‘You’ll do that for me?’ Alaina wiped her face.
Carly sighed. Spending the day with Alaina was just about the last thing she wanted to do besides running naked through the streets. ‘What are aria buddies for?’
Chapter Thirteen
Experiments
The ride to Florence from Rome combined three hours of Al’s lame jokes with listening to the trombonist complain about missing all the green pigs in Angry Birds. Carly checked e-mails, but not as religiously as she had done before. Her eyes kept wandering to the front of the bus, where Michelangelo bared the brunt of Alaina’s whining about her bad review.
We’ll fix that. They had rehearsed until her hands ached, going through three different reeds until they picked a slower tempo and a gentler dynamic. Carly had coached Alaina on singing in a lighter and more carefree style. Love was all about bonbons and roses, wasn’t it? This time they’d have it down. No more bad reviews.
The bus entered the streets of Florence, a smaller, quieter city than Rome. Orange-red tiles covered most of the rooftops, contrasting with the white stucco and stone buildings. As Carly spotted the famous dome of Florence’s Duomo, and the site of their next concert, her heart picked up speed.
Michelangelo stood and turned on the intercom. ‘Florence is the capital city of the region of Tuscany and the province of Florence. It is considered the birthplace of the Renaissance. It was politically, economically, and culturally one of the most important cities in Europe and the world from the fourteenth to the sixteenth century.’
Alaina tugged on his coat and he abandoned the microphone to talk with her.
Carly sat back in her seat, trying to picture what life was like back when horse-drawn carriages rode the streets, and famous painters like Leonardo, Donatello, Michelangelo—and whoever the fourth Ninja Turtle was—were commissioned to decorate the basilicas they now performed in.
Their bus pulled up beside the massive, white-arched façade of the cathedral, towering so high Carly had to crick her neck to see the top. White, red, and green marble highlighted the geometrical shapes and flower-like decorations.
Michelangelo waved Alaina away, and took up the mic once again. ‘Santa Maria del Fiore was built on the site of an earlier cathedral dedicated to Saint Reparata. The ancient building was founded in the fifth century. After undergoing many repairs, Arnolfo di Cambio designed a new church. The first stage of the project would last one hundred and forty years and become the collective effort of several generations. The three great bronze doors depict scenes from the life of Madonna.’
‘That looks nothing like Madonna.’ Al punched Carly’s arm. ‘Where’s the cone-shaped brassiere?’
Carly shook her head and hid her face in her hands. Sure the Ninja Turtles helped her remember the Italian painter’s names, but she wouldn’t announce her ignorance to the whole bus.
As the other orchestra members filed off the bus, she took her time, wanting to get a chance to talk with Michelangelo on the way in. She had to warm up for her concert, but just one more thank you for helping her with her gig was in order. As she neared the front of the bus, she thought of all the ways to thank him again without appearing too desperate or tipping off the other orchestra members. She settled on thanks for all you’ve done so far.
Al walked ahead of her, and as he passed Michelangelo he clapped him on the back. ‘Heard about what happened with the girl. Nice save, dude.’
‘Thank you.’ Michelangelo smiled tightly, then returned to helping people with their bags. Carly wondered if he’d heard Al’s sacrilegious comments from the back of the bus.
Al, as always, didn’t take the hint. ‘Man, you’ve gotten lucky with the ladies. That Alaina chick is damn hot.’
Michelangelo stiffened. ‘I’m not sure what you mean.’
So everyone thinks he’s with Alaina? A jealous volcanic eruption went off in Carly’s chest. She pushed it down reminding herself it didn’t matter because she didn’t want an Italian fling.
Al gave him a thumbs-up and grabbed his bag.
Carly froze. After that, she didn’t know what to say to Michelangelo. Another thank you would seem like she was trying to make up for what Al had said, or negate it.
Alaina wailed from outside the bus. ‘Oh Michelangelo, I need help with my dress bag!’
‘Of course.’ Michelangelo ran down the steps to help her, leaving Carly alone with Edda.
Carly bristled, digging her nails into her oboe case. Had he ever seen her getting off?
‘She’s a whiny one, that girl.’ Edda shook her head. ‘Not his type.’
Carly remembered how Edda had blocked his car so she could get in without being noticed. ‘Do you know Michelangelo well?’
She took a sip of her water bottle. ‘Well enough to know when he likes someone.’ She winked at Carly. ‘And when he doesn’t.’ Edda narrowed her eyes as she glanced toward Alaina’s curvy butt as she bent down to pick one of her bags off the ground.
