‘Here we are,’ he said as they reached the back of the queue. ‘It looks a lot worse than it is.’ He held out a hand. ‘I’m Jamie, by the way.’
‘Kate,’ she replied, shaking it. ‘Thank you.’
‘Don’t thank me now; we’re not in a cab yet.’
‘But for saving me from getting ripped off.’
‘Oh, I don’t know that you would have been ripped off exactly, but this way is a lot safer for your euros. How long are you staying in Rome?’
‘A week.’
‘A week’s good – plenty of time to see everything properly. Most people don’t stay long enough. Anyone flying out to join you?’
‘No.’
‘If you don’t mind me saying, that’s bold.’
‘You think? I hadn’t really considered it that way; it was a bit of a spontaneous decision to come if I’m honest. I just wanted to get away.’
‘Sounds enigmatic. What did you want to get away from?’
She shrugged. ‘Home. Everything.’
‘Something you’d rather not talk about?’
‘It’s no big deal,’ she said. ‘But I won’t bore you with it. You know that film Airplane!?’
He nodded. ‘Oooh, that’s an oldie. I love that movie.’
‘That bit where the main character is telling everyone his problems and they’re all so desperately bored they’re finding ways to kill themselves? That’s what would happen if I told you about it.’
‘You’d better not tell me then,’ he laughed.
‘Exactly.’
They shuffled down the line, and in ten minutes they were chatting like old friends. Kate didn’t feel nearly as vulnerable as she had on her arrival and was beginning to enjoy Jamie’s company immensely. She wondered what his schedule was for his stay, and whether he’d have time to spend with her. Not that she wanted to hang on his coat-tails all day, of course, and not that she wanted to come across as a desperate sap who couldn’t do anything for herself, but it would be nice to get to know him and have a little company from time to time, perhaps for meals and such. Maybe then Rome wouldn’t seem so scary after all.
The taxi crawled through the city. For some reason Kate had never imagined it would be so busy and so chaotic. Bikes and mopeds darted through parked and moving cars alike at terrifying speeds so that you never saw them coming until they were already upon you, and she kept jumping as they ripped past the open cab windows. Horns sounded with alarming regularity and traffic fumes intensified the soupy heat. Despite the pandemonium that seemed to characterise the roads, their driver was cheerful, unaware of the madness he worked in and humming along to something on the radio as he drummed on the steering wheel.
Jamie was happy to have Kate dropped off at her hotel first, and by the time they reached it almost an hour later, she had learned that he came from Texas originally but now lived in New York, that he worked in advertising for a swanky multinational company and visited clients all over the world, that his dad was a used-car salesman and his mum had run for mayor of their town twice but failed to get elected both times, so had decided to use her time to raise funds to feed and clothe the poor instead. Jamie’s brother was also turning to politics and his career showed rather more promise than their mother’s had, and Jamie himself had left a boyfriend back in New York who had recently proposed to him. At this information Kate had heaved a melodramatic sigh, lamented that all the good men were taken or batting for the other side, and they had giggled together, a sure sign that her offbeat sense of humour was something he instinctively understood. It was a good sign, but even if he had been available, and despite the fact that he was supernaturally handsome, Kate wasn’t sure she was quite ready to throw herself into dating just yet. As they chatted, however, she quickly decided that she would probably have liked him better as a friend anyway, free of all the emotional traps of a full-on sexual relationship, which only ever served to complicate nice, clean, fun camaraderie in any case. You knew where you were with a man who wasn’t trying to get into your knickers.
He had been so open and entertaining with the details of his life that Kate had found herself opening up too, and before long she had regaled him with the whole history of her and Matt. She told him all about the twenty-year plan they had drawn up when they first got married, about how she’d spent the whole of the inheritance left to her after her dad had died, and then how they’d scrimped and saved for the rest of the deposit so they could buy their dream house; how everyone said they’d married so young it wouldn’t last and how they’d laughed at the fuss, how she’d put off having kids at his request because every year he said he didn’t feel ready and how frustrated that made her. It was cathartic, healing, and despite all the lows she began to see the memories of their relationship in a far more positive light than she had before. Far from being the disaster it had felt like when the divorce finally came through, she began to remember the good times, the growing up together, how they had shaped each other for the better. The twelve years she had spent married to Matt hadn’t been a waste at all; they had been an experience, and like all life experiences, they had intrinsic value for the way they helped decide who we became.
