’s gesturing threats, and Julia’s waving a credit card in his face and promising to pay for the damages. Despite the credit card, half an hour later, Lizzy and Julia were evicted from the apartment.

  Ignoring Marco’s continued complaints, Julia proceeded down the stairs, kicking her suitcases, with Lizzy stuffed into her backpack. Drenched in sweat, sleep-deprived, and hungry—and it wasn’t even morning. Not to mention she was homeless. Homeless in Rome. She was rather starting to get used to feeling ridiculous in Italy.

  “I’m sorry, baby dog,” she said to Lizzy as she wiped her forehead. “You know what? Let’s wait here until the city wakes up. I bet you’d like to take a walk.”

  The dog wiggled her tail. Julia looked up for any sign of her disgruntled home owner, then sneaked into the garden. It was deserted this early in the morning, the Romans still sleeping in after last night’s escapades. Oh, how she wished she could still sleep in as well. She propped her suitcases against a bench while Lizzy engaged in happy digging in the dirt.

  Julia sat down on the bench, hoping not to be chased out. But who would care about a woman sitting in the garden with her dog?

  Her situation was hopeless. What was she going to do? She could get some breakfast soon, but she had lost her appetite.

  She ran through ideas in her head. Call Dad and tell him Italy had her outwitted and she shouldn’t have thought that a small-town Texas girl could figure it out. Find another rental in Rome. Get her rental car early and head to Florence right away. Maybe they liked dogs better there. Camp in her rental car in the country. That way she’d keep Lizzy for a little while longer.

  Lizzy lay down for a nap and, suddenly, Julia was too exhausted to decide. She examined the bench. Perhaps it would do for a little nap for herself. She took a sweatshirt out of her suitcase, rolled it up into a pillow, and collapsed onto the wooden planks. If she could close her eyes just for a few minutes, a perfect solution would come to her.

  She woke from the bright sun in her eyes.

  “Lizzy, where are you?” she called out.

  “Texas, I do suggest you consider renting a flat next time. They’re quite lovely in this building,” a now familiar British voice said.

  “Ha-ha. Do you charge for this great advice?” Julia asked, sitting up and putting away her sweatshirt.

  Daniel squatted on the ground, petting Lizzy. Julia rubbed her eyes, trying to wake herself up. She should’ve been embarrassed that Daniel found her sleeping on the bench, but she was too exhausted, her shoulders and sides aching from the hard, uneven wood planks and ironwork. In truth, she was so grateful to see a friendly face, her eyes began to water.

  This morning had been awful, and she had hardly slept from taking the dog out all night to the garden. No matter how much she pretended she could brave this ridiculous situation, she didn’t truly feel up to it.

  Not alone.

  Chapter 6

  Daniel stepped out and returned with a foamy cappuccino for her, with a pastry filled with cream.

  “It’s cornetto alla crema. Try it. You could use some sugar and coffee,” he encouraged.

  “I look that bad, huh?” She bit into the pastry, and the sweet buttery cream spilled onto her tongue. Her eyes closed in delight. Daniel was right—she needed this. She moaned with gratitude.

  “So are you and the pup moving, or have you been evicted?” Daniel asked.

  He stood inches away from her, and she smelled the lovely clean smell of him. He wore a crisp white shirt and a pair of jeans, and she envied his relaxed look.

  “Has the entire building heard by now?” she asked, her irritation increasing.

  “I’m right?” His eyes widened. “What did you do?”

  “What do you mean—what did I do? Do I look like someone who gets kicked out of apartments or something?” She stood up.

  He put his hands up in protest. “I was trying to be nice.”

  “I’m sorry, but it’s been a bad morning.” She didn’t feel like apologizing at all, but she didn’t quite want him to leave, either.

  “What happened?”

  Julia pointed at Lizzy. “The puppy happened. The apartment doesn’t allow dogs.”

  “And I see you haven’t arranged for another place to stay.”

  “That would be correct.”

