by Magan Vernon
Of course, Sammy followed, not letting up. “You’re smiling like you have a secret. You see the bella? Make those American girls know what it’s like to be with an Italian stallion?” He wiggled his furry eyebrows.
“Nothing like that at all,” I grumbled.
“Are we talking about the girl from last night?” Sal asked, walking over from his prep table.
“Who else would have Sonny walking like he’s stuffed his pants with salami?” Sammy asked, laughing and nudging my shoulder.
“Y’all are nuts,” I said, making sure to adjust myself over my jeans before washing my hands.
Girls were usually easy for me. I could love ‘em and leave ‘em. And none of them ever got me hard from one little kiss.
“So it is the bella?” Michael asked, approaching from one of the ovens.
I wiped my hands on a towel from the rack and turned toward my cousins who stared at me like three eager dogs waiting for a scrap. “Yeah, I saw her at the botanical garden.”
They all laughed and smiled widely.
“And?” Sal asked. “We need details.”
I shrugged. “Not much to say. I’m picking her up at her dorm tomorrow night.”
“Where are you taking her? The back alley behind the restaurant?” Michael laughed.
I shook my head. “No. She’s not that type of girl.”
Sammy nudged Sal’s shoulder. “See? I told you … Cinderella.”
I sighed, running my fingers through my hair. “I didn’t think that far ahead. Hell, I took girls to the exact same restaurant every time I’d go out in Austin before going back to my apartment, but this is different. She’s different. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. Can y’all help me out?”
The guys all looked at each other then nodded before Sammy smiled at me, putting his hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, cuz. We got you.”
***
I showed up at Virginia’s dorm right on time. I thought I’d be late since Sammy’s family didn’t own an iron. I ended up having to borrow one from the florist across the street so I didn’t show up in wrinkled slacks and a white button-down.
Most girls I took out wore either the nicest or the most revealing thing they could find with too much makeup and teased hair.
I wasn’t even sure Virginia owned a dress, standing at the front of her building in a gauzy shirt and some shorts with worn-out tennis shoes on her feet.
“Glad you got dressed up for me,” I said with a smirk.
“This is dressed up. I’m pretty sure this shirt doesn’t have a paint stain on it like most of my other ones,” she said, holding out the thin fabric and showing me just a hint of her freckled stomach.
“Well, I hope they let you in with your paint-less shirt,” I said, putting my arm around her shoulders and walking in step to the sidewalk.
“I think any restaurant will accept what I’m wearing. If you don’t like it, you can go on a date with yourself.”
I laughed. “Well, I hope you ate in your dorm because we aren’t going out for dinner. Maybe after. But right now, we can’t be late.”
“Late for what?” she asked, looking up at me with a raised eyebrow.
I smiled down at her, meeting those curious green eyes.
“I have tickets for a concierto at Teatro Massimo. My cousins said it’s the place to take a girl. I even sprung for the balcony seats.”
She blinked hard. “You have got to be shitting me.”
She then looked down at her shirt. “I can’t wear this to the theatre! I haven’t even been in there yet! What if I see one of my professors, and they think I’m some unruly American girl?”
I laughed, squeezing her shoulder. “I’m pretty sure you are an unruly American girl, and it’s part of your charm.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Real funny. You’re just a comedian, Sonny.”
I sighed and stopped walking, turning toward her. “Look, I just wanted to do something nice. Show you that I’m not the player or whatever you think I am. I’m just a guy from Texas, here in Sicily, asking another American to go with him to the theatre.”
A small smile quirked on her lips. “Schaumburg.”
“What?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
She looped her arm through mine and started walking, pulling me with her. “I’m from Schaumburg. It’s a suburb of Chicago.”
I grinned, feeling like the weight of the world had been lifted off my shoulders. “And how does a girl from Schaumburg end up in Palermo, walking to the theatre with a guy from Friendship, Texas?”
***
We made our way to the theatre as she told me about her four years in art school in Chicago and doing internships in Rome and New York. But always wanting something more, she applied for her masters in Palermo.
I told her about going to UT Austin, and my loud Sicilian family back home. We didn’t stop talking even as we got to the private balcony seats and looked over the magnificent theatre to the orchestra below.
It wasn’t until the conductor took the stage that our conversation ceased. A conversation I never wanted to end.
As the first song began, I couldn’t concentrate on anything else but how close she was to me. One little move to my left and my elbow would graze hers or my knee would brush along her bare legs. How I longed to touch Virginia again. To feel those lips on mine.
Normally, I just took control with girls and took what I wanted, but with her, she had the control, and she knew it.
Slowly, as the song came to the crescendo, I felt something against my leg. I looked down just as Virginia slid her hand over and interlaced our fingers.
It was a tame gesture, but something about it felt intimate and made me smile.
I didn’t hold hands with girls. I didn’t take them to the theatre. But after meeting Virginia, I was starting to think she wasn’t like most girls and maybe I wasn’t the same guy who left Friendship, Texas, anymore.
Chapter 5
After the concert, she kept her hand in mine as we walked down the cement stairs and onto the square.
