by Brenda Grate
When she got home, Aja turned off her lights and coasted into the driveway so she wouldn’t wake anyone. She was happy to see the media hadn’t decided to camp out overnight. It was one thirty in the morning. She was determined to get her things and leave before anyone knew what she was up to. She packed a suitcase quietly and left the house. She would go to Italy. It was perfect.
Chapter 10
Aja gripped the door handle as the taxi raced down the crowded street. She prayed she’d make it to the hotel alive. The streets were full of people. The tourists stood out in clear relief against the locals who moved quickly, their mission clear. Slack-jawed tourists stood, their necks craned, staring at the spectacular architecture. Aja couldn’t wait to get out of the death-trap she was in so she could join them.
Aja hoped her family wasn’t in a state of complete uproar, although it was a foolish wish. They were probably combing the countryside for her body or camped out at the hospital harassing Stephen. She figured the only thing that might save Stephen from The Brothers was the fact that he couldn’t walk.
Mia had promised not to tell anyone, as long as Aja promised to call her family once she’d gotten settled. Now that she was actually in Italy, she didn’t have a clue what to do next. There was plenty of money from the trust fund, as long as Mother didn’t convince Daddy to cut her off until she came home. The thought of not having money made her feel isolated, alone. Maybe I should find a job, she thought. Just in case.
The taxi driver pulled up in front of the hotel and rattled something off in Italian. Maybe a job isn’t a good idea since I can’t speak a word of Italian. What kind of a stupid idiot took off without a thought of what she was going to do when she arrived in a foreign country, without a guide or even a phrasebook? This was going to be one more thing her family would never let her live down; more proof that she needed their care.
Aja stuck out her chin. She was determined to prove she could take care of herself. She glanced up and saw her face in the rearview mirror, set in stubborn lines. I may be small, but I’m big inside. She took a deep breath and got out of the cab.
The driver pulled the large suitcase out of the trunk and set it down with a thump in front of Aja. He looked her up and down and offered a grin. She was sure he figured there was no way a little girl like her could handle such a big suitcase. She frowned at him and held out a handful of euros. She’d blindly exchanged her money at the airport on arrival, and didn’t know how much she should be paying. The driver took a few bills, his grin widening. She had a feeling she’d just paid for the world’s most expensive taxi ride.
Once she’d settled everything at the hotel, Aja took a breath of relief and made her way outside, hoping she wouldn’t get lost. She took time to memorize the name of the hotel and took a mental picture of the surrounding buildings. She had a pretty good sense of direction, so she set off with a light heart. Then she remembered her family and came to a stop. She had to call them soon. She didn’t want to give Daddy a heart attack.
Heading back into the hotel lobby, she spied a bank of phones near the front desk. Aja looked the phone over in vain, trying to figure out the system. The concierge saw her distress and came over. He said something in Italian, which Aja took to mean, “Can I help you?” She gestured at the phones and said in a loud voice, “I don’t know how to make a call.”
He took a step back in surprise. “I’m not deaf, Miss.” He took the receiver from her.
Aja mumbled an apology and tried to pay attention to his explanation. It turned out to be very simple and all she needed was her credit card.
As she waited for someone to pick up on the other end, she scanned the lobby. It was a middle-of-the-road hotel, but still looked exotic. Her stomach churned as she thought about how far she was from home and anyone who cared about her.
“Hello.” It was Betty.
“Hi Betty, it’s Aja.”
A stream of Spanish came from the other end. Aja held the phone out from her ear, but heard everything loud and clear. She winced at a few words like, estúpida, loca, and tu padre te va a matar!
Growing up with Betty had given Aja plenty of opportunity to learn Spanish, especially as Betty had arrived in the US knowing hardly a word of English. Betty’s quick temper had given Aja an excellent education in less academic Spanish.
Aja tried several times to interrupt Betty’s verbal tirade. Finally, she yelled into the phone. “Betty!”
She asked for her father while Betty paused to gasp a breath. The phone slammed down, causing Aja to jerk the phone back from her ear. Betty had only ever spoken to Aja like this one other time. It was one evening when she’d arrived home drunk from a party. It wasn’t her being drunk that set Betty off that time; It was that she’d allowed a boy, more drunk than she was, to drive her home. Betty tore a strip off Aja that night. It was an evening she would never forget. It showed Aja just how much Betty loved her. She’d hoped never to frighten Betty like that again.
“Aja?” Her father’s voice shook a little and Aja felt ashamed all over again.
“Yes, Daddy, it’s me. I’m safe. I’m in Rome.”
Aja held the phone away from her ear while she endured another tongue lashing, this time in English. She hoped her mother wouldn’t join the party; her ear would never be the same.
“Daddy, I’m sorry. I know you’re upset with me, but I had to get away. It wasn’t entirely selfish.”
