The Sweet Life

by Sharon Struth

  “Okay. I’ve got a three-bedroom bungalow. Room one goes to Joel and Tina, room two goes to Bob and Carol, and”—Julian glanced up—“third room goes to Mamie.”

  She waited to walk over until the others had taken their keys. She approached him, their gazes meeting as he reached into a bag and pulled out a key. Lowering her voice, she said, “Do you do private tours of this place?”

  “I’ve been planning on it, for some of my special passengers.” His suggestive little smile made her toes curl. He quickly returned to the key disbursement.

  She followed the two couples to a relatively small stone cottage with clay-tiled roof, not far from two bigger houses. Stepping inside, she instantly fell in love. Terra-cotta floors held richly colored patterned rugs. Overhead, aged wood ceilings beams contrasted with contemporary, comfortable furniture surrounding a fireplace, yet together, they worked. Behind her, a kitchen opened into the main area, separated by a trestle table big enough to seat eight.

  Tina set down her Gucci luggage. “I have a bottle of wine from our vineyard visit. Everyone want a glass?”

  “Sure.” Mamie’s key tag was marked bedroom three. “I’m going to unpack first.”

  “Good idea,” said Tina. “Then we’ll all meet.”

  “Perfecto.” Bob winked at his wife. “See, honey? My Italian is getting better.”

  Carol just laughed, always her husband’s biggest fan.

  Mamie found her bedroom in the back of the house and opened the door. The tile floor and rustic-beamed ceiling carried into this room. A large bed covered by a white and creamy yellow bedspread was set against the far wall. She tossed her suitcase on the bed and began to unpack her clothing into an antique armoire stationed near sliding doors covered by light, white drapes. When she finished, she went to the sliding doors and parted the curtains.

  The sun rushed inside. Mamie opened a glass door and stepped out to a small balcony with a wrought iron railing. From here, she had a clear view to the empty fields edging gently sloped hills. Footsteps below on the stone walkway made her look down. Julian walked along, carrying a piece of luggage.

  “Hey, where you going?”

  He stopped and used his hand as a visor to block the sun. “Hello. We’re neighbors.”

  “Oh?”

  He pointed downhill to a small bungalow. “That’s where I’m staying.”

  “Coincidence or careful planning?”

  “You have to ask?” He moved closer, into the shade beneath her balcony. Dropping his voice, he added, “I like to keep an extra close eye on my adventure-seeking passengers.”

  “Is that so?” His suggestive tone and hooded eyes made her wish they were here alone, not under such watchful eyes. Mamie leaned on the balcony railing. “How much trouble can I get into around here?”

  “Guess that’s something I’ll find out.” He smiled slyly and turned, walking toward the cottage down a small hill, away from the complex’s other buildings.

  She watched him all the way, hoping he might turn around.

  When he reached his door, he did. “See you at dinner,” he yelled.

  She waved and ducked back inside the room. Dinner. For the next week, her life would be living in this rustic, charming setting with a man who’d revived her in both body and spirit.

  Maybe the adventure she craved wasn’t about the thrill of hang gliding or wandering inside caves. It could simply be found giving herself to a man who, by the hands of fate, had entered her life.

  Opening up to him offered a gentler danger. Sure, things could go wrong, like this morning. But if she didn’t do it now, she might never take the final steps needed to restore her life to normal.

  * * * *

  From Julian’s seat at the long patio dinner table, surrounded by the uplifting conversation of his passengers, he leaned back and feasted on the view. Dusk had arrived, changing the orange-streaked sky to a palate of dark blues, leaving only shadows of the surrounding hillside.

  When Claudia assigned him this tour, and he saw the villa as the second stop, he was glad. He loved this place, especially at this moment. White candles arranged in a row in the teak table’s center brightened the satisfied faces of his passengers. Or maybe it was the meal’s second course served by Chef Rao, a simple dish of fusilli with a raw tomato sauce served with generous glasses filled with Chianti.

  He tuned into the group’s laughter.

