The Breakup

by Brenda Grate

  Aja dropped her arm, feeling like an idiot.

  Marco let out a snort. “I wouldn’t dare. She’s from Canada.”

  Carl’s shoulders dropped and only then did Aja realize how tense he was. He took her hand and shook it, his grip soft and child-like.

  As she shook his hand, she looked him over. He had wiry black hair that stuck up like a bottle brush. His face was round and apple-cheeked, but his eyes belied the cherub image. They were far apart and deeply set. So dark, like he was wearing eyeliner. He peered into Aja’s eyes with such daring intensity she had to break his gaze and look away.

  She pulled her hand out of his damp grasp and pressed it against her jeans. He smiled then, his cheeks plumping up even more. To Aja he looked like one of those children cast into a horror film where the child pretends to be sweet, but all the while he goes around hacking people to pieces. She shivered and moved closer to Marco. Oops, Mark.

  Carl pivoted on one leg and moved down the dark corridor, his arms pumping in time with his steps. He looked like a firecracker about to explode. “Follow me,” he commanded over his shoulder.

  Marco took Aja’s arm and they fell into step behind the disappearing form.

  “What is this place?” she whispered.

  Marco smiled and motioned for her to be quiet again. Aja felt very much like a firecracker too, but she willed herself to be patient.

  Ahead, Carl threw open a door at the end of the passage. “Welcome friends!” he said and then disappeared into the room.

  When they arrived at the door, Aja blinked at the bright light, which was such a contrast to the dimness of the corridor. The room was full of people, their laughter and conversation swelled, and Aja was surprised she couldn’t hear it from the passage.

  Marco seemed to read her mind. “The walls and doors are so thick they’re almost sound-proof.”

  Aja looked around for Carl, but he seemed to have vanished. A tall, thin man got up from one of the couches that were scattered around the cavernous room. “Hey, Marco! I mean Mark. Who’s that with you?” His voice travelled throughout the room and all eyes swiveled to the pair standing in the doorway.

  Marco pulled Aja forward. “This is Aja. She’s visiting from Canada.”

  There was a murmur across the room and Aja heard Canada spoken in several different accents. There seemed to be widespread approval of her nationality. She remembered the passphrase Marco had to say to get them in and she almost laughed again. Is this an “I hate Americans” club?

  Marco propelled them forward to meet the man who had spoken. He looked to be around Marco’s age, and she noticed a wedding ring on his finger. He grabbed her hand and pumped it with enthusiasm, a wide smile splitting his face.

  “Welcome. It’s been a long time since Mark has brought a date.” His grin turned impish as he looked her over.

  She could feel all the curious glances being thrown her way, but she felt quite comfortable at Marco’s side. She suddenly felt pride that she was the first woman he’d brought to this obviously special place in a long time.

  She smiled up at Marco. “Are you going to tell me where we are?”

  “This is a club my university friends and I started. We were protesting all the exclusive groups and their weird rituals. We started our rituals to poke fun at them, but Carl takes them pretty seriously.” He shrugged. “Sorry about all the theatrics. It’s really just a place to socialize and unwind.”

  Aja smiled. “That’s okay. It was fun.”

  “Pretty much everyone speaks English, so you won’t have any trouble,” he said.

  Several people made room for them on a couch nearby, and Marco and Aja sat down. He introduced her to the three men and two women seated on the couches arranged to face each other. There were similar comfortable arrangements all over the room. Despite the immense size of the room, it was quite cozy. They’d had a good interior designer.

  Aja smiled and leaned back into Marco’s arm, which he’d placed around her the minute they sat down. Aja tucked her lips in at the corners. It seemed to her he was showing that she belonged to him. She didn’t mind, though.

  “So you come from Canada?” The woman squeezed herself in beside Aja. She had been sitting with another group. She had long silky blonde hair, but her face was somewhat masculine. Aja had to keep her face bland when Marco whispered that she was actually a he.

  “Yes, that’s right. Have you ever been there?” Aja asked.

  “Oh, no,” she said. “I’ve just heard it’s a really nice place. By the way, my name’s Caroline.”

  “Nice to meet you, Caroline,” Aja said and stuck out her hand. “Yes, Canada is nice in some spots - but like anywhere - it has its not so nice places, too.”

  Caroline gave her a friendly smile. “Well, if the people there are anything like you, then I’m sure I’d like it.”

  Marco squeezed Aja’s shoulder like he was pleased she was getting on so well with his friends.

  “I met someone from Canada today. How strange.” One of the men across from Aja remarked. She thought his name was Matt, but that didn’t seem right. Aja wasn’t good with names, but she never forgot a face. Somehow, though, she figured Caroline’s name would stick.

  “Well,” Aja said, “Canada is a big country. I’m not surprised there would be other Canadians in Italy.”

