by Pamela Yaye
Romeo was disappointed, but he nodded his head in understanding. Thanking the couple for their hospitality, he shook hands with Davide and kissed Aurora on the cheek.
“Don’t be a stranger,” Aurora said in a stern voice, though her eyes were smiling. “Next time you come over for dinner, bring your sister. We’d love to meet her.”
In the foyer, Davide retrieved Romeo’s coat from the closet and handed it to him.
Putting it on, he noticed Zoe standing beside the bookshelf. She waved, and for the second time in minutes, Romeo lost the battle with his flesh. He marched toward her and took her in his arms. Wanting to prove how he felt about her—even though the Bordellios were looking on—he kissed her soft, sweet mouth. Romeo wanted to pick up where they’d left off on the couch, but he felt the tension in her upper body and didn’t want to upset her. Scared he was going to lose control, he whispered, “Buona notte, bellissima,” against her mouth, then turned and strode out the door.
Chapter 12
Thick gray clouds floated across the December sky, and the air smelled of rain, but there was nowhere else Zoe would rather be than biking through the streets of Milan with Jiovanni. The gloomy weather didn’t detract from the beauty of her surroundings, and feeling the wind against her face had a calming effect on her. Every Sunday after morning Mass at the basilica Santa Maria delle Grazie, they’d bike to a nearby bistro to have brunch, then peruse the local flea markets. They’d shopped at booths selling seasonal crafts and traditional winter food and chatted with the vendors about their unique Christmas wares. It was the official start of the holiday season, and the towering cypress trees decorated in colored lights made the city look festive.
“Fifty years ago the rich were ‘forced’ to shop abroad in cities like Paris and London, but not anymore,” Jiovanni explained, gripping the handlebars of his orange all-terrain bike. “I love fashion, but I liked it better when Milan had more green space and fewer boutiques...”
Listening with rapt attention, Zoe soaked up every word he said. Thanks to Jiovanni, she’d not only learned her way around Milan in a few short weeks, she’d also discovered interesting facts about Italy’s most fashionable and sophisticated city. He pointed out ancient ruins, educated her about the significance of the architecture and offered valuable insights about living in the bustling metropolitan city. There was more to Milan than just fine cuisine and haute couture, and Zoe enjoyed Jiovanni’s stories about the “good old days.”
Pumping her brakes, Zoe swerved to avoid hitting a toddler who’d broken away from his family and darted in front of her bike. Milanese locals strolled about, hustling up and down the cobblestoned streets, laughing, snapping selfies and eating gelato.
Admiring the skyscrapers, the modern buildings and the attractive couples streaming in and out of restaurants and bars, Zoe soaked up the atmosphere of the city, the sounds of life and happiness swirling around her.
In the distance, Zoe spotted a wedding party posing for pictures in front of the Duomo and smiled. She loved weddings, and she couldn’t take her eyes off the glowing couple hugging in front of the cathedral. They kissed for the cameras, and the sight warmed her heart. Soon it will be my turn, she thought. I’ll meet Mr. Right, he’ll sweep me off my feet, and we’ll spend the rest of our lives loving each other.
An image of Romeo filled her thoughts. The memory of their first kiss burned bright in her mind. Played over and over again. That wasn’t the worst of it. Feeling tipsy and flirtatious after several glasses of wine, she’d agreed to be his date for the Il Divo concert, but now she had second thoughts. Should she cancel? Should she go, but keep her distance?
Keep your distance? As if! responded her inner voice. You were all over Romeo last night!
Thinking about their impromptu make-out session in Aurora and Davide’s living room caused goose bumps to break out. Romeo was unlike anyone she’d ever met, and being with him gave her a rush. They came from two different worlds, but she was curious about Romeo and his large, close-knit family. To her surprise, there was nothing cocky about him. They’d had so much fun at Aurora and Davide’s apartment, Zoe was confident they’d have a good time at the Il Divo concert.