  “I don’t believe that Rome’s hotels are that accepting of dogs. Perhaps, if you conceal her. She is rather small.”

  “That didn’t work out so well for me last night. No, not doing that again. I’m heading to Tuscany next. I’ll just get my rental car early.”

  She thought she detected pity or some sort of emotion in his eyes. He sat down on the bench. “What are you going to do with this dog in Tuscany?”

  “Get her to a shelter. Maybe I’ll pay a vineyard to adopt her. Or I might just keep her until I find my mother. I’m less worried about the dog than about the fact I’m currently homeless.”

  “You are appallingly bad at travel, Julia.”

  “Ha-ha, very funny.” She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m not usually this irritable. I don’t mean to snap at you. Thanks for the breakfast. Can I pay you back?”

  “Certainly not.”

  “Well, I’m getting a car and getting out of here.” Julia took out her phone and typed on the car rental website. “Shouldn’t be an issue, right?” The site suddenly shut down. “Darn it. The connection is bad here.”

  “Why don’t you come up to my flat? There’s a laptop and good wi-fi.”

  “I’m not someone who goes to strangers’ apartments.” She raised her brows.

  “Perhaps you are also not someone who rescues dogs in Italy and ends up homeless before breakfast. But here you are. What do you think—I’ll steal your polka-dot dresses?” He stood up and picked up one of her suitcases.

  “Fair enough.” And she followed him, with a carry-on behind her, Lizzy bouncing under her arm.

  A few minutes later, they walked in through the front door to his apartment.

  “I see why you stay here and not at a hotel. What a well-decorated place,” Julia observed, looking around.

  “It’s a corporate flat. One of the perks.” He rolled his eyes.

  “Do you come to Rome often?”

  “It was my first time, but I have a bad feeling I’ll be here a lot from now on.”

  “I’d feel lucky working here if I had an apartment like this. And I could keep my dog, too,” Julia said, looking out the kitchen window.

  “You are on holiday. Everything looks great when you are on holiday. As for me, I’m about to get sacked from my job.”

  “Because one presentation didn’t go well?”

  “It sets us back months.”

  Daniel set up a laptop for her and made himself busy at the kitchen counter. He called Lizzy in a few moments later, a plate of chopped-up sausage on the floor by his feet. Lizzy tumbled over to the plate and made happy chomping noises.

  “She likes it,” Julia said, her eyes glued to the screen. The site was slowly loading. Maybe there was hope.

  “All dogs love sausage,” Daniel said.

  “I haven’t had one, so I wouldn’t know.”

  “How is it possible you’ve never had a dog?”

  “My dad was allergic, and my mother—she got sick—and there was no time to care for a dog.” Julia bit her lip as she waited for the site to reload once again.

  “I’ve always had dogs. Four or five by now. No one will love you like a dog.” He rubbed Lizzy behind the ears. “Can I offer you something?”

  Julia hesitated to take advantage of Daniel’s hospitality. “I’m fine, thanks. Still full from breakfast. We’ll get on our way soon, so you can get on with your day. I’m almost done.”

  He poured himself a glass of water and set one next to her on the table. “All I must do today is a drive to Greve. It�
��s in Tuscany, a few hours away.”

  The site finally loaded, and Julia searched frantically for a car. Nothing. There were no cars available for two days. How was that possible? She was in a large city. She tried another site. Then another. Nothing available at the last minute.

  “How is it going?” Daniel asked, sitting down.

  “Awful. I can’t get a car anywhere. I’ll give them a call.” She rubbed her forehead.

  “You won’t get it. It’s a hot weekend and everyone’s out to the country.”

  “It’s Rome. Shouldn’t they have like a billion cars for rent?”

  “Italy doesn’t work like that.”

  Julia stood up and began to pace. “I don’t understand this country. What am I going to do?”

  “Explain to me how a cowgirl from Texas ends up rescuing dogs in Italy.” Daniel patted a chair, encouraging her to sit down.

  “Anyone would have rescued a dog if they saw it being abused.” Julia sat down obligingly and took a sip of her water.

