by SJ Molloy
“Oh I see. Was it Jane or Lexi that saw you today?” he asks. I stare at the logo on top of the invoices, the small diamond sitting in the palm of a hand, and I rub my thumb over it, deep in contemplation.
“Lexi.” It falls from my lips in an easy whisper. I like the way Lexi sounds on my tongue. I say it again just to enjoy the sound of her name. “Lexi saw me.”
“Ah, she is my business partner. We were in placement together in the hospitals when we both first qualified. She is very good. Okay, if you would like to see her again, you will need to wait. She is going on holiday for three weeks. I can certainly treat you. I have free appointments at the end of this week and beginning of next,” he says, as if he is not hearing me or maybe I am not making myself clear enough. I place the documents down on the table, scratching my stubble with my thumb.
“Her holiday … I hope she is going somewhere nice?” I would like to lighten the mood and create a good rapport with this Mark fellow.
“I am sure it will be nice. She has been looking forward to going on this Tuscany trip for ages.” That got my attention. Home.
“Sounds lovely. Italy is my native country. I might be biased, but I do love Tuscany and highly recommend it for sightseeing. Italy is a wonderful country, very beautiful, vibrant, and cultural. I have been lucky to travel all around it over the years.” Smiling, the air leaves my lungs for the second time today. I lift my hand and place it over my heart and think that maybe God is watching over me today.
“She really has been looking forward to it and she deserves the break. It will be good for her,” Mark adds.
“Well, I am sure she will have a wonderful time and a very memorable trip.” I stare at my notepad. I pick up my pen and scribble the words: Lexi ~ Italia and tomorrow’s date.
I think I just found our first topic of conversation as an ice breaker when I do eventually get her to agree to go on a date with me. I can ask her all about her Italian holiday, spend endless time educating her in anything remotely Italian, and get to know her likes and dislikes.
What a fucking coincidence. A huge epic coincidence that I am praying will be in my favour. I honestly feel the weirdest sense of peace … or hope. It is hard to explain, like a spiritual sign or something. Well, one thing is for sure, at least I know Lexi and I have one thing in common. We apparently share an interest in Italy.
“Look, I really want to see her again but she insisted I book in with you. I would very much like you to call her and tell her that you cannot take me on as a patient and tell her she will need to take me on,” I stipulate, scrolling through pages of emails on my desktop.
“If you have spinal issues, I can assure you I am extremely qualified and have very successful results while treating patients in my care.” I remember Lexi telling me that. Right now, I could not give a flying fuck if he has magical fucking healing powers. I want her hands on me.
“I am sure you are, but like I said, I want her but she refuses to treat me as a patient.” Exasperation now evident in my tone, my thumb puts pressure on my temple.
He clears his throat and hesitates. “If she won’t treat you, then I’m sure there is a reason for it. Until I speak with her, I don’t know her reason for not treating you, and if she specifically asked you to see me, then I need to honour that.”
Diplomatic and respectful, but I am not accepting that bullshit. “The reason she refused to treat me is because I asked her out on a date. She says she will not date patients. I agreed to see you if it makes it easier on her and would convince her to go out with me. But the reality is … I want to see her. In and out of the clinic, you understand? I would very much like to see her again, and I would like you to tell her she needs to treat me,” I say honestly, man to man, raking my hands through my hair.
“Yeah, well I will need to speak to her first. It’s not like Lexi. Something just isn’t sitting right with me. Did she actually agree to go on a date with you? Someone she doesn’t know?” He sounds extremely curious, shocked no less.
“No, she did not agree, that is why I want her to treat me, so I can get to know her better and convince her to go out with me,” I reply. Agitation pulls my brow down into a deep frown.
“I would be surprised if she did agree. It’s not her nature. Anyway, why don’t I treat you until she comes back? If she changes her mind on treating you, then fine. If not, then I am sorry, Mr. Caruso, there is nothing I can do. She has reasons and I need to respect that.”