Slowing down so their bikes were side by side, Jiovanni led her through the crowded streets, around pedestrians weighed down with glitzy shopping bags and the luxury cars idling in front of stores. He suggested activities for them to do, but Zoe didn’t feel like heading across town to Jiovanni’s favorite museum. They’d been outside for hours, and just the thought of biking for another ninety minutes made her legs weak.
“Evasione is playing at Cinema Centrale at three o’clock.” Jiovanni consulted his gold wristwatch. “That gives us an hour to get there. We better hurry, or we won’t get seats.”
“Or we could stop and have a snack at Goloso di Dolci,” she proposed, her mouth watering at the thought of a sweet treat. “I’d love a cup of coffee and some gelato.”
Jiovanni pointed across the street at the popular café on the corner. Famous for its unique flavors, fresh ingredients and generous servings, the ice cream shop was beloved by locals. “Count me out. There’s a line around the block to get in.”
“Okay. No worries,” she said with a smile and a wave. “I’ll see you tomorrow at work.”
“All right, all right, quit twisting my arm. I’m coming.”
Zoe smirked. “Of course you are. You love Goloso di Dolci more than I do!”
Stopping at the intersection, they got off their bikes, locked them to a lamppost swathed in garland, and jogged across the street. Joining the slow-moving line, Zoe took out her cell and checked her email. Her parents wanted her to call home, Shelby had sent dozens of pictures of her new Long Island apartment, and Aurora ranted about the full-figured line.
Get over it already! she thought, rolling her eyes. Zoe didn’t understand why Aurora was being difficult. Last night, after Romeo left, Davide had thanked her profusely for pitching the Chic and Curvy line and assured her they’d vigorously promote it. He even agreed to a photo shoot in Naples next Friday, so why was Aurora being negative?
“I heard about the stunt you pulled last night at Aurora and Davide’s apartment,” Jiovanni said with a knowing smile. “You have huge cojones.”
Stunned, Zoe glanced up from her cell phone, her mouth agape. Aurora had sworn her to secrecy about the dinner party, and even though she was dying to tell Jiovanni about Romeo and their magical first kiss, she’d respected her boss’s wishes.
“I know a lot of gutsy women, but you’re in a league of your own. You said you were going to do everything in your power to help Casa Di Moda succeed, and you meant it.” Jiovanni saluted. “All hail the queen.”
Zoe didn’t laugh. “Who told you about the dinner party?”
“Lady Aurora, of course. She called me during lunch while I was in the men’s room and cursed me out for filling your head with outrageous ideas.”
“Why didn’t you say anything when you returned to the table?”
“Because you were flirting with the owner and I didn’t want to ruin the mood!”
Zoe stuck out her tongue. “I was not flirting. You’re just jealous because he comped my lunch.”
“Guilty as charged. I hate seeing you with other men. You’re my future wife, remember?” Jiovanni gave her a one-arm hug. “I’m proud of you, Zoe. What you did took guts. Aurora should be thanking you for saving Casa Di Moda instead of bad-mouthing you.”
Her ears perked up, and she cranked her head in Jiovanni’s direction. Bad-mouthing me? What did Aurora say? She opened her mouth to ask, but told herself it didn’t matter. Zoe knew she’d done the right thing and was confident one day Aurora would realize it, too. In the meantime, she’d call in favors from her friends at various fashion magazines and work her connections. It was up to her to get the word out about the Chic and Curvy
line, and she would. One post at a time. Going forward, the brand would be front and center on the social media pages. For her sake and for Casa Di Moda—she hoped the line was a smashing success.
“I know Aurora’s your shero, and you think she’s the best thing since platform sneakers were invented, but she has a history of using people, so be smart. Don’t let her diminutive stature fool you. She’s a she-devil in couture!”
“Then why are you working for her?”
His face paled, and his lips curled into a sneer. “Soon, Designs by Jiovanni, will take the fashion world by storm, and the years I wasted at Casa Di Moda will be a distant memory.”
