by Alexa Land
“That’s awesome. Who was the guy?”
I shrugged and said, “I never knew his name. We met here, talked for a few minutes, and he kissed me. Then I went back to my family and never saw him again.”
“Looks like you never forgot him, either.”
I shook my head. “One conversation and a kiss, and he made himself totally unforgettable.”
“He must have really been something.”
I said, “Have you ever met someone who felt totally right from the very beginning? That’s how he felt.”
“I never have. I’d love to find that.”
“You will.”
“I need to go back to bed now that I know you’re alright,” he said. “This jetlag’s kicking my ass.” I got up, held my hand out to Jessie and pulled him to his feet. Dawn was breaking, and a couple delivery trucks rattled into the square.
Once we were back in the hotel, I returned to my balcony for a few minutes and watched the piazza slowly wake up. The baker slid racks of fresh bread into a delivery van, while another man unloaded produce from the back of an old, blue pickup at the farmer’s market. A woman came outside and began sweeping in front of her restaurant, and a tall man in a dark suit left the hotel and crossed the plaza. He reached the café just as the lights came on inside, went into the building and came out a couple minutes later with a white paper cup in his hand. I expected him to hurry off to work, but instead, he stood beside the fountain and watched it while he drank his coffee. Right before he finally turned and walked away, I could have sworn he said goodbye to the statues in the fountain’s center. That made me happy. It was nice to know I wasn’t the only crazy person out there.
*****
I managed to fall back asleep for a few more hours. When I awoke a second time, I was lucid enough to be disgusted by the fact that I still smelled like bacon. I stripped myself completely, leaving my only outfit on the bed, and went into my bathroom to take a very long shower.
As I stood under the warm water and scrubbed myself with a washcloth, the bathroom door burst open and my grandmother yelled, “Are you alone in there, Nico?”
I covered my genitals with the washcloth, just in case she decided to throw back the shower curtain, and said, “Of course.” When would I have had time to pick someone up?
“I’m going to take Jessie sightseeing. You want to come along?”
“No thanks. I’m still pretty tired and think I’m going to take it easy today.”
“Alright, Nicky. Don’t spend all your time studying though, you hear? You’re on vacation, remember that!”
“I’d actually like to go for a swim since I’m stiff from that long plane ride. My luggage hasn’t shown up yet, has it?” I called over the running water.
“Not yet, but don’t you worry about that,” Nana said. “Jessie and I went out and did some shopping for you. I know you like to swim so I bought you a bathing suit, along with a couple outfits.”
“Thanks, but you didn’t have to do that, Nana.” Knowing my grandmother, I could only imagine what she’d picked out for me.
“I know, but it was fun. I’ll drop your lubed-up stuff at the cleaners, we’ll be going right by there. Have a good day, Nicky, and remember: no studying!”
“Nana, wait,” I called after her, but she’d already shut the door. I quickly rinsed the shampoo from my hair, then turned off the shower and hopped out. As soon as I wrapped a towel around my hips, I went after her, but she was long gone. I returned to my bedroom, a sense of doom building as I shook the contents of two shopping bags onto my mattress. “Holy crap,” I muttered.
It was all so much worse than I’d imagined. Everything was tight, shiny, sheer, made of leather, or some combination of those elements. I picked up a scrap of fabric and stared in horror at the tiny, lime green Speedo. “Oh my God, seriously?” I said out loud. The only pair of pants were black leather. There were a couple tiny pairs of white shorts, too, which Nana must have found in the missy petite section, and a few stretchy t-shirts that looked like they’d fit a child. I was surprised when I read the label and learned they were actually the European equivalent of my size. Apparently they were intended to look painted on.