If it was not for the fact that I am desperate right now, I would commend this bloke on his decency and loyalty to her.
“Is she attached to someone? Does she have a boyfriend?” A brusque rasp in my voice heats my throat. I am done with the pleading. This man is good and he is not giving up so I need to be blunt. I was hoping he would be with me on this man to man. Is that what this is about? She is already taken or an ex was also a patient and fucked her over?
“Mr. Caruso, I—” he stutters. I have put him under pressure now.
“Lucca, please call me Lucca.” I try to school my tone, conscious that I am being abrupt and if I piss him off, then I will get no information whatsoever. In frustration, I pick up some old mail, tear it up, and toss it in the bin.
“Lucca, I would rather not talk about my business partner’s personal life or lack thereof. It should be confidential in the same way a patient’s details should be confidential.” I stand up out my chair, put him on speaker, and pace the floor.
Lack thereof? Perhaps she is not taken after all.
“Mark … as the club owner, your landlord, and if you really want to be specific, your boss, then from a business perspective I am asking you to inform me of personal information regarding one of my employees. If I care to enter my employee database and records, I am sure I will find the information I am looking for. But I am asking you … professionally of course … as your boss.” I stop pacing the floor when I hear him clear his throat. He is speechless.
“You seem like an intelligent man, Mark, and I value your work ethic. In fact, I think we will get on great, and I am happy we have you as part of our Club di Energia team. You have qualities I admire and the potential to be very successful, a great asset to the team. You exude the professionalism I strive to deliver.”
“Mr. Caruso, it is a pleasure and honour having workspace in your club, and I hope that Lexi, Jane, and myself will always provide a professional standard of service. Thank you for saying so, but I’m afraid I can’t divulge that kind of personal information. Not only do I trust Lexi’s business decisions, I also value her friendship and I do not want to upset her. This is highly inappropriate,” Mark says concisely.
He is right. It is inappropriate. I throw my pen across the pad on a breathy sigh. What is he hiding? What is it about Lexi that makes him want to protect her, while I obsess about getting to know her so I can learn to protect her? She consumes my every thought since I left the club, and this dickhead is just making me even more desperate to get to know her and win her over.
When she refused me in the club today, fuck that was a new experience for me and a kick in the balls. For a brief moment I was going to take it personally, but maybe it is her way. Maybe her morals are very high and there is a chance that she would have considered going on a date with me had we not met in her workplace.
“Lucca, you are putting me in an awkward position here.” He sounds tetchy.
“Just give me the basic information I ask, Mark, and save me some time,” I plead, taking a seat at my desk and scrolling through my desktop files to find the file for the clubs employee database.
“No, she is not attached nor has any interest to be,” he mentions sharply.
I pause, close my eyes, and drag my teeth over my bottom lip. A weight has just been lifted off my shoulders and I silently thank my lucky fucking stars.
“Okay, that is a start. I am going to wait until she comes back from her trip, and I will ask her again if she would like to go on that date. Unless of course you wo
uld like to give me her number?” I ask optimistically.
“I am sorry, Lucca. I cannot give her number out without permission. If there is nothing else, I’ll say goodbye.” It is not lost on me that he sounds irate.
The buzz of the dial tone indicates he has hung up on me. Not that I am surprised, I would probably do the same thing if I was challenged like that. Honestly, I admire this fellow’s professionalism. He has Lexi’s best interests at heart and that is reassuring. At least I know she is available and I very much plan on making her mine. So a challenge it will be. Thank fuck I am one determined son of a bitch.
I have probably left him baffled, but fuck it. I found out more tonight than I hoped for. I completely forgot to check the employee database because Savio knocks on the door and tells me the game is about to start.
I advise him I have finished up with my business and close down the desktop, gathering a few things from my desk. Savio plonks his ass on the sofa and watches me curiously.
“What is going on with you? And do not tell me nothing. You have been distant most of the night. Is it because of what I said earlier? I am really sorry about that, Bro.” He takes a swig of his beer.