“Oh, wasn’t it?”
“No!” She considered the wisdom of telling him about the hit man. In the bright light of mid-afternoon, it seemed a ridiculous story. But, it was the truth after all. “Stephen sent a hit man after me.”
“He what?”
Aja was surprised the phone receiver didn’t explode in her hand with the violence of his anger.
Then he got quiet. “Did he hurt you?”
“No, Daddy. Actually he was nice.”
His response was more silence. Aja began to wonder if they’d been cut off when he spoke. “He was ‘nice’?” Her father’s voice was either incredulous, or he was stalling while he motioned for her mother to call the funny farm. “How could you call a hit man, one who had been sent to kill you, ‘nice’?”
“Daddy. He didn’t kill me.”
“Obviously,” he said, his voice dry.
“What I mean is, he told me Stephen had sent him. He hates Stephen, so he let me go.” Aja wondered why she always fumbled her words and acted like a little kid around her father. Would he ever stop affecting her that way? She didn’t dare tell him how she gave the man a ride. Her father would lock her up for the rest of her life.
“So, how did that make it imperative that you leave your family and take off to the other side of the fucking world?”
Her stomach dropped into her little toes. When Daddy started swearing, everyone scattered. He was pissed. He’d never been this mad at her before and she didn’t like it a bit.
“Daddy,” she said, trying to inject a reasonable tone into the conversation. “He told me Stephen would never stop. That he’d hurt my family.” While this wasn’t exactly true, Aja had inferred it from their conversation. It didn’t hurt that it helped her side of the argument. Or at least she felt it did. Her father seemed to take quite a different viewpoint.
“Since when did my little girl become the assigned protector of the Rain family, Aja?”
“Daddy, I’m not a little girl.” Aja stood to her full height and tried to ignore the smirk of the concierge.
“I’m a grown woman now. I’m sorry for scaring you, but I needed to get away. I wanted to leave the media and everything behind. I also hoped if I left, Stephen would back off, and forget about me.”
Her father laughed, but it didn’t sound humorous. “He’s never going to forget, Aja. You nearly cut off his most prized possession. A man like that will never forget.”
Aja’s shoulders slumped. “What do we do?”
“Nothing. He’ll just have to live with it. He’s tried to bring a la
wsuit against you, but that won’t work. It’s already over.”
“What? How?”
“His lawyer must hate him too.” This time her father laughed with real mirth.
“Why?”
“Because he did a shit job of drawing up the lawsuit. My lawyer took a look at it and it’s clear it’ll never hold up in court. My lawyer has at least ten things he can use to get it thrown out. It’s so clearly a hack job, I’d wonder if he found his lawyer in a Cracker Jack box, except I know the man. He’s a class act. So, it tells me he’s done it on purpose. He must have made enough money to retire already, because when Stephen finds out, he’ll probably send that hit man after him.”
“Wow.” Aja couldn’t think of anything else to say. Things were looking up for her and her family. No wonder Daddy was mad. But, now that she was in Rome, she was glad she’d come. The freedom she felt out from under her family’s protection was liberating, although scary. That must be what it felt like to grow up. Too bad she’d had to wait until she was twenty-five.
“Aja? You there?”
“Yes, I’m here Daddy. I’m glad things are settling down. I think I’m going to stay here for a while, though. It would be a waste to just turn around and go home. I think I’m long due for a holiday. I’m so sorry I scared you. I promise I’ll never do anything like that again.”
Her father took a deep breath. Aja was afraid he would blow again, but he just let the air out slowly. “Okay, Aja, if that’s what you want. I’ll hold you to your promise, though. Don’t ever do this to us again. I might not survive it.”
The guilt struck deep and quick, just as her father intended it to.
“I promise.”
“Okay. Do you need anything? Any money?”
Aja swallowed her impatience. “No, I’m OK. I have money. I really want to make it on my own for a while, okay?”
“Okay, baby.” His tone was mildly patronizing. Aja pushed back her irritation.
“Say hi to Mother for me. I’ll call again when I get settled.”
“Be careful.”
“I will. I love you.”
Aja set the phone down and averted her face from the curious eyes of the concierge. She went back up to her room and flopped on the bed, exhaustion overtaking her. She no longer had the energy for touring. Sometimes talking to her family wrung her out. Love could be the most tiring thing in the world.
Chapter 11
Rome was the most interesting city she’d ever seen. Aja wandered around with her mouth half open, stopping every few minutes to take in a new sight. She loved the colors, the Old-World feel of everything. The people were animated and intense. They made Aja feel washed out, tepid. The sun was perfect. Having spent most of her life living in the rainy city of Vancouver, it was wonderful to experience the Mediterranean climate. Aja longed for someone to share everything with. She pushed away depressing thoughts, stopped in front of a display of pottery, and was nearly knocked off her feet by someone behind her.