Since Nana had taken my only outfit with her and I had no other alternatives, I was stuck with the Italian Gigolo collection. I picked up a pair of underwear and actually blushed. My grandmother had bought me sheer, tiny, black briefs. Wow, no. I rejected them in favor of an equally tiny red pair, which at least were opaque, and shimmied into them. I then tore the tag from a black t-shirt and stuffed myself into it. The shirt fit like a sausage casing. I debated between the leather pants and the short-shorts, and finally settled on the pants so my butt wouldn’t be on full display. “I stand corrected,” I murmured when I finally got the tight pants on and pivoted to look at myself from all angles in the full-length mirror. I then searched for my shoes, which turned out to be under the bed. Reaching them was super awkward since I couldn’t really bend my legs, and I ended up flinging myself on the floor and sort of rolling after them. It took me another couple minutes to stand up again.
I looked in the mirror once more and raised an eyebrow at my reflection. I didn’t think it was possible to look any less like myself. I finger-combed my damp hair, then searched for my wallet so I could go and buy myself something more modest. But I soon realized my wallet had been in my pants pocket, and it had been whisked away with everything else.
I tried to call both Nana and Jessie. Their phones went straight to voicemail, so I left messages asking them to bring back my wallet. Fortunately, I had a few euro in my backpack and was in desperate need of coffee, so I resigned myself to being seen in public in that outfit. After I took out a few things I wouldn’t be needing, I slung the pack over my shoulder. It actually required a bit of effort to work my thin, plastic room key into the pocket of those incredibly tight pants.
The leather made noise when I walked, something like reek, reek, reek. As if it wasn’t bad enough that I was stiff-legged and walking a bit like a robot. The sound was so loud that people in the lobby turned to look at me. All I could do was hold my head up and own it, even though I was mortified.
I left the hotel, crossed the plaza, and bought myself a cappuccino at the café, reducing my current net worth by fifty percent. Since it was a beautiful day, I decided to sit outside. A dozen little metal tables were arranged beneath a wooden pergola, and I settled in at the one closest to the fountain with my legs sticking straight out.
Even though I’d told my grandmother I wasn’t going to study, I decided to sneak in a little research to get a jump on a term project for the following semester and fired up my laptop. It was challenging to focus on the dry legal document on my screen, and I kept glancing up at the activity in the town square. Tourists meandered around and posed for pictures at the fountain while locals went about their business. A couple dogs were wandering through the piazza, and soon a few more joined them. While it was common to see dogs off-leash in Viladembursa, it started to seem like they were forming a pack. Some were probably strays, but the rest looked like pets. I spotted a big poodle and a dachshund in the mix.
I soon became aware of a strong smell in the air. Apparently someone was cooking bacon, and lots of it. I glanced around but couldn’t spot the source of the aroma, so I went back to trying to concentrate on my computer screen.
That lasted about three seconds before an incredibly good-looking guy caught my eye. He was absolutely flawless, from the dark, expensive suit that had obviously been custom-made to hug every inch of his tall, muscular body, to his thick, black hair and sexy five o’clock shadow. Mercy.
He was reading something on his phone, so he didn’t notice me staring. After a moment, I realized he was the same man who’d stood at the fountain early that morning, potentially speaking to the statues. That made me grin. He walked right past me on his way into the café, without glancing up from his phone. I pivoted in my seat and took in the rear-view, just because it was too tempting not to. W
hen I swung back around, I caught the disapproving glare of a woman at the next table. I frowned and turned my attention back to the computer screen.
The bacon scent was stronger than ever. I leaned in and sniffed my laptop, and suddenly realized that was the source of the smell. When I picked it up and tilted it to look underneath, a stream of lube drizzled onto my pants. Apparently a fair amount had gotten into the vents on the bottom of the computer, and as the PC heated up, it both intensified the odor and liquefied the lubricant.
I was startled when a little brown dog jumped up on his hind legs and put his front paws on my knee. “Hi there, puppy. You need to get down,” I told him, gently trying to lift him off me.
In the next instant, I was swarmed by about a dozen dogs. I yelped and leapt up, grabbing my computer and backpack and trying to hold them over my head, out of dog range. All of them were way too interested in my bacon-scented leather pants. The big poodle grabbed my pant leg and started tugging, and I shoved my laptop into my backpack and slung it over my shoulder to free up my hands. I tried to pull the poodle off me by his collar, but that didn’t deter him in the slightest. “No! Down! Sit!” I yelled as the dogs almost knocked me over. It didn’t help.