  “I guess that’s true. He was from…” Matt (or whatever his name was) trailed off and tapped a forefinger on his bald pate. He looked young but his hair had already receded halfway back on his head. “Vancouver? Does that sound right?”

  “Wow. That’s where I’m from.”

  Marco sat up. “Did you get his name?” he asked in a gruff voice.

  Aja’s heart started pounding. It couldn’t be.

  “Stephen. His name was Stephen. He was quite tall, dark hair. Nice looking chap.”

  The room dimmed at the corners and Aja felt faint. That bastard was going to haunt her for the rest of her life. She was sure of it.

  “Where did you meet him?” Marco demanded.

  “Do you know him, Marco, uh Mark?”

  “Forget the Mark stuff. Carlos isn’t here. Yes, I know him. Where did you meet him?”

  “He came into my parent’s store for a few minutes. He browsed around, but didn’t seem interested in the stuff. He kept staring out the window. I thought it was a little strange so I struck up a conversation with him.”

  “God damn it!” Marco exploded.

  “Marco, what?” Aja asked.

  Marco turned to her, his face a mottled red color and his eyes nearly black with anger. “Matteo’s parent’s store is directly across the street from Julianna’s café.”

  “Oh.” And Aja’s heart beat faster until it felt like it was going to cut off her breath altogether. “Oh, no.”

  “Yeah.”

  The group stared at them, unmasked curiosity on each face.

  Marco looked into Aja’s eyes, questioning what she wanted to tell them. She took the lead.

  “Stephen has been following me.” All the eyes watching her widened. “He’s an old boyfriend and things ended badly. I left home for a while to let things cool off, but he won’t let me go. I have a restraining order against him at home, but it’s no good here and he knows it. He’s been following me everywhere and making my life miserable.”

  “Then we should make his life miserable,” Caroline shot back. She looked around at the rest of the group. “You guys with me?”

  “Hell, yeah!” Several of them chimed in.

  Caroline turned back to Aja. “Any friend of Marco’s is a friend of ours. We protect our own. It’s part of our creed.” She grinned and then looked over Aja’s shoulder and her grin turned impish.

  “She’s right and we take that seriously,” said a crusty voice behind Aja’s head. Carlos (or Carl) was back.

  Carl plopped on the couch between Marco and Aja and wiggled to make room.

  Aja told them her idea, the one she’d shared with Julianna and P
ietro. There were several cries of glee and Carl rubbed his hands together.

  He cackled and said, “That’s a great idea. He’ll never know what hit him.”

  Chapter 26

  Aja rented a car and drove to Florence to meet Mia’s plane. When Mia came through customs, Aja stood waiting. They threw their arms around each other and danced.

  “Ajakins! I’m so glad to see you. I missed you so much.”

  “I missed you too. I can’t believe you’re here finally.” Aja squeezed Mia until she gasped in protest.

  They gathered Mia’s luggage and made their way to the parking lot and the rental car. The area around the airport looked much like any other large city in the world. It wasn’t until they got near their hotel that Mia began to exclaim over all the old buildings. Aja thought how strange it was that already the architecture seemed normal to her.

  “So this is Italy,” Mia said, craning her neck and trying to take everything in. “I’ve always wanted to come here.”

  “Just wait till you see the rest.” Aja grinned at her and winked.

  Mia laughed. “So where’s the Italian sausage. Did you bring a sample?”

  “Nope, you’re just going to have to wait. We’ll stay in Florence tonight and then we’ll drive to Siena where we’re going to have the wedding.”

  Mia got a strange look on her face.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing. I’m just so happy to be here.”

  Her face brightened again and Aja wondered if it had just been her imagination.

  They spent the rest of the day sightseeing. Aja couldn’t believe that she hadn’t done much touring since arriving in Italy. There was so much to take in that her mind whirled with all the sights and the history. It was like ancient history brought to life. She had never imagined that there were places where they were so close to the past. In Italy people still lived in medieval castles and houses. In Canada everything was made of wood, so it didn’t last very long. In Italy there was an abundance of stone and they made use of it. Everything was built to last, and last it did.

  They entered their fifth church and the paintings blurred in front of Aja’s color-saturated eyes. The ceiling was like all the others, arching high over their heads. The atmosphere was hushed and reverent, as though God himself was about to enter.

  Mia let out a nervous giggle. Formality made her uncomfortable and when she got nervous she would start to laugh. To distract her, Aja pointed out one of the paintings to her left. It was of Mary, Joseph, and baby Jesus. What struck her was the way Joseph was looking at Mary. Mary didn’t see the look because she watched her little son, but Joseph gazed at her with a mixture of love and desire. It was a look that any woman would be happy to see on her man’s face. The painter captured the new husband’s feelings perfectly. Aja realized with a pang that it was exactly the look that was on Marco’s face when he’d proposed. Her heart ached with love for him.

  Aja hadn’t told Mia about Marco’s proposal yet. She felt funny about it since she didn’t even have a ring to show her. She knew that Mia would be happy, but she felt strange about telling her she was already engaged when she’d been in Italy such a short time.

