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The Sweet Life

Page 9

by Sharon Struth


  “No, amore mio. You’re the sweet one.” He kissed her neck. She faced him and he pressed his mouth to hers, a gentle kiss like the one he placed on Mamie’s lips when he’d picked her up for their scooter ride. “Only you.”

  Mamie stood still as a stick. Charm obviously came naturally to Paolo. An American man would never presume to kiss a woman that casually. But now she’d seen Paolo do it twice.

  “So, tonight,” he crooned in a voice that could entice a corpse to sit up, “you will come back when I get through here and I will take you out in town? Sì?”

  Mamie turned and quietly walked away, feeling every part the fool for traveling here today. She was nothing to this man. Just another easily manipulated tourist. That’s all.

  She hurried back to the sedan. Hopefully the driver wouldn’t detect the embarrassment making her face feel hot, or notice the slightly inflated sense of self-worth she’d arrived with now slipping down the drain.

  Chapter 8

  Ping.

  Mamie sifted through the bag of clothes she’d purchased yesterday and chose a pair of black overall shorts then rushed to the nightstand to find out who’d texted.

  Are you there?

  Allison again? Mamie glanced at the clock. Eight-thirty in Italy made it three-thirty AM in Manhattan. Late last night, Mamie had chosen to cry on her boss’s shoulder after the surprise visit to Paolo went sour.

  She returned to the shopping bag and put the phone down. After removing a black and white striped T-shirt, just like the mannequin at the store wore beneath the overalls, Mamie slipped it over her head. The outfit had been displayed with leather platform sandals, but Mamie could only take this new attempt at updating her looks so far. She shimmied into the overalls and slipped on flat white Keds.

  The phone pinged again. This time she replied.

  Yes. What are you doing up? It’s the middle of the night in NY.

  She hit send and tossed the cell phone onto the bed. Allison’s consolations had helped eased some of the foolishness Mamie felt over visiting San Gimignano to see a man she hardly knew. Of course the thing with Paolo was never serious, only she never dreamed he’d have a lineup of American women.

  She studied herself in the mirror, surprised by the improved reflection staring back at her. More stylish, but still casual enough. The phone pinged again.

  Can’t sleep. Lying here thinking about your thrill-seeking list and the idea of a fling. You know, sometimes we all need a good roll in the hay. Why don’t you head for the hotel bar?

  Mamie sat on the bed’s edge deciding how to answer. Someone else had caught her attention, but not a stranger at the bar. Ever since she’d made the deal with Julian, spending time with him lurked in the back of her thoughts. Time not as the mysterious trip director, hell bent on taming her off-tour pursuits, but as... As what?

  A persistent interest in him haunted her. What did he hide behind his close-cropped beard and longer-than-necessary hair? Was it camouflage to hide the story his piercing emerald eyes sometimes gave away? The short peek he’d offered her yesterday only fueled her appetite for more.

  Under any other circumstances, she’d pronounce Julian as smart, interesting. So what if she wanted to feel that scruffy beard against her cheek while kissing? Once Ted had grown out his facial hair for a week. Mamie loved it, but Ted ended up shaving it off, preferring a cleaner look.

  What was happening to her?

  This short time in Italy somehow broke the lock off a door she’d shut on her emotions, and kept closed during those nights alone in her bed, missing Ted at her side. Now the door had cracked up and—lo and behold—a line waited outside to get in. Some advice right about now might be useful.

  She started to type back about Julian but stopped and erased it. Allison might be her friend, but she was also her boss. Julian played a role in her review of Wanderlust, something Allison would see as affecting her objectivity.

  A valid point, reminding Mamie how a fling with him would come with other drawbacks. The excursion still had another week after they left Siena. A week that might be pretty damn awkward if anything intimate happened and then fizzled.

  She started typing again...