In a moment of panic, I scrambled awkwardly onto the table. The larger animals could still reach me easily, including the white poodle, and two dogs grabbed my cuffs with their teeth and started to tug, as if I was a wishbone. “No! Bad dog,” I yelled. That, of course, did absolutely nothing.
I grabbed the edge of the pergola and tried to hoist myself up, but the dogs were determined to pull me back down so they could eat my pants. Both my loafers fell off at about the same time, and immediately became doggie chew toys. I hung from the pergola with one hand, and used my other to unbutton the pants and pull down the zipper. As soon as I did that, the poodle and his cohort shucked the pants right off me.
Apparently I still seemed appealing though, since the dogs didn’t lose interest in me after their pants victory. They barked happily and jumped at me like I was a giant steak, and I tried to swing my feet up onto the wooden framework above me. A big, brown mutt jumped onto the table, lapped up my cappuccino, and lunged at my dangling backside. I had to arch up to get out of range.
Just as I started to lose my grip, a crashing sound behind me sent all the dogs running. I lowered my feet to the tabletop and watched their retreat. The pants were stretched between the poodle and the dachshund as they dashed from the plaza, the cuffs grasped firmly in their jaws. Apparently my loafers had been carried off as well, since they were nowhere to be seen.
I looked down at myself and realized I’d been left with just that tight t-shirt and the tiny red briefs. I was beyond embarrassed as I jumped off the table and turned to see what had startled the dogs. The incredibly good-looking guy in the suit stood a few feet behind me, holding a couple big pots, which he must have banged together. His light eyes were sparkling with amusement as he asked, “You okay?” He spoke English, though he really looked Italian.
“I’m awesome, and I’ll be even better after the earth opens up and swallows me whole.” I turned and started to hurry across the plaza, the smooth cobblestones warm beneath my bare feet. The guy fell into step with me, and I asked, “What are you doing?”
“Acting as your armed escort, in case the dogs come back.” He twirled one of the pots to illustrate his point.
“Thanks for the assist, since I assume you’re what scared them away.”
“You’re welcome.” When we reached the hotel, he walked me right up to the big door. The doorman opened it for me and managed to maintain a poker face as he glanced at my tiny red underpants, then directed his gaze heavenward.
“There we go. Safe and sound,” the guy in the suit said.
“Thanks again.”
“My pleasure. It’s not every day I meet someone with that much animal magnetism.” I hazarded a quick glance at him. I had to look up, even though I was over six feet tall. He had a good two or three inches on me. Amusement still danced in his eyes and I looked away quickly. The fact that he was so attractive just made it that much more embarrassing, for some reason.
I blurted, “It was the bacon-flavored anal lube. My grandmother hosed me down with it at the airport yesterday, and it got in my computer.” I immediately realized my explanation sounded completely insane, and retreated into the hotel before I could say anything else.
I glanced at him over my shoulder when I was partway across the lobby. He still stood in the open doorway with his arms crossed over his chest and a pot in each hand. He was blatantly staring at my ass, and when he saw me looking, he called, “Red’s a good color on you.” I was grinning just a little when I reached the elevators.
When I got to my suite, I realized my room key had been in my leather pants, so I had to go back downstairs to get another one. Since I’d left my passport in the room and my other ID was in my missing wallet, the desk clerk wouldn’t give me a key. I ended up dropping into an upholstered chair in the lobby to wait for my grandmother and Jessie. When I tried calling them again, it went straight to voicemail. I slid down in my seat and put my bare feet up on the coffee table in front of me. An upscale couple in their twenties stared at me, so I gave them a little wave and called, “Bel giorno.”
Ugh. This day was going great. I shut my eyes and leaned my head against the back of the chair. On the bright side, I was over six thousand miles from home, so I wouldn’t run into anyone I knew while I was dressed like that.
“Nico?”
