It’s my first day off since starting at Stella’s and I’m ready to explore the streets of Rome. I throw on a pair of skinny jeans, brown riding boots, and a purple button-up blouse. I leave my curly hair down long; it’s a change from always keeping it tied up for work.
I wave to my neighbor in the hall, a small woman who reminds me of my own grandmother. I don’t really have a plan; I’ll just see where the day takes me. I start at the Coliseum. After waiting in line for about 20 minutes, I enter what is one of history’s finest wonders.
After spending hours exploring the Coliseum, I head over to a bar for a quick lunch. As I eat my four-cheese pizza out on the piazza, I see a tabloid paper on the table next to me. I reach out and grab it. I’m glad I took four years of Italian in college; it makes reading this rag mag much easier. The front page has four housewives of Roma with big black hair, short dresses, and stilettos. I turn the page, and there he is! It’s like he’s lurking behind every corner.
“Roma’s Most Eligible Bachelor Dates Supermodel Gabriella Rossi” reads the headline.
She’s freakin’ beautiful—tall, perfect olive skin, perfect white teeth, perfect slim body … perfect everything. I bet he calls her ‘bella’ while she rides him in bed. Ugh. I think I’m going to throw up. Gabriella Rossi, you drop dead gorgeous bitch. #Hater
I can’t finish my pizza after seeing their picture, so I throw it out and then head towards the Trevi Fountain. It’s late in the afternoon now, and more tourists are filling up the streets. I walk past men shouting about buying their stolen purses atop of blankets. They let me pass without trying to sell to me; they must know I’m a woman on a mission.
As I reach the Trevi Fountain, I pick a less crowded spot to stand. I dig in my black leather Coach purse for a coin to toss inside. As I’m searching, a young happy couple stands right next to me. They’re holding hands and can’t stop kissing each other. Of course they’d decide to stand next to the girl with all the bad luck when it comes to love. This day keeps getting better and better!
Found it! I pick up a coin, turn around, think long and hard about my wish, and toss it into the fountain over my shoulder.
I wish for true head-over-heels love and a death-do-us-part marriage!
Are you kidding me? How did that thought pop out? I didn’t even know it was buried inside me. When did I become this girl? Throwing coins in a fountain wishing for love. Next I’m going to say I want world peace.
The couple next to me giggles between locking lips. Before I puke, I decide it’s time to head back to the flat.
As I turn on Via Passarelli, I see a limo outside my apartment complex. It definitely stands out in my quiet neighborhood because it takes up just about the entire street. I walk towards the front door and I hear a “Ciao, bella,” from behind me. I normally ignore Italian dudes that catcall but this limo has got me curious. I turn around, and it’s like my own version of Carrie’s Mr. Big from Sex and the City as Leonardo rolls down the limo window.
“Is that what you call all the girls?” I say, proud of my sarcasm.
“What are you doing? Let’s go for a ride,” he says as he opens the door.
A super-hot billionaire wants to hang out with me. Is this real life?
“I don’t really know you. How can I trust you aren’t looking to kidnap me? You know, I’ve seen Taken, I know how this works!”
“You can’t be serious. I promise I am the Liam Neeson of this movie. You don’t need to be worried.”
I laugh at his cheesy joke and step inside the limo, hoping that this ends up nothing like the thriller movie. Even though Liam Neeson is kind of a hot—for an old guy.
“How did you know where I lived?”
“I went to Stella’s to see you and Marco said it was your day off. I wanted to know if you’d like to spend it with me, so I may have convinced him to tell me where you live.”
“I’m definitely going to have to talk to Marco about this! You could be a lunatic!”
I leave my thoughts for just a second to realize I’m sitting so close to him I can smell his cologne—it’s a light mix of leather and clean soap. Everything about him draws me in. He’s wearing a blue and gray pinstripe three-piece business suit. He takes off his suit jacket and starts to roll up his sleeves, exposing his strong forearms.