“No, it is not that. Honestly, you said nothing wrong. My mind is just occupied because I met someone today and I cannot get her out of my fucking head,” I say.
“Oh, a good lady has my brother’s attention. Fuck, this does not happen every day. Tell me about her,” he says in a more serious tone. Whenever my papa is unavailable, Savio, being the oldest, has always stood in as our confidante and head of the family. Even though he is only just a few years older than me, I give him his place and still look up to him, appreciating his support and considering his opinions.
“That is just it. She is a good lady, seems like the type I would like to spend the rest of my life with. But she blew me off.” I smirk and Savio laughs.
“Well, well. Are you losing your charm? What did you do to her?” He playfully punches my shoulder.
“Nothing. That is just it. She refused to date or see me. It just makes me want her even more. She does not seem like other women. There is something about her, something that has captured and intrigued me, not to mention she is very beautiful,” I add, gesturing towards the door.
“Then you do whatever it takes to win her over. You are not getting any younger. Come on, Lucca, do not let me down. You are the king of charm,” he says, switching off the study light while I open the door for him.
“You sound like Papa.” I scoff when we reach the hallway.
“Yeah and he is wise. You know he talks a lot of sense.”
“Look, Bro, do not mention this to Mamma. You know how she gets. Fuck, I do not even know a single thing about this girl. If she thinks I am interested in someone, she will be planning fucking wedding menus,” I joke, walking back through the house to head upstairs to the third floor, Savio following behind me.
After a rowdy and noisy night of shouting and swearing at the Champions league final, some friendly banter, and several drinks later by the pool, the lads are pissed and decide to call it a night and crash. I let them find a bed either in the house or the guest accommodation out the back, as there is plenty to choose from.
Entering my suite, I lift my running T-shirt up to my nose and inhale the intoxicating scent that I would very much like to have permanently lingering on me, on my body. The smell of Lexi. I wash up and swallow two pain killers and an anti-inflammatory pill, hoping I get a good sleep and tomorrow my back pain will be non-existent.
Collapsing on the bed with exhaustion, I fall into a deep sleep dreaming about big, brown, sweet eyes, luscious glossy lips, smooth skin, and the sexiest body I have ever seen. When I wake, I have the biggest fucking hard-on known to man, which I am about to take care of when I jolt up in a panic.
I do not even know her surname. I never got her surname and I never checked the employee database because Savio distracted me. Fuck, why did I not think to ask Mark this? What a fundamental cockup.
Reaching over, I grab my tablet as I want to access the database file to find out when I realise the time. Fuck! I have slept in. I never sleep in. Lexi must have expertly massaged every piece of tension out of my body yesterday. I have never slept this late as long as I can remember.
Shit, my meeting. I jump up with ease as my back pain has almost vanished, have a shower, throw on a suit, grab my bags, and meet Peter downstairs with Marco waiting to go. Rose, bless her, has already made the lads a full Scottish breakfast. She really is a treasure.
I refuse breakfast as I need to get into Osurac head office as soon as possible. Instead, I grab some fruit, but Rose insists on packing up a toasted bacon sandwich for me. After saying goodbye to the lads and my beautiful kind Rose, Peter takes Marco and me to head office.
Four hours later and the longest fucking meeting in the history of all meetings, I prepare to go. Kimberley had to cancel my lunch-time flight from Glasgow to Tuscany and reschedule me on the next available one because the meeting ran over. It leaves me feeling agitated because all I can think about is that Lexi might have been on that plane.
Fucking twisted hand of fate screwing with me again.
After Peter drops us off in the airport, we have just about enough time to grab a quick beer in the executive lounge. I scan the airport, watch the check-in desks, suss out the duty free, but nothing. I know I am not missing her because I would recognise her instantly in a heartbeat. She must have been on the earlier flight.