  Thanks for the suggestion. The more important things on my list are the ones I can’t do at home. There are still men in New York, right? Try to sleep and don’t worry about me. Gotta run. We’re heading out soon. Xx

  Mamie tossed the phone into her backpack and left. As she came down the stairs, she thought she saw Julian dart into a lobby alcove with vending machines. Yesterday, Mamie went in there and purchased two bags of a treat called Biski, a cookie with chocolate filling.

  She hit the last step and rushed past the alcove thinking about the delicious treat when he grabbed her arm and gently pulled her into the small room.

  “Shhh.” Julian stood close, looking down at her with a serious expression. He lowered his voice. “Do you trust me?”

  Her heart pounded, partly from the shock of being pulled inside the hidden area, partly very aware of his hand still touching her arm. “Yes,” she whispered. “I trust you.”

  His eyes softened and he let go. “Good. Because today we’ll have our first adventure.”

  “Oh.” She’d expected a little warning. “Am I dressed okay for it?”

  His gaze trickled over her, more appreciatively then she’d seen him looking at her in the past. He grinned. “Perfect. Now listen. Follow my lead when we arrive in Lucca. No questions asked. Okay?”

  She nodded, caught up in the scent of freshly showered man and the finer details of his trimmed beard. Again thinking how it would feel brushing her skin during a kiss or—

  “And tell Sandra you’re going to sneak away at the start of the tour,” he added. “I don’t want her—or anyone else—worrying about you. But don’t tell her it’s with me.”

  “Okay.” Sneak away?

  “See you on the bus.” He winked and walked out, leaving her wanting for... What did she want?

  And what exactly did he have planned? Yesterday in the lobby she’d taken some paragliding brochures, now inside her backpack. Maybe he’d found the same place just outside of Lucca, although she suspected her current outfit wasn’t perfect for paragliding...

  Whatever plan he’d concocted, anticipation wrapped her in its grip. Usually she didn’t care for surprises, but right now she loved the idea.

  * * * *

  “Okay, folks. Can I have your attention?” Julian stood in the front of the bus, holding the back of Beppe’s seat to steady himself as the vehicle made a turn.

  He waited while the noise settled down. “Thank you. We’re just outside of Lucca. This is one of my favorite places in Tuscany. Lucca is both charming and cosmopolitan. Though it hasn’t been involved in a war since 1430, it is Italy’s most impressive fortress city, encircled by a perfectly intact wall.”

  All eyes were on him, their faces curious as they listened intently to the wisdom of his travel experiences. Back when doing the show, Julian loved an audience, about the only thing he missed since leaving. A job allowing him to share his passion for exploring new places and cultures had been a true gift. Learning how much he enjoyed imparting his knowledge in a more personal way on these small tours was a surprise. On the show, he talked to a camera and any locals watching from the sidelines, but he rarely got to know anyone.

  From her seat behind Bernie and Sandra, Mamie pulled out her notebook. She was always scribbling something. What did she write about today?

  They hit a bump, sending him pitching to the left and grabbing Beppe’s seat more securely to avoid falling. “There’s an old Italian proverb my grandmother used to say to me, ‘All things are difficult before they are easy.’ One could say this about Lucca. It’s not the easiest place to find your way around, but I promise, you won’t remember all the times you got lost. It’s a place untouched b
y time, so authentically Italian you’ll think you are on the set of a 1940s Fellini film.”

  His gaze drifted to Mamie, who had stopped her note taking and smiled gently at him. He wished for her to love this city like he did, especially in light of his plans.

  Standing close to her in the vending machine alcove earlier, taunted by her glistening lips and dark-chocolate eyes, Julian couldn’t remember when a woman had caused his heart to beat so hard against his ribs. Her eyes sparkled, a sign she’d already gotten caught up in his mystery.

  Today, he planned to turn the ordinary into the extraordinary. Television had taught him how to do it, starting with building suspense. His introduction to their day had been the kickoff.

  Knowledge, he’d always found, carried some power. He’d channel his into something she wouldn’t expect. Ordinary things with enough magic to make her believe she’d been on an adventure worthy of her list. All while doing nothing she actually had on her list.

