by Kailin Gow
“I’ll leave the wedding planning to you ladies but I am rather looking forward to practicing making some babies with you.”
“Yeah, we need lots of practice,” I agreed, laughing merrily. I loved our playful banter and it always made me feel alive and tingly.
“Shall we go practice? We need to get to sleep early so we can get up early.”
“Why? I don’t have to work,” I said.
“I have some place to take you,” he said.
“Where?”
“Like I said, it’s a surprise.”
Salvatore and I went back to the hotel room. It was going to be the last week I was in there because I was going to be moving into a small apartment above a flower shop in town the following week to continue working on the dig and take my classes from. It was a huge step but I was so excited. Despite giving back my scholarship, my parents had found a way to make it possible for me to stay enrolled as a student at Harvard, work on the dig, and be close to the man I loved. Yes, they were amazing parents!
That night in the hotel room, I pestered Salvatore and teased him sexually for information in every way possible. He didn’t cave in at all and I had to hand it to him because all that happened was that I got myself so pent up that I surrendered and climbed on top of him, so happy to get the release I longed for.
The past week had made me more sexually confident and aggressive. It really was amazing to experience how much an open relationship—one that was no longer forbidden or frowned upon—did to my sexual energy. Everything had been great before, absolutely amazing, but it was even more now. The connection was stronger physically and emotionally, too.
After feeling satisfied, we drifted off into sleep in each other’s arms and when I woke up at 7 a.m. Salvatore was already up.
“I was just getting ready to wake you up. It’s time to go. Rise and shine, beautiful.”
“What are we doing?” I asked again, renewed energy to find out what my surprise was.
“Okay, one hint,” Salvatore conceded. “We are going to the Amalfi Coast.”
“Why?”
“That would be giving you another hint. Wait and see. I promise, you’ll love it.”
Twenty minutes later with an overnight bag packed, we were out the door and driving out of town in Salvatore’s sleek, sporty Maserati convertible—a present for his graduation from his parents.
“Do you want some lunch on the way?” Salvatore asked.
“Sure.”
“How about some pizza with Carlotta and Giovanni?”
“That sounds amazing. We are by their home, aren’t we?” I asked. I had yet to remember the beautiful, Italian countryside the way my native Italian did.
We pulled up and the two were out in the driveway, smiling happily and looking like they’d expected us at just that moment. I wasn’t sure if it was intuition or just coincidence but it was pretty wonderful. They were so sweet.
Another couple so in love, a couple meant to be together, I thought.
After warm hugs and happy ciaos, we went into the kitchen and Carlotta began to make her delicious pizza from scratch while we all talked.
“I have some fantastic news, Carlotta,” Salvatore said.
“Oh yes, what is it?” she asked, turning around. She had such a merry twinkle in her translucent blue eyes.
“Taylor and I are finally together,” Salvatore replied proudly.
“This is good and as it should be,” Carlotta said. “We shall celebrate with a toast. Giovanni, bring the wine.”
Giovanni got up right away and walked into another room.
Salvatore cautioned her. “Only one glass, though, because I have somewhere to take Taylor that’s very important.”
“Are you eloping? How romantic!”
“No, and please don’t start that rumor for it would send Mama into a panic,” Salvatore said.
“Me? Never,” she said.
“We’re going to the Amalfi Coast,” I said, hoping I’d get some input.
“Oh, how nice. It’s beautiful there this time of year. Your family owns a lot of land there,” Carlotta began and then added, “but, of course, they own much land everywhere.”
Then she got back to chopping and took a break when Giovanni came back with four glasses of wine.
“To love and longevity,” Giovanni said, raising his glass.
We all clanked glasses, continued to laugh and talk, ate some pizza, and then Salvatore and I were on our way.
Two hours later we were finally on the coast and the car was parked in a very ancient town, one which had a few houses but not much left to it. It was very beautiful nonetheless, filled with olive trees, fig trees, and many beautiful green plants and trees.
I watched Salvatore get out of the car and he walked around to the passenger door, opened it up, and took my hand. I smiled, so curious but done asking questions. He was good at keeping a surprise and I looked forward to getting used to that.
We walked to the edge of a small outlet that overlooked the water and Salvatore still didn’t say a word.
“This is beautiful, thanks for the surprise,” I finally said, thinking it was the get-away more than anything else.
“Oh but this isn’t the surprise,” Salvatore said.
“What is then?” I asked.
This time, he was prepared to talk. “I wanted you to see what Olivia may have seen when she arrived here looking for Emilio and preparing to embark on a new life full of love and freedom.”