  “Okay, I’ve got one more joke. You’re gonna love this one...” Bob glanced around the table, looking pretty pleased with his attentive audience. “Sophie just got married and, being a traditional Italian, was still a virgin. On her wedding night, staying at her mother’s house, she was nervous. But mother reassured her. ‘Don’t worry, Sophie. Luca’s a good man. Go upstairs, and he’ll take care of you.’ So up she went. When she got upstairs, Luca took off his shirt and exposed his hairy chest. Sophie ran downstairs to her mother and said, ‘Mama, Mama, Luca’s got a big hairy chest.’ ‘Don’t worry, Sophie,’ said the mother, ‘All good men have hairy chests. Go upstairs. He’ll take good care of you.’”

  Julian looked around the table, smiling to himself at the anticipation on everyone’s face.

  “So, up she went again,” Bob continued. “When she got up in the bedroom, Luca took off his pants exposing his hairy legs. Again Sophie ran downstairs to her mother. ‘Mama, Mama, Luca took off his pants, and he’s got hairy legs!’ ‘Don’t worry. All good men have hairy legs. Luca’s a good man. Go upstairs, and he’ll take good care of you.’ So, up she went again. When she got up there, Luca took off his socks, and on his left foot he was missing three toes. When Sophie saw this, she ran downstairs. ‘Mama, Mama, Luca’s got a foot and a half!’ ‘Stay here and stir the pasta,’ says the mother. ‘This is a job for Mama!’”

  Everyone laughed, but Bob’s wide grin said it all. Julian couldn’t remember a group he’d enjoyed more than the Wanderers. They’d convinced him to let Mamie on the tour, too.

  His gaze drifted to her as she reached for her wine glass, her face still bright and glowing, her full smile a delight. Warmth for her flooded his heart. Yes, happy Mamie brought him joy. This was what he wanted for her. Every single time he thought about the agony of her expression when telling him about her daughter, a pain shot straight to the center of his heart.

  She’d handed him something precious by unveiling herself to him. More than any other woman had ever given him. All because worrying about her happiness, thinking about her even when she wasn’t around, gave his brain something to do besides dwelling on his problems. And when he’d handed her the truth about his job and why he lost it, she didn’t judge him.

  He watched her laughing. Since her arrival, she’d bloomed. Like the sunflowers of Tuscany followed the sun, Mamie responded to the magic of the region. He tried not to stare, but couldn’t drag his gaze away from the way her eyes shined like topaz in the flickering candlelight. For once, he felt inner peace.

  Could his honesty with her have been the key?

  Julian’s own losses had taunted him for most of his life. Starting with his parents, and over time, lost girlfriends—even though he’d ended things before he grew too attached. And now Carlos. But today, he’d opened the drawer on pain stuffed away long ago. A beautiful stranger who fell into his orbit proved loss didn’t have to leave one disabled.

  Chef Rao stepped outside onto the patio carrying a tray, his assistant behind him with one, too. “Lamb spiked with rosemary and garlic along with zucchini with potatoes and thyme.”

  Julian eased his self-reflection as the cooks placed platters at each end of the table.

  The portly chef smiled. “Buon appetito.”

  Food passed from person to person. Lively talk filled the air. Wine flowed like a fountain of happiness. The familial sounds of this gathering reminded Julian of growing up in Italy when they weren’t taping the show. For four mo
nths every year, they’d have a normal life. Tutors home schooled him and his sister while his parents researched future shows. A regular nine to five endeavor. For two additional months, they’d return to the States and visit his dad’s family. Then the cycle of taping would repeat.

  What would his life have been if they had normal jobs? Lived in Michigan where his parents were married and Julian born. What if they hadn’t died? Questions with no answers that only made his heart ache.

  “Hey, Julian.” Joel leaned across the table. “Want to show me where the wine cellar is and help me grab a few more bottles?”

  Julian snapped out of his stupor. “Sure.”

  Standing, he glanced to Mamie’s seat, now empty. He followed Joel through the sliding glass doors and toward the kitchen.

  Joel turned to him. “Do you ever get tired of your job?”