  “Not on holiday, and not in a foreign country. People are less brave under those circumstances.”

  “I wasn’t brave, I was reckless. I didn’t think of the consequences. Like what I would do with the dog after I rescued it. See the predicament I’m in now?”

  Daniel shrugged. “The coward dies a thousand deaths, the valiant, only once.”

  “What?” She raised her brows.

  “The great Shakespeare said that.” Daniel leaned forward. “Listen, I might have a solution for you.”

  “Don’t worry about me, Shakespeare. I can take care of myself.” Julia took another sip of her water.

  “I’m serious. As I said, I intend to go to Tuscany this morning. I wouldn’t mind giving you a ride. As long as you don’t chatter the whole way.”

  Julia held her breath. This would be a perfect solution to her problem. But her stomach twisted into knots. Something felt wrong.

  “I don’t chatter.” She examined him. “I’m not sure I can trust you.” Yes, that’s what the feeling was all about. Just because she was a girl from a small town, it didn’t mean she’d let herself get duped.

  “Then why are you sitting in my flat with your dog and your things?” He reclined in his chair, his mouth corners upturned into a small smile.

  “Valid point,” Julia said. Her mind raced. Was this her only option? And then she thought it wouldn’t be so awful to have company on the way to Tuscany. He had been kind to her and Lizzy.

  She took another sip of her water. “Perhaps I’ll take you up on your offer. Aren’t you sick of me yet, though? You are very nice to a stranger.”

  Daniel sat up straighter and cleared his throat. “Listen. About last night. Please don’t get the wrong idea. My life is a bit complicated at the moment.”

  She swallowed. “Do you believe I’m after you or something? Just because we went on one date?”

  “Is that what it was?”

  “Whatever it was,” Julia said through her teeth and looked sternly at him, “it’s over now. I need a favor. That’s all there is. And you were the one who came to me in the garden this morning and offered to help. I wasn’t looking for you or asking. I’m going to the bathroom.”

  Julia splashed her face in the bathroom and brushed her hair. This all had taken a very unexpected turn this morning. She wasn’t sure what to make of Daniel, or being kicked out of her apartment, or her fresh feelings for Lizzy, or the painting. They all created a crazy whirl of emotions she couldn’t control at the moment. Another splash of cold water on her face felt good. She searched for a towel with closed eyes and her fingers found…a lacy bra?

  A pink-and-gray lacy bra. An expensive, fancy one, the kind she could never afford on her teacher’s salary. 32A, she read on the label. So Daniel’s life was “a bit complicated,” huh? She could see how. She smirked and hung it back on a hook. Let the A-cup find it herself.

  “Listen, I’m sorry,” Daniel said, when she returned, as he rinsed their glasses in the sink. “I don’t want it to be awkward or have any misunderstanding between us. I’m not especially good at relationships, I’ve been told, and I’m here to visit family, not date. Last night perhaps I should’ve been more clear.”

  “Let me remind you,” Julia said. “You kissed me. And I don’t remember giving you permission.” Not the best at relationships? What’s with the A-cup then?

  “That was a friendly peck and not a kiss. Anyway, I’m simply offering you a lift,” Daniel said, wiping his hands on a towel.

  “Look, I won’t be a bother. I told you I’m not in Italy to party. I’m here to find my mother. I have no intention of dating or picking up men. Just get me to Tuscany, and I’ll figure out what to do there.”

  “There’s a bus from Greve to Florence. I used to take it all the time.” Daniel lifted her large suitcase and his bags. “How about I give you a lift to that?”

  She tucked Lizzy into her backpack and pulled her carry-on behind her. “Sounds perfect. How long is the drive there?” she asked as they locked up the door and began to walk downstairs.

  “About three hours.”

  “Do you think Lizzy can handle being in the car for three hours?”

  Daniel rolled his eyes. “She is a dog. She’ll fall asleep and wake up there. She’ll be fine.”