Then Salvatore pulled out the leather map and opened it up, showing that we were standing on the spot that it had pointed out.
My heart began to thump so loudly that I was certain Salvatore could hear it. At that moment, realizing what it all was, I felt magical. He’d even called her Olivia, just like I’d named her.
“Here? You mean she was right here?” I asked, trying to coordinate my thoughts.
“It’s a hunch but it is a bit of speculation. My father’s archivist has been working on this and he hasn’t uncovered much to make any solid conclusions but it is a start. I wanted to bring you here so you could see the beautiful view and get a better picture of what it is that you’ve been uncovering about your Olivia.”
“That’s sweet of you to call her Olivia, too. Any idea of what her real name may be?”
“It is actually Olivia,” Salvatore said. “How did you guess that if you didn’t read it anywhere?”
I explained about the way the room was decorated and he smiled at me. “Beautiful and perceptive.”
“Thank you,” I said, feeling like I was a woman who was very much in the present but also living in the distant past, figuring out Olivia’s story and how she escaped the tragedy of the people of Pompeii in order to have a future with her true love.
“Also, this piece of leather is more than a map. It is also a love note.”
“Really?”
“Yes, we had it transcribed. “It says, ‘Catch the ship to the coast and come up to the highest point of the olive, fig, and tangerine trees where my family has a large farm. I am now man of the house and I want you to be the woman.’”
“How romantic,” I said, feeling like I was a witness to an intimate scene.
“There’s more,” Salvatore said. “At the end of the note, Olivia left a letter to her parents, I’m guessing to extend an invitation for them to come visit her some day to see that she was fine and with the man she truly loved, a man of means that could provide for her.”
“What does it read exactly?” I asked, thinking I had to learn Italian much better if I was going to be staying here.
“It says, ‘Dear Mother and Father, I will not marry Mauricio, my betrothed. I am marrying Emilio, for he makes me happy and I cannot imagine a life without him in it. I hope you will accept our marriage and one day visit me and my new family. Please be happy for me, as nothing makes me happier than being his. Olivia.’”
“What a wonderful life she must have lived. It’s odd that it’s tied to your
name, though. Did she really take on Degas instead of Emilio’s surname?”
“It appears to be the case. I know that I’d do a great deal to be with you.”
“I know,” I said.
“I would have went to the US, you know. This is where you want to be?”
“This is where I want to be for now,” I said.
“I love you, and I’m happy it’s worked out…it was destined to work out, wasn’t it?”
“It was and I love you, too.”
“Is it just me you’re staying here for?”
“Well, you’re definitely a huge part of it but I love my work on the dig site and now I have a bit of a fascination about uncovering Olivia’s story. I’m fortunate to have a boyfriend with connections to help me do it, too. Olivia’s like family to me in a way but she is part of your family. Isn’t that fascinating?”
“Yes, but not as much as you are to me.”
We hugged tightly and when we separated, Salvatore said, “I’ll help you uncover the history of Olivia and my ancestors.”
“How?” I asked, looking back to the beautiful coastline.
“We have a family vault with ancient relics.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that?” I asked.
“It’s a family heirloom and a secret,” Salvatore said. “But we can take a look at some of the things in there together.”
“I’m all for doing anything and everything we can together,” I said.
Once again, I looked back out at the water and thought of how many oceans kept loved ones apart from each other but how they also ensured that loved ones remained together, too. It was a beautiful thought and I was ready to explore all the possibilities I could in the land of Italy, where I felt a strong connection to its people and its heritage.
Epilogue
In the furthest corner of the vault, in an air tight, fireproof, safe, I found exactly what I had been longing for. Salvatore was right behind me and I could feel his breath tickling my neck.
“This is it!” I exclaimed.
We walked out of the vault and the bankers closed the big, steel door behind us and locked it. Salvatore and I went into a small, private room and I could feel my hands shaking as I opened up the small journal—Olivia’s diary.
“I can’t read all of this yet,” I said, feeling slightly panicked.
“Let me read it to you so you can listen to the words that may answer all the mystery that’s been clouding your brain.”
I nodded and Salvatore began to read:
I have embarked on a journey that I did not think I have the courage to make, but the idea of marrying the cruel Mauricio was too much. Yes, he is handsome and that will be the downfall of some young woman, I suspect, yet I know I cannot allow it to be me. A life without love is not a life I’m willing to live.
