by Prosecco
‘He’s been sad?’
‘He’s been working hard. Never seen a man so dedicated. The grapes and the wine and the shop and his studies. But not like before, not doing it with anger. He does it now because it makes him feel good. It has been good for him, to be home. Like it was good for you to be away.’ His light eyes twinkled and he patted my knee twice.
‘So, he’s settled down here, now?’
Antonio nodded thoughtfully. ‘He’s enjoying being home, yes.’
‘But…’ I paused as I wondered how to say it.
‘You’re wondering if a handsome young man is sitting around waiting, hoping you’ll come back? Or if he’s fallen for a local girl, and all is back to normal?’ Antonio smiled wryly. ‘Well, I had to fight about coming tonight, stubborn fool that he is.’
My heart leapt again. ‘He’s here?’
‘Parking the car.’ He pointed behind him. ‘It’s a slow walk up. Maybe go and see that he hasn’t collapsed with exhaustion.’
There was mischief in those eyes, but I couldn’t help myself. I tightened my grip on the little silver bag over my shoulder, and ran a hand over my hair. I’d let it grow even longer these last few months, even though the sand and the mud made me threaten to chop it off every day. My dress was a deep blue, swishing pleasantly as I concentrated on the cobblestones. My heels weren’t high, but they were still dangerous. What had I been thinking?
Nearly at the entrance to the castle, I paused, leaning against the gateway to take off my heels, smiling at other wedding guests as they entered.
And there he was, standing on the bridge, staring out at the ocean. The sun was just above the sea, hovering, and everything had a slow purple hue to it. Even just seeing the shape of him, staring away from me, made my chest constrict. What was this? Something based on arguments, and laughter and a few kisses while acting like tourists? Or secrets told and dreams shared, memories held safe for each other. It was nonsensical, and yet undeniable. I was my mother’s daughter.
When Salvatore turned towards me, it was like he wasn’t expecting it. His eyes drank me in and I was sure I was doing the same. I walked slowly towards him, drawn like a magnet, but staying out of arm’s reach. At least until we knew where we stood. Like Antonio said, he was an island boy now.
‘It’s good to see you.’ I smiled at him, focusing my gaze somewhere around his chin, only sneaking looks up at his eyes briefly, before flittering away. Not me at all. Damn. Get a grip.
‘You look beautiful,’ he said, and paused. ‘And happy. You look happy.’
‘Playing in the dirt will do that to a girl. I think I’ll never get the mud from under my fingernails.’ I laughed awkwardly. I could hear Savvy in my head sighing, When did you become the awkward one? Dirty fingernails?
‘I felt the same during the grape harvest. It was good fun, being in nature, being part of it all, instead of in an office, or on a computer.’
The silence settled and I asked the question. ‘Do you know what you’re doing now? Where you’ll go?’
He shook his head. ‘I’ve been working on qualifications. Making sure I can practise law in different places. I think I will go back to it. I want to help people. I just… haven’t decided where yet.’
I nodded, wondering whether I could just launch myself at him and let that do the talking.
‘What about you, now you’ve done your dig… you got another adventure planned?’
‘Nothing planned.’ I shook my head, looking past him to the little boats bobbing in the distance. ‘I want more adventures, though, lots of them.’
‘I see.’
‘It’s just… it was lonely. Having adventures by myself.’ I didn’t meet his eyes, but I moved closer. ‘No one to argue with about pointless things, no one to point out what cheap, rubbish wine I was drinking, or how stubborn I was… I mean, what’s an adventure without all that?’
His smile erupted and I’d never seen anything so wonderful. ‘Not much of an adventure at all. Have you got any ideas at all where you want to go or what you want to do?’
‘Absolutely none,’ I said. ‘Come with me?’
His lips were on mine before I could move, and I remember feeling that same scared feeling I’d had when I’d first stepped off the plane – that my world was going to irrevocably change, and that everything was out of my control. But this time I revelled in it.
It wasn’t until later, when we were swaying against each other to the wedding band, looking out over the island, surrounded by other couples who had much more straightforward romances than ours, that I realized I hadn’t made it clear.
‘I forgot to give you your present!’ I said, reaching into my handbag for a small wrapped cellophane package, tied up with ribbon.
Salvatore frowned, wriggling his hand into the packaging and pulling out a small chocolate piece. At my urging, he bit into it.
‘What is that?’ He crunched down, his frown softening as he realized.
‘Chocolate-covered coffee beans. One for every morning that I wasn’t here to bring you coffee,’ I said simply.
He had been right, of course: that’s what love was. Simple and straightforward and mind-bending and frustrating. I wanted to bring that man a coffee every morning for the rest of my life, and sit next to him as we talked about our day and wondered what our lives would bring. The simplest test of love.
The smile on his face was brighter than anything I’d ever seen. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed me, in front of our friends, family and the rest of the village.
Nikki whooped and clapped from the top table.
As the sun gave way to darkness, and the stars speckled across the sky above a crashing ocean, I took my glass of limoncello and raised it to the sea. The tide took out what I’d lost and brought back what I’d found.
Family, history, passion, love.
Everything was going to be okay, that was what my father had said. He was absolutely right. But even more than that, it was going to be an adventure.
Cocktail Recipe: What happened in Naples
1/2 shot limoncello
6 raspberries
1/2 shot rhubarb liqueur
125ml prosecco
1 piece of lemon rind, as garnish
Makes one cocktail
Pour the shot of limoncello into a Champagne flute or coupe, swirling it around to coat the inside of the glass. Tip away any excess.
Smash the raspberries in a cocktail shaker, then add the rhubarb liqueur and top with ice. Shake to the tune of ‘Mambo Italiano’.
Pour into the prepared flute or coupe and top with prosecco.
Garnish with sliver of lemon rind.
Acknowledgements
With thanks to the Cooperativa La Paranza, Naples, who have not only done inspiring work in revealing and sharing the catacombs of San Gennaro but who have provided many jobs in an area of Italy where there are few. Thank you for the inspiration.
Thanks as always to my partner, who was dragged around Ischia on the stormiest, rainiest day in existence in the name of research, and the family and writer friends who have heard this story over and over whilst I was working it all out.
Huge thanks to my excellent editor Louise Cullen and the wonderful team at Canelo for helping me to share Mia’s story with you in the best way possible.
The Martini Club Series
All the ingredients for a perfect romance…
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Cocktails and Dreams
Martinis and Memories
Prosecco and Promises
First published in the United Kingdom in 2018 by Canelo
Canelo Digital Publishing Limited
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Copyright © A. L. Michael, 2018
The moral right of A. L. Michael to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights
reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781911591313
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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