Bothered by his comments, Zoe held her tongue. All week he’d been in a funk, but whenever she tried to talk to him about his negative attitude, he’d brushed her off. Their colleagues were tired of his endless bitching and complaining about management, too. Aurora could be stubborn at times, but she was also thoughtful and generous, and Zoe wanted to see the fashion house succeed. It was a challenging time for the company, but she wanted to be part of the solution, not the problem.
“I told you this was a bad idea,” Jiovanni grumbled. “We should go somewhere else.”
The line wasn’t moving, and the café was packed with wall-to-wall customers, but Zoe wasn’t going anywhere until she had something to eat from her favorite café.
“You’re shivering.” Leaning over, Jiovanni wrapped her up in his arms and rubbed her shoulders. “Go inside and grab us a table.”
“But you don’t know what I want to order.”
“Of course I do. You want an iced caramel latte with three sugars, two scoops of pistachio gelato, and one scoop of hazelnut gelato.”
Beaming, Zoe rested a hand on her chest. “A man after my own heart.”
“And don’t you forget it.”
* * *
Twenty minutes later, Jiovanni sat down at the corner table Zoe had found beside the window. Carrying a tray of food, he complained in Italian about the clerk who’d screwed up his order. To appease him, Zoe opened her neon-pink backpack, took out enough money to cover the entire bill and stuffed it into his shirt pocket. “Thanks, Jiovanni. It’s on me.”
“Great, now I have enough money to wine and dine Alessandra.”
“That’s the woman you met at the jazz bar, right? How are things going with her?”
“Wonderful. She’s going to help me raise money to launch my fashion label.”
“How? I thought she was a hotel manager at a fancy downtown hotel.”
“She is, and she promised to provide me with intimate details about the rich.”
“I’m confused.” Zoe furrowed her brow. “Why do you need to know the whereabouts of hotel guests? How is that going to help you raise money for your fashion label?”
Jiovanni raised his cell in the air. “I’m now a paparazzo,” he announced. “I’m going to take compromising photographs of celebrities. If they don’t agree to buy them back from me, I’ll sell them to the tabloids. I call it a win-win business deal.”
“No, Jiovanni, it’s called blackmail.”
Zoe was so disappointed in him she didn’t want to hear any more about his get-rich scheme. But she felt compelled to tell Jiovanni he was playing with fire. She warned him about the dangers of blackmailing rich people. Instead of addressing her concerns, he changed the subject. Blindsided by his question about Romeo, she stared down at her cup of gelato.
“Aurora said you and Romeo hit it off last night,” he said, raising his coffee mug to his lips. “Is that true, or wishful thinking on her part?”
Heat warmed her skin. We did more than just hit it off, Zoe thought. We kissed, and it was the most amazing ninety seconds of my life!
The truth must have shown on her face, because his shoulders drooped. He made a noise in his throat, then coughed like a smoker on his deathbed.
“The media doesn’t call Romeo the Sexy Devil for nothing.”
Zoe wasn’t one to kiss and tell, but she was excited about Romeo and wanted to tell Jiovanni about their incredible night. Before she could, he spoke in a somber tone of voice.
“Stay away from him,” Jiovanni warned. “He’s trouble with a capital T.”
“You sound like Shelby. We talked this morning. She said I should play hard to get and make Romeo jump through hoops if he wants to be with me, but that’s not me. I like him a lot, and I want to get to know him better, so that’s what I’m going to do.”
“Why would you want Romeo Morretti when you have me?”
“That’s just nasty,” she joked. “We could never date. You’re like a brother to me—”
“Quit saying that,” he snapped, raising his voice. “We’re not family.”
“We might as well be. You’re a true friend, Jiovanni. I value your opinion, but you’re wrong about Romeo. He’s not the selfish womanizer the tabloids make him out to be.”
“Yes, he is. He has a checkered past and a horrible track record with women. Don’t believe me? Google him—you’ll see that I’m right.”
“Thanks for your concern, J, but I’m a smart cookie. I know what I’m doing.”
“Do you? No disrespect, Zoe, but you’re an easy target. I’m worried you’ll get hurt.”
An easy target? What is that supposed to mean?