People were sitting in outside cafes, drinking espresso and smoking hand-rolled cigarettes.
“It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it?” Virginia asked, looking up at the stars.
Part of me thought of saying something cheesy like “not as beautiful as you,” but I knew that would just be a line to get her into bed. Though it was true—she was beautiful. Probably one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen. She was naturally pretty without a trace of makeup on to hide her laugh lines and freckles. So many girls were trying to cover up every spot they saw as imperfect, and it just made them look fake. Virginia was real. More real than any girl I’d ever met.
“The city sky is all right, but it’s not like the wide-open spaces of Texas. There’s something about a summer night with cloudless sky dotted with millions of stars that makes you just say ‘wow.’”
Virginia smiled. “Yeah, when I visit my parents’ family in the country, I get to see that open sky, but in Chicago, it’s blocked by a lot of the bigger buildings, and if you stop to look up, you just look like a tourist.”
Squeezing her hand, we continued to walk through the square. I didn’t want to stop talking to her or for the night to end. And since no one ate until late in Sicily anyway, I figured I could keep the night going.
“I went to college in Austin, and I’ve spent quite a bit of time in Dallas. I mean they’re bigger cities, but it’s just something about that southern sky where it’s like the stars are just accessories to the big canvas.”
She smiled. “Trying to talk artsy to me?”
“Hey, I took like two art classes in high school and one art history class in college. That has to count for something.”
Virginia laughed; a sound that came from deep in her stomach and shook her whole body. Just watching her made the smile broaden on my face. “That’s like me saying that living in Sicily makes me Sicilian.”
“I mean, technically, it cou
ld.”
She used her free hand to twirl a curl around her fingers. “The red hair and freckles really make me look like a local.”
“You’re talking to the olive-skinned kid from a small town in Texas. I think I was the most ethnic kid in my entire class.”
Virginia nodded. “What was that like? You know … I mean … God, how do I ask this without sounding like an ass?”
I smiled, shaking my head. “You don’t sound like an ass. I never really knew anything different from just being me. As I got older, the Hispanic population grew in Friendship, so a lot of people kind of just threw me in that ring, but you know … as much as things can get stereotyped for people, I just don’t let it bother me.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I find that hard to believe.”
“Why’s that?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess because everyone wants to fit in at some point. Like a redheaded art student who goes with her friends to a disco, even though she’d rather stay in her dorm and paint.”
I ran my finger along her thumb. “Yeah. I mean I’ve done all of the typical Texas things like play football when I sucked and even went to the rodeos, but I’ve always known who I am. I’ve never been ashamed to be the kid whose crazy Nonna lives with him or whose parents yell and invite everyone in for dinner. It’s my roots. It’s why I’m here now, walking with the beautiful art student on this warm Palermo night.”
She smiled, a light blush creeping in her cheeks. I licked my bottom lip, stepping closer and wrapping my free arm around her waist. I was ready to lean in for the kiss when an all-too-familiar voice yelled out to me.
“Santino! You gonna take your new bella on a date and not bring her to the restaurant for dinner? What kind of cousin are you?”
I winced, slowly turning to see Sammy, Sal, Maria, and most of the kitchen staff standing near the entrance to the street the restaurant was on.
I knew there was a reason they suggested Teatro Massimo; I just wished I had figured it out earlier.
Before I could open my mouth to make up an excuse and get Virginia somewhere else, Maria was waddling to us and grabbed Virginia’s arm. “Come, you sit. I’ll make you fish and give you the good wine, not the shit Sammy buys behind the mercato.”
“Maria, we were just heading—”
Maria put her hand up. “Zip! You can’t starve the poor bella or take her to a half-rate restaurant that won’t serve the food with love like we will. Come. You sit, and we feed you.”
Before I could say anything more, Maria was already dragging her down the street, and I had to jog to keep up.
Maria pulled out a chair, and Virginia took a seat at one of the outside tables. Before I could even take the seat across from her, Sammy set down a bottle of the house white and two plates of Caprese salad.
“I’m Sonny’s more attractive cousin, Sammy.” He shook Virginia’s hand.
In perfect Italian, she responded that she remembered him from the club.
Sammy’s smile widened. “Beautiful. An American. And she speaks our language.”
“Yeah. Now, go back to the kitchen and start on the main course before she leaves and figures out we’re all a bunch of nut jobs,” I said, jabbing Sammy in the ribs with the back of my fork.
“Okay, I get it. I get it. You want some alone time. I’ll start on the swordfish. Don’t get too comfortable. I’ll be right back.”
Even though Sammy went back to the kitchen, I could still see him, and everyone else, staring at us and whispering not very quietly about their cousin getting lucky with a redhead.
“Sorry about them,” I muttered, pouring Virginia a glass of wine then one for myself.
“Don’t be. I like it. It reminds me of my crazy family back home.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Are you hiding some Italian under the freckles?”
She laughed, shaking her head before taking a tiny sip of wine. “No. Irish. My dad has five brothers and three sisters. I have thirty-five first cousins, and when we have family get-togethers, we need to rent out a hall to accommodate all of us.”