  “All right, but I hope we’re not driving in that tiny car you tried to kill me in yesterday,” Julia said as they exited the building.

  “Another disappointment then,” Daniel said as he pointed at his silver Fiat, parked next to the building.

  Chapter 7

  Daniel wasn’t certain how he ended up with an American, a dog, and an extra set of suitcases in the bloody Fiat. The said puppy was curled up in the back seat, feigning innocence. Last night, the idea of a puppy as a present for Mia had appeared brilliant to Daniel, when he was exhausted and somewhat intoxicated by his romantic evening of walking around Rome with Julia.

  Now, in the sunlight and in the cramped quarters, with an additional passenger and a dog, things appeared different. He had to remind himself over and over that last night had nothing to do with romance. Educational—that’s what it was. He needed to learn more about Rome’s architecture to redo the museum building structure, so he took a research walk around the city. That’s all it was.

  And today he only offered to help Julia because he wanted the dog. It was a fair proposition, really—he required a present for a sick child, and Julia wanted to be rid of it. He should’ve just taken the dog and not Julia, but he couldn’t quite find a way to be direct with the American. She was attached to the mutt. It would be enough of a challenge to get her to part with it when they got to Greve. When he told her the truth. There was no need to create a scene yet.

  He suddenly felt guilty. But was he really doing anything wrong? Wasn’t he just helping her? Didn’t she say she was looking for a place to take the dog so she could find her mother? He looked over at her, reclining in her seat, her yellow dress making her look very Italian.

  “Why are you so quiet, Texas?” he asked. Damn the guilt. He wouldn’t let it get to his head. Or his heart.

  She looked at him from under her sunglasses. “I don’t wish to distract you. I’m aware of your driving skills.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with my driving. You weren’t watching where you were going yesterday. And I managed to stop, didn’t I?”

  “Hmph,” she said, attempting to stretch her legs.

  He’d have to come up with something to talk about to distract himself from looking at her legs. Definitely, not his driving skills. Maybe he should point out a few more architectural highlights. She seemed to enjoy that yesterday.

  “So what’s with the white shirts?” Julia interrupted his thoughts.

  “What?” He turned and looked at her in surprise.

  “Your shirt.” She pointed. “You only ever wear buttoned-down white shirts.”

  He hadn’t expected conversation about his appearance. “You’ve only kn
own me for two days. Why do you assume that’s all I wear?”

  “I know your type.”

  He raised his brows and inhaled deeply. “It’s easier to shop that way. Just buy a dozen when I need new shirts.”

  “All in white? You are not afraid to spill tomato sauce on them?”

  What an odd thing to say. “Why would anyone spill tomato sauce on their shirt?”

  They crawled north through the outskirts of Rome, through weekend traffic to the country. Daniel tapped on the steering wheel and tried not to stare at Julia’s legs as she bent them, one at a time, removing her sandals. He suddenly remembered the feel of her cheek under his lips and imagined what her lips would feel like if he kissed them in the Tuscany sunshine. Bloody hell. He shifted in his seat and turned on the radio. Even some Italian pop would do. There. The radio blasted the songs from his teenage years.

  “Is this like from the 80s?” Julia asked.

  “The 90s,” Daniel corrected her.

  “It’s very Italian.”

  He shrugged.

  “So, you wanna talk about it?” she asked, turning the radio volume down.

  “Talk about what?”

  “Your job? What happened yesterday? You are an architect, but you have fresh scabs on your knuckles. You said your project got rejected. So I assume you either got into a fight or punched something. That’s not what I imagine an architect’s day should be like.” She smiled. “Especially not an architect who buys all white shirts to wear every day.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?” he asked, gripping the wheel. Anger stirred deep in his belly.

  “We have a long ride. And traffic. What kind of museum are you building?” she asked.

  “The new Museum of Natural Science. I presented the final plans for approval yesterday, and as I told you, the board refused to sign off.” Daniel honked at the car that tried to squeeze in front of the Fiat. “That’s what happened yesterday.”