My eyes flew open and I blinked at my cousin Remy. Technically, we were second or third cousins, or something like that, but just went with ‘cousins’ for simplicity’s sake. I had a lot of relatives who fell under that title, both in Italy and back home. Remy’s grandmother and mine were sisters. Nana’s family had immigrated to the U.S. when she was a girl, but two of her sisters had moved back as adults because they both fell in love with Italian men. All the sisters had had fairly large families and plenty of grandchildren.
Remy was in his late twenties with short, dark hair and a tidy beard. He was a stay-at-home dad, and his wife was a pediatrician. He was wearing his youngest child like an accessory in some sort of carrier that was strapped to his torso. The baby blinked at me and gave me a toothless smile. “Hey,” I said, getting up to shake Remy’s hand. I then ran a palm over the baby’s bald head and said, “Hi there, RJ.” The baby just blinked again.
“Wow. This, um…what are you wearing?” Even though he’d been born in Viladembursa, Remy’s English was flawless. Almost everyone in my family was perfectly bilingual.
“I didn’t go out like this. My leather pants smelled like bacon, so they were carried off by a pack of dogs with a poodle as their ringleader. Now I’m locked out of my suite, because they also took my room key. It was in my pocket.”
“So…you were mugged by a poodle?”
“Basically.” I sat back down, and Remy took the chair next to mine, setting a bulging diaper bag on the floor. “I didn’t know you’d be stopping by,” I said, trying to change the subject. “I thought we were meeting at your grandmother’s house for dinner.”
“That’s why I’m here. Nonna sent me to make sure you’re all coming tonight. She’s bent out of shape because your grandmother wanted to stay in a hotel instead of her house.”
“They talked about this. Nana and Nonna make each other crazy, and they know that, so I thought everyone was on the same page about us staying in a hotel.”
He shrugged and crossed his sneaker-clad foot over his knee as he leaned back in the chair. “You know how it goes, Nonna loves to stir up drama. Just tell me you’ll all be there. My grandmother feels like she has something to prove since your grandmother is a big-shot TV chef, and has been cooking since daybreak.”
“We’ll definitely be there. Nana just has a cable TV cooking show, by the way. I think the only reason anyone watches it is to see if anything explodes, and to count how many times she drops the f-bomb.�
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The baby started to fuss, and Remy produced a toy out of nowhere with Ninja-like speed. That calmed his son instantly. “Nonna thinks her sister is the next Julia Child.”
“Not so much. She is a terrific cook, but somehow when she gets in front of the camera, everything sort of spirals out of control.” I sat up a bit and craned my neck as the handsome guy in the suit entered the hotel lobby, white paper coffee cup in hand.
He went to the bank of elevators and pushed the button, then scanned the lobby idly as he waited. When he spotted me, a big smile appeared on his face, and he called, “I’m glad to see you’re sticking with the tiny underpants. Not everyone can pull off that look.” That made a few heads swivel in my direction.
“Thank you,” I called. “Underwear as outerwear is all the rage in the states right now, and this pair is really quite conservative by most standards. I could have gone with a mesh thong, but I’m all about keeping it classy.” The guy chuckled as he got on the elevator.
“Who was that?” Remy asked as the elevator doors slid shut.
“No clue. He witnessed the bacon pants incident and chased the dogs away with some cookware.”
My cousin looked amused. “I don’t remember you being quite this colorful. When I visited you in San Francisco last year, you seemed….”
“Painfully dull?”
“I was going to say depressed. I think you were still reeling from that break-up. I’m glad to see you’ve put it behind you.” I didn’t bother pointing out that I hadn’t even sort of done that.
Remy and I visited for a few minutes, until a pair of desk clerks approached us and told me in accented and somewhat stilted English, “Sir, we have had some complaints from the other guests. May we offer you some assistance in adjusting your wardrobe?” Since the staff suddenly had a vested interest in helping me, it was easy to convince them to issue a new room key.
Once we got upstairs, my cousin turned the baby loose in the suite while I pulled on some shorts. Both pairs were white, tight and fairly sheer, so the red underwear was still very much on display. I went back into the living room, where Remy was following the baby around and moving anything potentially hazardous out of his way. My cousin glanced at me and said, “That’s a big departure from your usual khakis and oxford shirts. Are you trying out a new image?”