  “No. Not yet, anyway.” For a second, he considered sharing about his childhood on the road, but to discuss it might lead to more and more about himself. Pieces he feared revealing, because he never easily opened up about himself.

  On their way through the large living room, the downstairs bathroom door opened. Mamie exited and smiled at them.

  “I was just telling our chef this might be the best meal I’ve had in my life.”

  Chef Rao’s voice carried from the kitchen, “And I told her, wait until tomorrow’s surprise.”

  “The anticipation is killing me.” She laughed, the sound light and carefree. “God, I love everything about this place.”

  Julian wanted to pull her close, feel those soft lips against his. Instead he smiled and motioned for Joel to follow him through a doorway leading to the cellar.

  At the bottom, Joel approached a wall made of stone with built-in wine racks. He took out a bottle, read the label, then put it back. Removing another, he said, “So? What’s going on with you two?”

  “Who? Me and Mamie?”

  Joel chuckled. “No. You and Chef Rao.” He removed another bottle. “Yes, you and Mamie.”

  “Nothing. Look, when you saw us at the horse race...she was upset about the accident during the trials. The jockey was bloody, and—well, I hated to see her upset.”

  Joel read a third label and placed the bottle of Chianti on a small mahogany table before moving to the next section of bottles marked Pinot Grigio. “So those were kisses of comfort?”

  “Yeah, that’s all.”

  Joel removed two bottles of white wine and turned to Julian. “You sure about that?”

  “Positive. It’s against my boss’s rules for me to get involved with any passengers.”

  Joel lifted the bottle of red and tucked it in the crook of his arm. “I won’t tell.” He started toward the stairs, but stopped and his expression grew more serious. “Take it from a man who hasn’t always lived life to its fullest...carpe diem, buddy. Best decision I ever made was to admit to myself how I felt about Tina.”

  “And I’m glad for you. But I’ve got my job to worry about.”

  Joel continued to the stairs. “Wanna grab two more bottles of Chianti?” He took the first step and stopped. “Like I said, seize the day, Julian. The things that matter in life don’t always make themselves so obvious.”

  He walked up the stairs, but the weight of his words hung in the cool basement air. Yes, Mamie did something to him. So why the hell did he tiptoe around it and use work as an excuse?

  He reached for the same bottle he’d seen Joel take upstairs, grabbing two. Footsteps on the concrete stairs made him turn around. Mamie appeared at the landing and approached him.

  “Joel sent me down here for some sparkling water. Do you know where I can find it?”

  Seize the day...

  “Over there.” He motioned behind her and placed the bottles on a nearby shelf.

  Seize the damn day!

  Julian took one long step toward Mamie, slipped his hand around her back, and then drew her close. She inhaled a sharp breath, but he waited no longer and lowered his lips to hers. They were soft and warm. Carefully, he moved her against the cellar stone wall, closed her in with his arms on either side of her shoulders.

  She parted her lips, her chest heaving with each breath.

  Julian cupped the curve of her cheek, swept her beautiful full lower lip with his thumb.

  “All night...” he whispered. “All night I’ve wanted to kiss you.”

  She searched his face then stretched on tiptoes until their lips met with a hard kiss, jolting him with a message strong as espresso and casting aside any doubt. He touched the soft dip in her waist, the curve of her hip. Slipping his hands to her back, he drew her body near as she softly moaned, making his desire for her soar. Not only for the same physical needs that pushed him to one-night stands, or with the passion found in his never-ending risky adventures.

  No. This thing with Mamie came from a different place deep inside the gaps of his heart, left unfulfilled for too long. This desire offered another kind of risk. A sweeter kind that, if achieved, yielded greater life rewards.

  Chapter 16

  Mamie sank into the warm tub water, her head fuzzy from the wine and her heart glowing like the glimmering candle’s flame now dancing on the golden bathroom walls. What an unbelievable day. She tipped back her head and stared at the rustic ceiling beams overhead, a contrast to the modern plumbing. This villa was perfection.