  He glanced up to find all eyes on him, waiting to hear more while he’d been off in la-la land. “Okay, so today I have a treat for you guys. One of my friends is a tour guide in Lucca. His name is Fabrizio and he knows this place better than the back of his hand. He’s far more qualified than I am to share this city’s secrets.”

  “Aw, we’ll miss you,” Bob Leon remarked from his seat in the back, making the others chuckle.

  “Don’t worry. I’m not leaving you for good.” Julian smiled. “Question...anybody know the name of one of Lucca’s most famous citizens?”

  He expected Joel to answer, but he sat next to Tina with his nose buried in a book on Italian history. The other passengers shook their heads.

  “The answer is Puccini.” Mostly puzzled faces stared back. “Nobody? He didn’t play at Woodstock, but some of you must’ve heard of him.”

  Bob’s face brightened. “Oh wait. Isn’t he the guy who wrote La Bohème?”

  “Yes! Did you see it?”

  “My first wife made me go see that for her birthday one year.”

  Bob’s curly-haired current wife raised a brow, but remained typically quiet.

  “What’d you think?” Julian asked.

  “I think it made my wife happy.” He laughed. “She got me there by telling me it was a tale of youth, love, and tragic loss. I told her for some that would describe Woodstock.”

  Julian enjoyed their laughter as he returned to his seat. Soon they neared the city wall. He looked over his shoulder, his gaze drifting to Mamie, who studied him through softly hooded lids and an ever-so-slight smile, her message so tempting it made his heart skip a little faster.

  Beppe pulled into the lot and Julian tore himself from her gaze. The turmoil she caused still raged inside of him. What was it about her? So different from the women he usually gravitated toward. In fact, he might have walked right by while barhopping with friends in Rome.

  Standing outside the bus door, he counted as each person stepped to the ground. As Mamie got off, their gazes met. She offered another smile as subtle as the Mona Lisa’s. His neck warmed and his damn heart started jumping around again. “Don’t forget what we talked about.”

  “I’m all set,” she said casually, strolling to the others.

  They stayed together while walking through throngs of tourists heading for the city gates. Julian talked about Lucca’s history then added, “We’ll meet our guide at the Piazza dell’Anfiteatro. This town square was once a Roman amphitheater. Make sure Fabrizio points out what remains from the original structure.”

  The group entered the city beneath an arched gate built into the city walls. Julian walked in silence, unable to help his own smile. He had so many fun things planned for Mamie today. He only hoped she enjoyed them as much as he did.

  A few minutes later, they reached the amphitheater. He ushered them inside, inhaling a deep breath as he scanned the open area for his friend. The circle of buildings surrounding the main square carried a charm all its own, with uneven stucco houses painted in a spectrum of shades from bright gold to more muted pales, all with green shutters.

  “This, folks, is the center of town. Once a place where the Romans held spectacles and gladiator games for up to ten thousand spectators. A humbling fact, isn’t it?” He glanced around the tourist-filled amphitheater and this time found Fabrizio. Standing in the center, the tall, thin guide had dressed in dark suit pants and a white dress shirt. Almost out of place amongst the vacationers.

  Julian waved and Fabrizio approached.

  After a brief introduction to the passengers, Julian said, “I’m leaving you in very capable hands. We’ll meet at this spot by three-thirty. During your lunch break, Fabrizio can recommend some great places.” He waved a hand at the tour guide. “Take it away, my friend.”

  Fabrizio spoke English quite well. Julian watched for a few minutes as he engaged with the tour’s passengers. He located Mamie in the group, standing alone near Bernie and Sandra.

  Julian walked on the outskirts of the semicircle and went straight to Mamie’s side. She glanced his way and he held his index finger to his lips.

  A spark of excitement over the secrecy played in her eyes as she nodded.

  He whispered, “Did you talk to Sandra?”

  “Yes. She’s covering for me. I didn’t tell her I’d be with you.”

  “Perfect.” Breaking another of Claudia’s rules was one thing, but announcing it to the others on the tour could lead to more problems. “When the time is right, just follow my lead.”