“Are you going to tell me why you were quiet last night and why you seem so harassed today, stalking every passenger to walk through the airport?” Marco asks, sitting in the chair in front of me.
Marco is very trustworthy and a great mate, as are the other lads, but Marco and I have the longest history together so he is very much like a brother to me. He gets my upbringing and knew me before I became a successful business mogul.
He knew me.
He knows me.
Our childhood summers were spent running through vineyards, hanging out in the truffle fields, in his papa’s art galleries, or at my parents and grandparents villas. Many summer days we loved adventures on Lorenzo’s papa’s boat. Then after a long day at sea we would grill the fish we caught over hot coals on the beach.
We collected blueberries, olives, oranges, and truffles. We dove off the pier, made rope swings and a treehouse. If we were lucky, we were allowed into the kitchen on big feast nights and helped the chef prepare the food.
Some of my fondest memories are of Marco, my siblings, and myself going to Viagreggio’s Carnival, visiting the Calcio Storico Fiorentino in Florence, and watching the medieval games at Ferie Delle Messi in San Gimignano. Our parents wanted us to experience ancient and traditional festivals celebrated year and year again in Tuscany.
I still remember Marco’s papa, Marcario, showing us how to hang artwork in his studios when we were only teenagers, and learning how to make ragu sauce from my mamma. My nonna even taught us all about the flowers in her garden, and Marco’s mamma … she let us paint on blank canvas. Of course we were not very good; it resulted in us covered from head to toe in primary paint, only to get thrown in a bath to get scrubbed with a thick bristly brush and soap.
Marco and I had some amazing times together, along with the Bartolomei twin brothers, my good friend Lorenzo, and our other friends Francesca, Adela, Paulo, who is Gina’s brother, and the Di Piertro brothers.
We were all the same age and at school together. We were a team. While Savio and his friends were stuck in their homework, Armando and his friends were younger and not allowed the same privileges as we were and not allowed to roam too far. Orianna was just too little and never left my papa’s sight. But I was a traveller, an explorer, and loved the outdoors.
My friends and I, we were kings of the Chianti hills. Or so we thought. We roamed, we discovered, and we were free. Free to live the Tuscan life the way a young boy should.
We fished, went on double dates, picn
ics, and we learned all about romance from our papas. It was something that was ingrained in us. It was taught to us from an early age. We were meant to be lovers, providers, and caretakers. We were meant to charm our girlfriends but never lose focus of working hard and being the primary provider. It was mapped out for us.
Marco’s first love and long-term girlfriend, Adela, sadly died of womb cancer only two years after his mamma died of breast cancer. He has never quite got over it and never dated anyone else since that I am aware of. We share similar emotions and experiences and have both dealt with it in extremely different ways.
My situation with Jasmine was completely different because she was never my girlfriend … just an amazing woman and friend, and ironically cancer hadn’t killed her in the end. I always wondered if that was why I felt a connection to Jasmine when first meeting her. She was suffering from ovarian cancer so it brought back memories of Adela and her unfortunate battle.
When I was going through my treatment, Marco was the only person other than Jasmine I confided in. He, more than anyone, knows how wicked cancer is and how much it destroys people … loved ones … families. Marco very seldom talks about Adela. It hurts him far too much. I get that.
For a few months after Uncle Genaro, Jasmine, and my son left me, I could not talk about them either. Casey helped. I encouraged Marco to talk with her, but he coped with it in his own ways. He dives. Seems to be good distraction for him. He loves the ocean.
Despite everything we have experienced as adults, our childhood was amazing. We were lucky growing up, our group … our friends, we were different. Carefree, outgoing, adventurous, and well thought of by the older community.
Boy did they love us. Our manners, charm, and willingness to help, learn, and embrace the life the Tuscan natives set before us made us very popular.
We lived our dream.
I remember Savio having two friends, geeky guys who went on to do computing in later years. Not sure if he even keeps in touch with them. Armando … he was continually grounded, in trouble, forever in detention, and making apologies.