  She lifted her hand from the water and touched her lips with damp fingers, still imagining Julian’s generous kisses during the night. Their cellar kiss had kicked off a flurry of passion for the meal’s duration, Chef Rao’s creations taking a back seat to the sweetness of Julian’s lips. Subtle glances they shared at the table held enormous power. By night’s end, when Julian found her alone in the kitchen rinsing out a glass, he’d leaned her against the sink, placed his hands on her hips, and whispered, “You’re so beautiful.” The space between her thighs had burned for more of him. Much more.

  No man had ever spoken those words to her. Ted often called her pretty or adorable, always said in a way that showed his love for her. But now another man had claimed a stake in her heart. Guilt edged toward her, a challenge of loyalty she hadn’t prepared for.

  If common sense were to dictate, she shouldn’t have any guilt. Ted wasn’t the first or only man she’d slept with. He was, however, the only man she loved so deeply she wanted to share a lifetime together.

  Intimacy with Ted had carried an intense spark since their first kiss in the back of a movie theater, a blind date that made her believe in love at first sight. In the months after losing him, she’d lie in their bed wishing to wake just one more time with his body curled close to hers, his hands caressing, slowly rousing her to wake. Like he had the last time they’d made love. A lazy Saturday morning, where Zoe had slept in for once. Ted had unexpectedly nuzzled alongside Mamie and she rolled over into his arms. She reached out and ran a hand through his messy hair.

  Desire had burned in his sleepy blue eyes. “Morning, doll. I think we’ve just been given the gift of time.”

  The gift of time. Handed to them so casually and jerked away later that afternoon thanks to a drunk driver.

  Goosebumps zipped along Mamie’s arms. She glanced up and spotted the thin white curtain near the bathroom window flapping from the open window. She stood, grabbed a towel off the rack, and quickly shut the window, although the chill remained. Mamie dried off, but Ted’s words haunted her.

  The gift of time.

  A rarely acknowledged handout. With this trip, it had been handed to her again. It started with the spellbinding Tuscan countryside, like CPR for her soul. Then another present arrived, slowly revealed in the connection to a man who made her less lonely. Made her forget her problems.

  She’d hoped Julian would invite her back to his place after dinner ended. She’d have gone. But he didn’t, and she wasn’t the type to push. Having
him say no might steal all her recently found bravado.

  She hung the towel, tossed on a thick terrycloth robe, and removed the band holding her loose bun, shaking her head to relax her hair. Leaving the bathroom, she went to the balcony doors and stepped outside. The cool air raised goose bumps on her skin. She ignored the chill and watched Julian’s villa. A light burned in a back room. Was that his bedroom? She imagined herself walking over, knocking on the door. Opening her robe...

  She sighed and tilted her head back to a canopy of glittering stars leading up to the heavens, if they did exist. Please, Ted. You know how hard this is for me. A sign. Any sign that I’m supposed to move on.

  She shut her eyes, wishing as hard as she could something, anything, would happen. When she opened them, her gaze drifted back to Julian’s place. A broad-shouldered silhouette stood in the back window and waved. Julian. They stared at each other for a few seconds. He opened the window and his face brightened from the light of a nearly full moon.

  He motioned with his hand for her to come over.

  Beneath her robe, she wore nothing. All her bathtub fantasies got very real. As far as signs went, this qualified.

  She nodded, came inside, and hurried down the dark steps, quietly to make sure she didn’t wake her housemates. Swiping her key off the table near the front door, she slipped outside into the moonlit walkway.

  On her way, she glanced to Julian’s window but he wasn’t there. She hurried along the stone pavement, smooth against the pads of her bare feet. Cool air drifted to the naked skin beneath her robe, heightening this deliciously forbidden venture.

  She reached the door, her heart pounding fast as she lifted a fist to knock. The door swung open.

  Julian stood on the other side, still in the jeans he’d worn at dinner, his button-down shirt now open with nothing underneath. Taking her by the arm, he guided her inside the room, closed the door, and pressed her against it. Anticipation of his touch made her heart pulse fast. The glow of a full moon brought in a pale stream of light, enough for her to see the need burning in his eyes.