People say that he beats his servants and smells of fish from his parents’ fishing boat business. The thought of that makes me want to wretch, so foul and rough. What type of man acts that way? And now I’ve grown to see it more firsthand; walking in on the one party at his home and seeing him be so cruel to one servant, while acting most inappropriately with another guest’s daughter. That is not a man I can marry. So now, here I sit, knowing that the announcements have been sent out of our betrothal to the most prominent families of Pompeii. Yet, I think only of one thing: Emilio and his soft, loving smile.
I should just march out to my parents right now and tell them what is weighing on my heart, yet I can’t. They are blinded by his looks somewhat, but more so, the wealth he offers to them if I am to become his wife. What is wealth if you cannot touch someone and feel a fire ignite within you? It took that first accidental swipe of Emilio’s hand against mine when he handed me that tangerine to make me feel the connection we had. Yes, I looked him in the eyes and he turned away respectably but our connection could not be denied. In that moment, I experienced true love, something I shall never have again with anyone else other than him.
Emilio is also handsome, very beautiful on the inside and out. He is hard-working, a leader, and has come to own many of the farm lands out by the Amalfi Coast. He may be a farmer, but his farm of olives, tangerines, and figs provide the food for many. Although we should have never spent time alone I was drawn to him just as the flower is drawn to the morning sun.
When morning comes, I shall sneak out of my home and make my way to meet him and we will start our lives together, anew. We will get married and I will help him on the farm, and together we will begin our new line. He loves me so much that he will be willing to take my family surname instead of me taking his. He is as enlightened as any man, and I think one day, he will help enlighten society. But now, dear diary. I am at a loss.
I have been here, on Mauricio’s ship, after he found out about my plans to elope with Emilio. He has kidnapped me and I’ve been here a few hours since leaving my home. It was most unfortunate that the ship I was using for passage to go from Pompeii to Sorrento was owned by Mauricio’s family and that he was on there.
He has taken me into his chambers and has kept me here. He told me after he gets through with making love to me as what we Pompeiian are unabashed to do, in all kinds of ways, I will beg him to make me his wife so I can experience all that he can offer. I know in my heart of hearts that offering nothing short of my freedom to be with Emilio will result in misery. While I remain pure at this time I fear he will take this from me, making me be in a situation where I must marry him.
Please may Emilio hear my pleas and know that I have not abandoned him…that I love him and wish to be with him. With the letter I left my parents, they will think I am with Emilio and Emilio will think I am with them. When in reality, I am a prisoner, lost from those I love and stuck with someone whom I despise more with each passing minute.
For now I must go…for I hear him coming….
*****
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Subject line: Yes! Go Olivia Go!
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FREE SAMPLE OF
Devour Me
MASTER CHEFS SERIES ™ BOOK 1
kailin gow
Prologue
Taryn Cummings bit her lower lip as an excited thrill shot through her. Her taxi pulled up in front of the apartment building she`d be calling home for the next little while… if all went well.
Just around the corner was the International Institute of Culinary Arts, and her future, her dream of joining the ranks of top chefs.
“Taryn? Are you still there?”
“Oh, Mom,” Taryn shouted gleefully into her phone as she pulled a few Euros from her wallet. “Yes! Yes! Oui! Oui! I’m just now arriving at my apartment. I’m so excited, Mom. Paris, can you believe it? This is more than I ever dreamed of.”
“I know,” Samantha said. “And I’m happy for you, honey.”
Taryn heard the strain in her mother’s voice. While she knew her mother was indeed happy for her, she also knew she desperately needed a helping hand back home.
“Mom, I won’t let you down. When I`m through here, I’m going to come home a great chef and you’ll see what I’ll do with our little East Side restaurant. I’ll turn it into the greatest place in all of New York City. Errol King is the best chef in the world and I hear he’s a pretty good teacher, too. I’m going to soak up all the knowledge he has to offer. ”
Samantha chuckled. “Yes, I’ve heard he is quite the teacher.”
“Mom, just because the guy is young and good looking doesn’t mean he can’t be a good teacher.”
“No, but it does mean a lot of young and impressionable young fe
male students are going to have a hard time concentrating on cooking… a meal, that is.”
Taryn grinned. Chef King was certainly charming. He’d even taken to showing off his charms in a recent print add wearing only his very brief briefs. Fanning her face, Taryn tried to put the heated image aside. “I’ve seen cute guys before, Mom. I’m here to work and nothing else.”
Samantha let out a warm laugh. “That’s funny. I could have sworn I saw a few magazines that talked about the young chef; a lot of interesting photos, too.”
The sexually charged photos came back to Taryn’s mind. “There were some very interesting articles with those photos, Mom.”