“By your own admission, you’ve only had one serious relationship, so you have no idea how men operate. They can be ruthless, especially guys like Romeo Morretti.”
“Don’t worry about me. I can handle him.”
And by handle, you mean kiss him until you’re breathless, right? asked her inner voice.
“Fine, suit yourself, but don’t come crying to me when he breaks your heart.”
Worried she was going to lose her temper, Zoe admired the Christmas decorations inside the café. Giant paper ornaments hung from the ceiling, chairs were tied with red ribbons, and snowflakes were stuck to the window. Spotting a black sports car—that looked like something out of a James Bond movie—pull up to the curb, she noticed everyone on the street stop what they were doing to stare at the new arrival.
Jiovanni whistled. “Wow, what a beauty.”
“You’ve seen one overpriced luxury car, you’ve seen them all.”
“Did you know that the Alfa Romeo Disco Volante is one of the most coveted Italian sports cars in the world?” he asked, an awestruck expression on his face. “They only make a handful of them a year, and only the richest of the rich can afford the million-dollar price tag.”
“What a waste of money. It’s just a car—”
Jiovanni pressed a finger to her lips, and a giggle fell from Zoe’s mouth.
“Woman, hush your mouth. It’s not just a car. It’s a work of art. Show some respect.”
They laughed, and the tension hovering about their table disappeared.
The driver’s-side door opened, and a dark-haired man in aviator sunglasses emerged. Zoe did a double take. Then another. Romeo! Goose bumps rippled across her skin as she watched her dreamy, brown-eyed crush march around the hood of the car. Opening the other door, Romeo helped his passenger to her feet and draped an arm around her shoulder. Zoe’s stomach clenched. Surely her eyes were deceiving her. Blinking rapidly, Zoe struggled to focus her gaze.
Zoe leaned forward in her seat, couldn’t take her eyes off Romeo and his date. With their creamy olive skin, dark hair and model-perfect features, they made a striking couple. As they headed toward the café, the crowd parted like the Red Sea. The brunette was fashionably dressed in a white fringe sweater, skinny jeans and beige heels, and Zoe suspected she was in the entertainment business. Watching them, she realized Romeo had lied to her about being single. Zoe wanted to run outside and confront him, but she forced herself to remain in her seat.
“I told you, Romeo Morretti
isn’t worth your time,” Jiovanni said, a sympathetic expression on his face. “Do you want to leave?”
Picking up her spoon, she resumed eating her gelato. “No. Of course not.”
“Just ignore him. Pretend he’s not here.”
Zoe scoffed. Romeo wasn’t the kind of man a woman could ignore, but she was determined to try. Wanting to be a good friend, she turned away from the window, listening as Jiovanni chatted about his plans for New Year’s Eve. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the owner of the café sprint through the open door and greet Romeo and his date. Leading the couple inside the shop, he ushered them to the front of the line and filled their orders.
“Entitled bastard,” Jiovanni grumbled. “Romeo gets preferential treatment everywhere he goes in Milan, and it’s unfair. He’s no better than anyone else. He should have to wait in line like the rest of us.”
“Oh, stop, you use your looks to get preferential treatment all the time—”
The sound of Romeo’s voice filled the air, and Zoe trailed off speaking.
“I was just talking about you, and here you are. Che meravigliosa coincidenza.”
Zoe froze. Her eyes were wide, her spoon was suspended in midair, and the walls of her throat were so thick she couldn’t swallow. What a wonderful coincidence? You’re happy to see me? Really? she thought, feeling as if she were having an out-of-body experience. “Romeo, what are you doing here?” she asked. “I thought you had to work today.”
“I do, but Francesca dropped by the office and insisted I take her out for lunch,” he explained. “She’s my favorite sister, so of course I agreed.”
Relief flooded Zoe’s body. “That’s so sweet of you, Romeo.”
“Boy, please,” Francesca said, swatting her brother’s shoulder. “You’re not fooling anyone with that good-boy act. I’m your only sister.”
The siblings laughed, and watching them together made Zoe miss her sister.
Introductions were made, and everyone shook hands.