I laughed. “Okay, you may know then.”
She raised her wine glass in a toast. “To big, crazy families that love us; sometimes maybe too much.”
I held up my glass and clinked it with hers. “La famiglia.”
“What was that about family? Is there something you’re trying to tell us, Santino?” Sammy asked as he brought out two plates of swordfish; Maria followed with a basket of bread.
“What about a family? Is the bella pregnant? Do we need to get a wedding set, so Nonna doesn’t have a heart attack?”
I shook my head and couldn’t help but laugh. This was how rumors quickly got started in our family. “No, we were just talking about her family. And by the way, her name’s Virginia. Virginia, officially meet my cousin Sammy and his wife, Maria. And the stooges back there watching us are Michael and Sal,” I said, hitching my thumb toward the two guys waving from the kitchen.
“Nice to meet you guys,” Virginia said.
Maria took Virginia’s hand then leaned down and whispered something in her ear. I couldn’t hear what she said, but it caused Virginia to smile and nod.
Maria winked. “I’ll leave you two to finish this before I stuff the cannoli.”
Maria took Sammy’s arm and ushered him toward the kitchen.
“What was that about?” I raised an eyebrow.
Virginia smiled, taking a piece of bread and ripping it in half. “Nothing you need to be concerned about.”
Chapter 6
The conversation flowed easily throughout dinner with Virginia, even with my cousins constantly interrupting. I couldn’t remember the last time I enjoyed talking to anyone this much, and I didn’t want the night to end.
As we stood in front of her dorm, I thought about how I could spend more time with her, besides the obvious. And oh, did I want the obvious, but I also didn’t want to mess up what could be the start of something really good.
“So what are you going to do when you get back to your room?” I asked.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Probably paint for a bit.”
“Can I watch?” I asked, without even thinking.
She blinked. “Really? It’s not that exciting.”
“Maybe you don’t know what I find exciting.”
A small smile quirked her lips. “Okay,” she said, before tugging me toward the brick building.
I followed her up one flight of stairs before going down a small hallway where she stopped at a plain brown wooden door. She fished some keys out of her pocket before putting it in the lock and pushing the door open.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you about how uneventful this is,” she said, turning on the light.
The room was tiny like all college dorms, but unlike my old dorm that I shared with a roommate and decorated with random posters, Virginia’s room looked like an artist’s closet. She had her bed shoved to the side, and different paints, brushes, and sketchbooks covered it. Her desk was in the same disarray with even more colors. Different sketches and pieces of art adorned the walls, and in the middle of all of that chaos stood an easel and canvas facing so she could look out the window. There was a half-drawn sketch of a few trees and buildings on a large white canvas with some charcoal pencils dangling off the ends of the easel shelf.
“I guess I should have also warned you about the mess,” Virginia said, picking up some random supplies only to set them on top of more supplies.
“You live alone?” I asked as I sat down on her bed, looking around the room at the other bed that didn’t have any sheets or pillows but was covered in art in various phases.
“For now, at least. My roommate went home for the summer.”
Alone in a room with an incredibly sexy woman. By now, usually, I would have both of us out of at least one item of clothing. But with Virginia, it was somehow different. As much as I wanted to see all of that creamy white skin, I was afraid that the momen
t I did would be the moment this fairy-tale bubble we were in would end.
“Are you really going to sit there and watch me work?” she asked, picking up a charcoal pencil.
“That’s what I said I was going to do, isn’t it?” I asked, leaning back against her the small metal headboard, trying not to crumple any of her papers or sit on a wet paintbrush.
“Okay. Suit yourself.” She turned and plugged her phone into a small black charger. “Do you mind if I put on some music?”
“As long as it isn’t some weird screaming metal.”
Virginia smirked. “What kind of girl do you think I am? Only Journey and whatever else pops up on this playlist.”
Smooth vocals filled the room as Virginia put her pencil to paper. The music faded away and nothing but her and the scratching pencils against the canvas remained. I was mesmerized, watching her move so methodically and beautifully as she swept along the branches of the banyan tree.
Her movements were like a beautiful lullaby, and I was in a trance. So much of a trance that I didn’t realize I’d fallen asleep until I felt the wisps of fine hair on my cheeks.
Smiling, I reached out to grab Virginia and instead came up with something cold and wet.
I opened my eyes to see my hand covered in green paint and a giggling Virginia kneeling on the bed in front of me with a paintbrush in her hand.
“Shouldn’t fall asleep while an artist is working,” she singsonged.
“Oh, you’re so going to get it!” I darted forward, grabbing the paintbrush with one hand and then tackling her down to the bed so she was on her back with me above her.
She giggled and squirmed as I hovered above her. I held both of her hands above her head with one hand and used my other to dangle the paintbrush above her face. “You know I have to get you back for that.”
“You wouldn’t paint my pretty face now, would you?” she asked with a pout.
“Nope.” Slowly, I brushed the paintbrush along the skin where her shirt didn’t meet her shorts.
She squirmed as the cold paint hit her skin. “Totally not fair.”