I fidget in the seat and try not to make it too noticeable that I’ve been checking him out. I feel his eyes on me, watching my every move.
“Are you nervous?”
He certainly notices my fidgeting.
“Wouldn’t you be? Even though you say you are Liam Neeson, you’re practically a stranger to me.”
The limo looks like it’s circling the city, but I don’t have much time to notice our surroundings. The next thing I know, Leonardo’s hand is on my thigh. Instantly, I feel my skin heat up.
“Bella, are you seeing anyone?”
Is he seriously asking me this? The serial supermodel dater wants to know if I’m seeing anyone. Why does he care? He’s clearly seeing a lot of someones, and I’m not looking to be just another notch in a bedpost of a womanizer.
“That’s a little forward, even for an Italian.”
“You have experience with other Italians, cara?” he says, smirking a shit-eating grin at me.
“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t,” I say and wink at him. Where did this confidence come from? I’m definitely faking it. I’ve never been the assertive one or the flirt before.
“I see, you want to remain mysterious. I can let this slide ... for now. But soon you will be telling me your every desire. I will be your one and only Italian man.”
I let out a little laugh. This dude is too much. That was the corniest line ever, but I am extremely intrigued. I know I need to get the hell out of this limo. If he is interested in me, something must be up. I quickly scan through my unfortunate string of bad dates and loser boyfriends in my head. I’m not looking to add to the list.
“Elena, you are going to love it when we fuck.”
“Excuse me?”
Whoa. I thought for sure dirty talk would gross me out, but it’s surprisingly working for me. Did my panties just get a little wet?
“I am going to find out if those cherry red lips taste as sweet at they look.”
“Leonardo, I hope you don’t mind me calling you that. It’s cute that you think you can speak to me like this, but it won’t work. Also, I’m not sure if you noticed, but I’m not your type.”
“My type? What do you know about my type?”
I see the shadow of the head of the limo driver through the glass—he cranes his head a bit to the right to listen, I think.
“Well, the tabloids show you love to date supermodels. I, however, am not one of them. I work in a coffee shop, I’m about five-six and, as much as I would like to try, I love food way too much to be a rail-thin model. You will not see this girl on a runway.”
He doesn’t say a word, and just stares a smoldering stare and raises a brow. The next thing I know, his mouth crashes down on mine. I feel an immediate pull in my stomach and I can’t keep my hands off him. What is taking over me? I run my fingers through his thick hair and open my mouth, giving him enough room to stick in his tongue.
What am I doing? I am a good, nice girl. I do not make out with strangers.
“We need to stop!”
I can barely make out my own words. Am I crazy? This feels too good to stop but we have to before I let this go too far.
He wipes his mouth and I scoot a little farther away from him towards the limo window. I hope the distance can help me clear my spinning head. He stays quiet, but his emerald eyes smile at me. He knows he’s got me right where he wants me.
“We shouldn’t have done that. I don’t even know you.”
“We can stop … for now … but you know you are going to be mine. I know you want me too, Elena Scott.”
“You might have been able to get the things you wanted in the past easily, but I am not that easy to get.”
<
br /> “I’m not afraid of hard work,” he says, straightening out his light blue dress shirt.
The limo driver obviously was in on the plan—I notice we are conveniently pulling up outside my apartment building. I have never before been more excited to get out of a fancy limo and away from an extremely hot guy. The limo barely comes to a stop.
“I will see you tomorrow,” says Leonardo before I throw open the door, jump out of the limo, and run inside.
4
I wake up the next morning with a smile on my face. Was that all a dream yesterday? I still smell his musky cologne on my skin. I didn’t have the energy to shower last night after I finished myself off with my trusty vibrator. It definitely wasn’t a dream!
I tie my hair up and throw on some black yoga pants, a black sports bra, and a gray long-sleeve pullover. I need to hit something … and hard. I walk into the local piazza and ask a stranger for the nearest gym. There’s one not too far away, and I head towards my sweaty destination.