  “I’m hungry, let’s find a café,” Mia said, her voice echoing off the high ceiling.

  Aja resisted the urge to shush her and agreed. She was hungry, too.

  They walked outside into the bright sunshine and both started looking for their sunglasses. They laughed when they realized at the same time that the sunglasses were on top of their heads.

  “Wow, it’s bright out here,” Aja said.

  Mia pointed out a café on the other side of the street. “That looks like a nice place.” She stepped into the street and fell.

  Mia screamed, “He took it, get him,” while Aja gaped at her in confusion.

  Then she realized Mia hadn’t fallen. She had been pushed down by a thief when he grabbed her purse. Without thinking twice Aja took off after him.

  The man dodged around a cart of fruit and disappeared into an alley with her hot on his heels. All the while she screamed, “Stop thief!” Aja couldn’t believe it, but nobody even looked her way.

  She skidded on some rocks and fell to her knees at the entrance of an alley. The man was just disappearing around the corner. She scrambled after him, her right knee stinging in pain. Aja was small but fast and soon she had nearly caught up to the thief.

  He glanced over his shoulder at her, widened his eyes, and ran faster, Mia’s purse swinging on his arm. He was short and wide with curly black hair and a goatee. He wasn’t a very good runner. His legs flew in all directions as he ran and it seemed strange to Aja that he could move as quickly as he was. The purse on his arm looked strange, especially considering it was bright pink; Mia’s favorite color.

  Aja’s chest burned and her breath came in gasps, but she refused to give up the chase. She wasn’t going to let a foolish little man get away with her best friend’s purse, especially since it probably had Mia’s passport in it.

  Aja couldn’t believe she was dealing with a thief again.

  Without warning, someone flew out of an alley the thief had just passed and tackled him right in front of Aja. She couldn’t slow down in time and ran right into them. She fell on top of the thief and her rescuer, causing them both to grunt in pain. The purse was in front of her and she made a grab for it. The thief screeched and pulled it away. She grabbed for it again, this time not letting go as he tugged and swore at her in Italian. The attacker yelled at him in English to let go of the damn purse and Aja’s head whipped around in shock. It was Marco. He grinned at her and ripped the purse out of the thief’s hand. He gave him a shove and watched while the man stumbled away, and then handed her the purse.

  “Why did you let him go? Shouldn’t we take him to the police station?” Aja asked.

  “They won’t do anything. At least you got your purse back. Florence is a hotbed of thieves preying on innocent tourists.”

  She sat back on the sidewalk, her legs straight out in front of her, still breathing hard as she tried to comprehend how Marco had ended up in Florence. She wanted to believe he had followed her, but that didn’t seem like him. Still, it couldn’t be a coincidence.

  Marco got to his feet and brushed off his trousers. He held a hand out to her. She grabbed on and he pulled her up so hard she flew into his chest. His grin told her he’d done in on purpose.

  Aja looked into his face and he gave her a quick kiss.

  “Are you okay? He didn’t hurt you?”

  “I’m fine. I’m just so glad we got Mia’s purse back. Now, tell me, how did you find me? Are you here on winery business?”

  Marco looked away and seemed uncomfortable. “Uh, yeah. Cielo Bello has many customers in Firenze. Florence.”

  He was hiding something, that was clear. She didn’t want to question him. She figured he had a good reason for being there, and wanted to start showing him some trust. She linked her arm with his and said, “Well, come on. I want to introduce you to my best friend.”

  Marco smiled and seemed relieved. He squeezed her hand close to his side.

  Mia stood on the sidewalk, her back to them. Aja called out her name and she whirled around. Her face looked worried, but when she saw Aja, she relaxed. Aja held the pink purse in front of Mia’s face with a grin.

  Mia grabbed it, shrieked, hugged the purse and then hugged Aja. “Thank you! I can’t believe you caught him.”

  Aja shrugged and said, “Thank Marco, he’s the one who came out of nowhere and tackled the dirty, rotten thief.”

  Mia turned to him with a wide smile. “So you’re Marco. Aja told me all about you and your winery.” She stuck out her hand to shake his, while giving Aja a private grin.

  Marco’s eyes widened at Aja, and she looked down, feeling ashamed of what she’d told Mia, and the names she’d called him.

  Mia continued, seemingly unaware of the exchange. “I’m so grateful to you. My passport
was in there and it would have been a disaster to lose it.”

  Aja rolled her eyes, but Mia ignored her.

  When the questions in Mia’s eyes got too pointed to ignore, Aja said, “Marco was in town for the day and when he saw me chasing the thief, he came to my rescue. He lives in Siena and runs the winery I work for.”

  The explanation wasn’t enough, Aja knew, but Mia let it go. She started asking Marco all about Cielo Bello and then invited him to have lunch with them.