‘Sounds like you had a rough time,’ Jamie commented as she came to the end of the tale. ‘I’m not surprised you felt like you wanted to get away.’
‘It felt like it at the beginning. That day when I came home and found Matt in the hallway with his cases I thought my life had ended.’
‘But you seem to be OK now.’
‘I’m a lot better, but I have good friends and family around me and that helped.’
‘That’s lucky.’ He smiled. ‘The people we surround ourselves with can make a huge difference to how we deal with life.’ He pulled a card from his pocket as the cab slowed to a halt outside a cream-fronted building. ‘Here’s my number. It’s the company phone, but I answer night and day so call me if you need anything while you’re here.’
Kate glanced out of the window as she took it. ‘Thank you – that’s so kind. It’s been lovely to share a taxi with you.’
‘I’ve enjoyed your company so it was no favour. It can get a little lonely here on your own all the time.’
She gave him another grateful smile, and then turned her gaze to the window again. They were parked outside a building of almost golden stone, wide ground-floor windows and a revolving glass door, festooned with Italian, European Union and various other flags that Kate didn’t recognise hanging from poles protruding from the brickwork a few floors up. An old man in a black suit stood sentry at the entrance, greeting visitors who came to the doors.
‘I think this is your hotel,’ Jamie prompted.
‘Oh! Yes, of course . . . I hadn’t realised!’
‘It’s pretty nice – must have cost some . . .’
Kate shook her head, feeling rather flustered at his obvious insinuation. ‘Don’t imagine for a moment I’m rich or anything. This represents a huge hit on my credit card. But you know. . .’ she gave a guilty little shrug, ‘I’ll worry about that when I get home. It’s not every day you get divorced and need to let your hair down.’
‘And there was me thinking I’d found myself a new millionaire friend.’
‘Silly. . . I wish. . .’ She fumbled in her purse and thrust a handful of notes at him. ‘Is that enough to cover my half of the cab fare?’
‘I’ll tell you what I’ll do,’ he said. ‘As you’re not a millionaire after all, I’ll put this on my expenses, and then you can meet me for dinner and a drink later. How does that sound?’
‘I couldn’t—’
‘If I’d travelled alone I’d have been paying the full fare anyway so it makes no difference to my company.’
‘But—’
‘Honestly, it’s nothing. I hope you don’t think this forward, but what are your plans tonight?’
‘I didn’t really have any.’
‘There’s a great little place around the corner from here – Trattoria da Luigi. I
’m going to eat there so why don’t you meet me at around seven-thirty? Or later if that suits you better? Will that give you enough time to settle in at your hotel and freshen up? I could even come and meet you earlier. . . Show you around the immediate area a little. It’s handy to know where the 7-Eleven is in case you have a desperate urge for candy.’
‘They have 7-Elevens here in Rome?’
‘No,’ Jamie laughed. ‘But I could show you the closest thing they do have.’
Kate paused. She liked Jamie but she hardly knew him. But this was her new life, wasn’t it? The new Kate? And would the new Kate be scared of a friendly meal with a man who had been very kind to her and was safely engaged to the man of his dreams back in New York? And as for a friendly wander around the streets in broad daylight in full view of a thousand tourists – ditto. What possible reason was there to be scared?
‘Yes,’ she decided. ‘I’d love that.’
‘Great! You have my number, so I’ll take yours too. I’ll let you settle in and you can call me when you’re ready to go.’
Kate’s smile was rather more assured than she felt as they tinkered on their phones to exchange details. But she had committed now, and only time would tell if it was a good idea.