  She nodded.

  Fabrizio led the Wanderers toward an original Roman wall, one of several. The pack followed like a content herd of sheep. Mamie started to follow, but Julian took her hand and pulled her to his side, slowly walking backward as the gap between them and their tour widened. When everyone else’s attention seemed focused on Fabrizio, Julian said, “Let’s go.”

  Together they walked fast toward an arched opening leading out of the square. He slowed, reminded about her injury from the scooter accident, not to mention the slight limp she always had. When Joel had examined her after the scooter crash, she’d said the injury happened in an accident. Maybe he’d ask her about it.

  They finally reached the archway and stopped inside, where he could no longer see the others. Her soft hand remained in his, but he let go. “How does your leg feel today?”

  “Like new.” She gave him a quick smile, then got serious. “Hold on. Before we start...” She slipped a small backpack off her shoulder and opened the front flap. “I got this from the desk last night.” She handed him a brochure.

  He studied the cover of a paragliding outfit, not far from the Lucca city limits.

  She went to his side and peeked at the brochure. “I wasn’t sure what you had in mind for today, but this caught my eye.” She pointed at the cover. “Gorgeous views, huh?”

  “So it’s views you want?”

  “I’d say that would be a decent start—”

  “Perfect. The plans I have will give you some.” He folded the brochure and stuck it in the pocket of his shorts. “Let’s go.”

  They walked through the city and Julian stayed in his tour-director mode, pointing out landmarks, talking about the sights. Always easier than small talk. In the back of his mind, he worried. His plans didn’t come close to paragliding. The idea of disappointing her nagged him like a pair of tight shoes.

  He couldn’t forget his end game, though... To show her adventure could come in many forms.

  “Is it true there’s a mummified body of a saint here in Lucca?” Mamie asked out of the blue.

  He glanced her way, caught off guard by her pretty smile. He wished he could frame her happier expression. Not the sadness he’d caught her first few days with the tour. “Now that question is probably the last thing I’d have expected you to ask me.”

  “Sometimes I surprise people. I even surpris
e myself.” She arched a brow. “Like agreeing to sneak away with you.”

  “Well, you’re right. There is a mummified saint and she’s known as the incorruptible St. Zita. She died in the thirteenth century. Her body was exhumed in 1580 and hadn’t deteriorated, but rather mummified. Hence the incorruptible.”

  “Maybe she just wouldn’t take a bribe.”

  He laughed. “Trying to rewrite history, are we?”

  “Never.” Mamie’s eyes went wide as they took a corner and walked straight into an open-air market. She rushed to the first table, holding more antiques than a shopper might find in the whole of New England. “Can we look around?”

  “How about later? You might need your hands free to do what I planned.”

  “Oh? Sounds like you did find me an adventure. Okay. I’ll wait.”

  She smiled and walked at his side, the joy in her eyes so palpable he swore he could feel it. At this moment, breaking the rules felt strangely right and he just didn’t care.

  * * * *

  Mamie was falling madly in love with Tuscany. Yes. It was definitely love.

  She thought about a line written in her notebook last night and decided to try it out. “Want to know what I love about Tuscany?”

  He glanced her way. “Of course.”

  “How each medieval hilltop town holds the adventure of a box of mixed chocolates...you don’t know what you were getting until you take a bite, but are never disappointed.”

  He tipped his head and considered her for a moment. “That’s great. Did you make that up?”

  “In a way. It reminded me of the line Forrest Gump says in the movie.”

  Julian nodded. “Oh, right. About life. Well, I still like it. Sounds like you’re a fan of chocolate, too?”

  “A super fan.”

  “I’ll do my best to find you the best in Italy, then.”

  Julian smiled and rather abruptly began to describe the sights. He remained quiet about what he had planned for them. The secrecy gave her a teeny thrill. Even telling Sandra she planned to sneak off had carried a decadent quality, like telling your mom you’d be with a friend, but instead were meeting a boy in the mall. Something she never would’ve done. Only new Mamie would.

 

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