“Mamma mia!”
She turned to see a man looming over her, a jug of wine balanced on his shoulder.
“Mi scusi. Ti ho fatto male?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t speak Italian.”
He switched to English. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bump into you. Are you alright?”
“I’m okay. It’s my fault for stopping so quickly.”
He smiled at her, his dark blue eyes crinkling in the corners. “You are visiting Roma?”
It sounded exotic, spoken with his Italian accent. “Yes. Just here on holidays. Sorry, I have to go. My husband is waiting for me.” She peered around as though looking for someone, ignoring his pointed look at her bare left hand.
She’d seen him earlier in the day, staring at her from across the street. It made her nervous to think that he might be following her. Maybe Stephen had found her already. Maybe he’d hired an Italian hit man. Or maybe she was just losing her mind. He didn’t look like someone who murdered people, but she was sure there were handsome hit men out there.
Aja hurried away, pretending not to notice that he watched her go with a sad face.
She spent the day browsing shops in the Piazza Navona district, gawking at the sights. With so much to see, her eyes felt strained. The sun beat on her head fiercely enough that she broke down and bought a hat. The relief was palatable. She walked out of the store and stopped dead. She had that prickly feeling again.
Aja didn’t want whoever was following her to know she suspected anything so she moved to the store window and tried to see the people around her, just like she’d seen in the movies. It was impossible. There were too many people milling around to get a fix on the person who had given her the eerie feeling. Stephen couldn’t have found her already. Could he? Despite the heat, an icy chill settled in her bones.
No longer interested in being a tourist, she turned in what she was sure was the direction of her hotel. As she walked, she could feel the heat leaching the liquid from her every pore. She stopped at a food stand and purchased a bottle of water. She glanced behind her, but didn’t see anyone she recognized from her other furtive glance around. Am I losing my mind? Maybe not, but she herself was definitely lost.
Aja decided to get a cab to the hotel. There was no point trying to find her way on foot - besides, if someone was following her, maybe she’d lose them.
She stood at the side of the busy street waiting for a cab to come by, hoping to flag one down, being jostled as people shoved past. She was irritated by the bumping, but was more interested in finding a cab than in looking for a less crowded area.
Without warning, she was shoved from behind, and was only saved from flying into the path of oncoming cars by her unknown assailant’s hold on her purse. They had a brief tug-of-war - thankfully the strap held, and Aja swung around, yanking it fiercely toward her. The small boy attached to the other end gave a squeal, let go, and took off. With the force on the other end suddenly gone, she flew backwards and slammed into another body. Arms wrapped around her, stopping her headlong fall into the street.
The arms didn’t let go as she expected. Aja struggled out of their grasp, turning around with a fierce glare. It was a young man with a wicked grin on his face.
“Stai bene?”
She brushed off her jeans and looked busy for a few seconds, to collect herself. She tucked her purse under her arm, said, “grazie,” - the only Italian word she knew - and moved away from him. He didn’t get the hint. He followed her, talking all the while.
Aja saw a cab and lunged for the curb, waving her arms like a lunatic. She’d narrowly escaped having her purse stolen and now she was being stalked by a handsome, but irritating man. Whatever had possessed her to think she could visit a foreign country on her own?
The cab pulled up to the curb. She grabbed the handle, pulled open the door, slid inside and slammed it so hard the cabbie jumped and looked back. The young man was at the door yammering at her and trying to open it.
“Drive!”
The cabbie put it into gear and stomped on the gas, just missing another car and a bus. Aja’s heart leapt into her throat and pounded as though it were trying to escape.
“Dove?” The cabbie asked her. “Where?” He added, probably used to tourists.
Aja gave him the name of her hotel and leaned back with a sigh. The mad race through the streets was nothing to what she’d just experienced. She had no idea what the man had been trying to tell her. It wasn’t until she reached her hotel room that it all became clear. She opened her purse to find her passport was missing. He was probably trying to give it back to her and she ran from him like a crazy person. Stupid, stupid Aja.
Chapter 12
The sun made the top of Aja’s head warm. She leaned back in the chair to let it hit her face. She sat outside a little bar in the town of Siena in Northern Italy. She’d seen advertisements for Siena while touring Rome, and decided that it was the perfect spot for her to spend a few weeks. While spectacular in many ways
, Rome had been far too busy for her. The incident with the pickpocket and then the man she’d thought was stalking her was enough to send her to the hills. Although she’d gotten her passport back - the man had turned it in to the consulate - she still wanted to get away from the crowds. She’d spent only a few more days in Rome before renting a car and driving to the peaceful city of Siena.
Aja took a sip of espresso and felt her lips pucker. It was the only thing she recognized on the menu. It was fast becoming apparent that, no matter how charming the country, living in Italy without knowing how to speak Italian was going to present some challenges.