Chapter Four
It was a strange little convenience store, tucked away in the backstreets of an impossibly romantic city with a distinctly tired and unromantic air about it. Goods were stacked high in tight aisles with barely enough room to pass a stranger coming the other way, illuminated by flickering strip lights while a radio hummed opera in the background. But it was just what Jamie had promised – an all sorts shop where one could buy everything from pan scourers to milk.
‘Well. . . this is interesting,’ Kate said as she picked up a tin picturing some unidentifiable food on the front.
‘This is the real Rome,’ Jamie replied with a grin. ‘It can’t all be gelato and Gucci.’
‘And you use this place a lot?’
He shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t say a lot. But occasionally when I need gum or a newspaper.’
‘And I thought I was going to see the sights.’
‘Plenty of time for that. You need to know where the important stuff is first.’ He raised his eyebrows at the can she was still holding. ‘You want to buy that?’
‘No,’ Kate laughed, putting it quickly back on the shelf. ‘Or maybe I would if I knew what it was.’
‘You want to walk further on? There are some other shops down this alleyway that might be more to your taste.’
‘I’d rather go for a walk outside. There’s loads of time for shops; I want to soak up a bit of atmosphere.’
‘OK. How about we walk and find somewhere for coffee?’
‘How about we walk and find gelato?’ Kate asked with an impish grin. ‘I’m feeling naughty.’
‘Well that won’t be too difficult as there’s a great little place on this row. If it wasn’t tucked away in such a terrible location, I swear you wouldn’t be able to get near it, it would be so famous. Lucky for us it’s never that busy and their flavours are to die for.’
‘Now that’s what I’m talking about!’ Kate grinned. ‘Lead on!’
‘So, is your hotel as amazing as it looks?’ Jamie asked as he held the shop door open for her and they emerged into the balmy air of the streets once more.
‘It’s nice,’ Kate said as they began to walk.
‘That doesn’t sound very enthusiastic.’
‘If I’m honest I feel a bit like a fish out of water. I sort of wish I’d picked somewhere a bit cheaper and a bit more homely now. But it’s OK and I have everything I need.’
‘Maybe you’ll get used to a bit of luxury once you’ve spent a week in it.’
‘Maybe, but I doubt it. I think I’m just not a luxury kind of girl.’
‘Honey, isn’t everyone a luxury kind of girl at heart?’
‘You aren’t,’ Kate said, shooting him a sideways glance. ‘As you’re not a girl.’
‘For a deep bathtub and good room service I could pretend.’
Kate giggled. ‘Doesn’t your boss let you stay in the good hotels?’
‘Oh, they’re good enough. The one I’m in at the moment is one I’ve used for the past year and they know me, which is always great.’
‘You get looked after?’
‘For sure.’
‘So you’ve been to Rome lots of times this year?’
‘Three times to Rome. Sometimes I’m in Milan, sometimes I have to go to Geneva.’
‘It sounds wonderful.’
‘I guess. It seems I’m lucky to others but you soon take the travelling for granted. I miss Brad when I’m away too.’
‘Do you think you’ll ever stop and get another job that doesn’t need travelling?’
‘Maybe when Brad and I get married. But that won’t be for a couple of years yet.’
‘Why so long?’
‘He wants a huge, lavish reception, and in New York a huge, lavish reception means a huge budget. We’re saving for the party of the century!’
‘Ah. . . a hopeless romantic, eh? Good for you. I hope it’s amazing.’
‘All weddings are romantic, aren’t they? Isn’t that kinda the point?’
‘You’d think, wouldn’t you?’
‘Something tells me you were short-changed when it came to the romance in your marriage. . .’
‘You could say that. We were so young when we married we had hardly any money, and my parents weren’t all that keen on stumping up for what they saw as a huge mistake. They were used to Matt being around because we’d been together for so long, but that didn’t mean they were happy about us getting married. We had to make do with a party at the local pub and Matt got leathered because that’s what eighteen-year-old lads do, isn’t it?’