The gym looks like it’s mom-and-pop-owned, nothing too big or fancy: a row of cardio machines, two group exercise rooms, and some punching bags. The walls are pretty much bare except for mirrors and an occasional motivational poster. I appreciate the simplicity, no juice bars or personal trainers hyped-up on Red Bull chasing after people.
I sign up for a three-month pass and leave my bag in the locker room. It’s my lucky day! A kickboxing class is about to begin. I stand towards the back and wait to get started. A beautiful, tall, and toned blonde stands in the front wearing a headset microphone. She starts the music, and we begin to warm up. As the music blares and our punches fly, I feel amazing. All the tension I’ve built up since meeting Leonardo eases away, and I am transmitted to another place. This is my element.
Back in the states, I taught group exercise classes to put myself through college when I wasn’t working double shifts as a waitress.
The music is blaring, my punches and kicks are flying, and I let my muscles take over—they know what to do. The sweat pours, and I know I will be sore tomorrow, but I don’t ease up. I’m sexually frustrated after my short time with Leonardo and it feels good to just move my body.
When class ends, I walk back towards the showers.
“Sei veramente bravo,” the instructor says as she makes her way near me.
“Grazie,” I thank her for the compliment on my job well done.
“Are you Americana?”
“Is there a sign on my forehead or something?” I laugh. Just like Marco and Leonardo, she knows I don’t belong here.
“I’m not sure I understand?” She giggles but looks a little confused.
“Mi dispiace. I keep being greeted with the same question about being American.”
“Are you staying in Roma? I see you signed up for a pass.”
As we enter the locker room together, I let her know where I’m staying in Rome and that I will be here until who knows when. I did not book a return trip ticket. I’m not exactly running away from my life in Michigan. I have a great family and a great job; I was just ready for a fresh start and a little break from burnout.
I find out her name is Alessandra Palmetto and she’s an aspiring model. She grew up in a small town about 45 minutes outside of Rome and moved here after high school.
“I’m going out with some friends tonight for my birthday. You should come!”
Since Marco and Leonardo are the only people I know so far, I agree to go to her birthday party and jot down the information in my iPhone. The sweat fest is over, but now it’s time to head to work.
Marco is gathering his things to get ready to leave as I enter the caffé.
“Hey, boss! Off in a hurry?” I joke. Marco, the hardest-working man I know, can surely leave when his shift ends.
“No. Mi dispiace, Elena. I have an appointment with the bank in 30 minutes.”
“Are you ready? Do you want to role-play some questions with me or something? Tell me how I can help you.”
“You are too kind, Elena. You are doing more than enough to help with Stella’s—my nonna would have loved you! Wish me luck and take care of my baby while I’m at the big meeting.”
After Marco leaves I get down to work. Three or four customers enjoy their afternoon espresso as I clean up around the coffee shop. I want this place to look spotless when Marco gets back.
As I’m cleaning the espresso machine, I feel his eyes on me. How is it that I haven’t seen his face yet my body is on fire? I try to compose myself before turning around. I don’t want him to see how much I want him because I’m sure my need is written all over my face. Pull it together girlfriend.
“You missed a spot,” he says, pointing to the machine.
“Ha-ha, very funny. I thought only Americans had corny jokes like that.”
That gets a laugh out of him, a deep, sexy laugh.
“What can I get for you, sir?”
His eyes widen after I call him sir. Did I just catch Leonardo off guard? One point for me. He quickly pulls himself together and stands up a little straighter, wiping the smirk off his face. I feel a little excited to get a rise out of him.
“I’ll take whatever you recommend.”
After I make his caffé Americano, he takes a seat at one of the small tables near the back bookshelves and pulls out a laptop. Looks like he’s making himself comfy today.