Jamie raised his eyebrows. ‘I’d agree if I knew what that meant. What the hell is leathered?’
‘Drunk,’ Kate laughed. ‘He got pissed.’
‘He was annoyed?’ Jamie frowned.
‘No, pissed means drunk in Britain, not annoyed. And you can piss yourself, which sometimes means you’re laughing and sometimes means you’ve actually urinated over yourself. . . or you can be pissed off at something or someone, and that means you’re annoyed.’
Jamie scratched his head. ‘And I thought learning Italian was hard.’
‘They do say Britain and America are two nations separated by a common language.’
‘And don’t even get me started on the accents. What’s yours?’
‘Mancunian.’
‘What’s that?’
‘From Manchester. Is it hard for you to follow? I don’t think I’m as broad as some.’
‘What does broad mean?’
Kate rolled her eyes. ‘This is hard work. My accent isn’t as strong as some people from Manchester.’
‘Right. What’s the weird one that even English people can’t understand?’
‘I have no idea!’ Kate giggled. ‘You could take your pick from lots of regional accents in the UK. Which one is your favourite from what you’ve heard?’
He shrugged. ‘Irish sounds kinda hot. Scottish too.’
Kate nodded. ‘I think most of the population of the UK would be in agreement with you on that. Although you might not want to tell all the people from Ireland you might meet that you think they’re British. . . that’s just Northern Ireland, you know.’
Jamie gave a vague smile, as if it was all the same to him. ‘So you’d maybe like to score yourself an Irish guy now that you’re single?’ he asked.
‘It’s certainly an accent that would make me forgive a whole lot of ugliness,’ she laughed.
Jamie shot her a grin before coming to a halt outside a tiny shop with a pastel bright window display. Kate moved closer and pressed her nose to the glass like a little kid being shown the best sweet shop in the world. Which was pretty much what it looked like to her.
‘I have no idea what to choose,’ she said, gazing intentl
y at the gleaming steel pots where candy-coloured clouds of gelato called to tempt her. The flavours were written below on the shelf in both Italian and English.
‘The pistachio is amazing,’ Jamie said. ‘So is the dark chocolate and coffee flavour – a great combo. There are no fancy, crazy flavours here like the tourist places; they stick to the traditional ones and do them well. But it’s the real deal and the best you’ll get in Rome.’
‘Coffee sounds good. Maybe I’ll get dark chocolate with it. . . you know, why not let my hair down?’
‘That’s what I’m talking about!’ Jamie said. Holding the door open for her, he gestured for her to step in.
As they made their way to the counter, there was a customer in front, a man who looked at first glance to be somewhere around his mid-thirties and not bad looking. Kate immediately detected the accent as he spoke to the assistant, and she glanced across to Jamie and saw him grin as he registered it too.
‘Irish, right?’ he whispered.
Kate nodded and let out a conspiratorial giggle.
But their private joke soon became her worst nightmare as Jamie tapped the man on the shoulder.
‘Hey, buddy. . . you’re Irish?’
The man turned, looking surprised. A quick appraisal of Kate and Jamie and he seemed to decide that he was not being accosted from anything but friendly curiosity and he smiled. ‘From Cork. You have Irish ancestors?’
‘Oh, no. . . Scandinavian, though we’re Texan for at least five generations now. But my friend here, Kate, is on the hunt for a hot Irish guy. . . You married, buddy? Because if you ain’t, I may just have found you a future wife.’
Kate wanted to curl up with embarrassment as the man looked at her. She couldn’t decipher the look on his face, but it was somewhere between amusement, pity and the same horror she was feeling herself at Jamie’s blunt introduction.
‘Jamie is kidding,’ she said quickly. ‘He’s just messing around.’
Jamie looked surprised as he eyed Kate, and she raised her eyebrows in a silent warning for him not to say anything further.
Rome is Where the Heart is: An uplifting romantic read, perfect to escape with (From Italy with Love Book 1) Page 3