I wait on a few more customers and, when no one else is in line, I head over to Leonardo’s table, bringing him a chocolate raspberry biscotti that Marco made before he left. He looks up at me with his emerald eyes, surprised.
“Grazie. Are you taking a break?” he asks while I take a seat at his table.
“When the boss is away, the employee will play,” I say laughing.
“I could think of a few fun ways to play.”
And just like that, my panties are instantly soaked. How does he do this to me every freakin’ time? It’s the way he growls his dirty phrases at me with that accent.
“None of that in my workplace, sir. What are you working on?” I ask, pointing at the computer and trying to change the subject.
“Just some boring proposals I need to review before a conference tomorrow morning.”
“Don’t you have a big fancy office somewhere you can review them in?”
“Of course I do, except I like it here. The company is rather … beautiful.”
“I’ll let the other customers know you think they are beautiful,” I say, laughing at compliment so I don’t blush. “So what’s the conference about?”
Leonardo looks deeply and confidently into my eyes before explaining his proposal—I see how he wins so many business deals. He’s magnetic.
“We are looking to expand into teaching dentists how to market their businesses on the Internet. It’s a new venture after working with so many other types of business and brands. Dentists here tend to be, how do you say vecchia scuola—old school in the way they market their businesses.”
“Can I see your proposal?”
My business senses flare up excitedly. I haven’t worked on a project since before I decided to ditch the States, and I try to remind myself not to let it show. You are taking a break Elena.
“Are you interested in marketing?” he says as he cocks his head out of curiosity. He turns his laptop in my direction.
It touches me that he’s willing to share his work. My former self would never have given a glimpse into her working world. Before I can answer his lingering question, I notice a customer approach the counter so I excuse myself and get back to work.
“Ciao, signora Lucca! Can I get you your usual?”
I start to make a caffé ristretto and chat with her; she’s one of my favorite customers. Signora Lucca is in her fifties and has three adult children who all live outside of Roma. I feel like she’s adopted me since I’ve started working here.
She leans over the counter as I ring her up.
“Elena, you have to meet my doctor. I think you would make a great
pair! He’s tall, smart, handsome, and extremely kind. I hope you don’t mind but I told him he should call the caffé and ask for you. His name is Carlo.”
I can’t believe that my customer is trying to hook me up.
“Grazie, signora Lucca, but I don’t think I’m ready to date. I’m just settling in Rome.”
“Honey, there is never a time when a beautiful woman like yourself is not ready to date. I’m just worried that Marco has you working too much and you aren’t allowing yourself time to enjoy the city! If I were your age, I’d be out with a different guy every night. Enjoy life while you are young.”
“Don’t worry, signora, I’m actually going out to a party tonight.”
“Bella! I’m happy to hear you are enjoying Roma. And don’t forget to thank me when you meet Carlo,” she says as she heads out of the caffé with her drink in hand.
I start to clean off the counters and sweep the floors when I notice Leonardo is the only customer left here. I head towards the closet to put my cleaning supplies away and feel the heat radiating off his masculine body behind me.
“Where are you going tonight, cara?” he whispers into my ear as he brushes my hair aside.
“I, uh, have a birthday party to go to for a new friend,” I say with my back still turned to him. I can’t concentrate with him standing behind me. I can’t let this get out of hand like in the limo. What I told Signora Lucca was correct—I’m not ready to date anyone.
He nuzzles his nose into my neck. Did he just smell my hair? I’m thanking myself for using the vanilla shampoo and conditioner after the gym.
“Is this friend a girl … or a guy?” he asks as he gently licks my neck. My brain feels like it’s on a rollercoaster. His lick reaches my core and I feel a pull in my stomach. I lean back into his buff chest and let out a small moan. With one lick he has me falling apart.
“Answer me,” he demands as he gently runs his fingertips up my arms. I’m getting goose bumps from his touch.
“A girl,” I whisper.
My Mr. Beautiful: Eternal City Love, Book 1 Page 2