Carly’s cheeks grew hot. She grabbed her bag. Was Edda fishing for her reaction? Any comment would give too much away.
‘Good luck at your concert.’ Edda waved.
Carly turned back and half smiled, half sighed. ‘Thanks. I’m gonna need it.’
Gorgeous mosaic floors sprawled before her in dizzying symmetrical patterns as she entered the cathedral. Her heels clicked, echoing up into the high arched ceilings. No note would go unheard.
Chairs were set up for the orchestra in the main area before the altar. As each player settled in, assembling their instruments, Carly heard a strange whistle from behind.
Michelangelo stood behind a stone column, where only the people entering the church could see him. He gave her a burning come hither look and walked back outside to the square.
Carly cast another look at her open principal oboe seat. She needed time to warm up. But a growing desire flamed inside her. She couldn’t possibly play the entire concert wondering what he wanted to say.
Making sure no one noticed, she slipped out of the bronze doors. Michelangelo leaned against the façade, waiting for her.
Her heart beating wildly, she approached him. ‘You wanted to talk to me?’
His eyes traveled the length of her body, then returned to settle into hers. ‘I want you to know I’m not with Alaina.’
Carly shrugged trying to look nonchalant. ‘It’s your business who you’re with.’
He grabbed her hand, his skin hot and fiery. ‘What if I wanted it to be your business?’
Carly reeled, the square swam before her. She was in Florence, and a gorgeous Italian hottie had nearly come out and said he was into her. The old Carly would have brushed it off, more interested in the gig, but the new her couldn’t seem to pull away. Is this really happening?
She had to be sure she heard him right. It wasn’t every day someone said something to her straight off the pages of a romance novel. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I keep thinking of the time we’ve spent together and I need more. I want to get to know you better.’
Carly swallowed a lump in her throat. She felt exactly the same way, but she wasn’t about to announce it to him. She dropped his hand and crossed her arms. ‘Why?’
Michelangelo sighed. He looked as though he struggled to find the right words. For a smooth Italian hottie, his turmoil over her made him even sexier. ‘Because I haven’t been able to enjoy myself in a long time, and when I’m with you, I enjoy every minute.’
Was this for real? Or was he sputtering out nonsense just to get her in bed? Carly narrowed her eyes. ‘Seems a guy like you could enjoy himself quite a bit in such a beautiful country.’
His gaze faltered as if he was holding back. ‘My life hasn’t been all rosy Zinfandels and rich Merlots.’
She pretended to be bored, when every ounce of her being wanted to know more. ‘You’ve told me how stressful it is to work in a winery.’
He shook his head and put both hands on her shoulders. ‘It’s so much more t
han that—there’s so much I need to tell you. Meet me by the rose vase tonight at the Renaissance banquet.’
Carly froze. Did she really intend to go through with this? Think, Carly, think. Where would this lead? To another ‘experiment’? Did she really want that distraction?
He kissed the back of her hand. ‘Please?’
Okay, yes, she did. But could she afford a distraction such as this? Was it really worth it?
He still puzzled her, and she wanted to know more about him. Looking into his pleading amber-blue eyes, she found it hard to say no, both to him and to her. A girl’s gotta have some fun.
‘Okay.’
Before she could swallow the fact she’d just agreed to a secret meeting that wasn’t a gig request, Michelangelo bowed his head and ran back to the bus. She checked her watch. The concert started in twenty minutes. Man, he was sly. She had no time to run after him and change her mind.
*****
Michelangelo reached the bus breathless with the sweet scent of Carly’s skin still on his mind. After Al’s comment about Alaina, he had to do something or he’d lose Carly after he’d worked so hard to win her over.
He had no idea what he was going to say or do at the rose vase, but he had four hours to come up with something. He might just have to trust her and tell her the truth.
Edda teased him with a smile as he got on. ‘Had to talk to her again, didn’t you?’
He crossed his arms, even though he kinda liked having a mom again. It had been a while since anyone cared about his love life. ‘Don’t you have other things to do, like check the traffic?’
Edda glanced at her GPS, where she’d taped a picture of her grandson riding a little red train. He had her kind, brown eyes. ‘Traffic looks good.’
‘Then, let’s get to the banquet hall. I have a lot of preparations to make.’
‘Si, signore.’ Edda turned on the engine and Michelangelo took his seat. Strangely enough, his eyes kept wandering to the back of the bus, where Carly had sat. He already saw Al as a rival, so the man’s comment about Alaina really irked him. Michelangelo had seen Al make Carly laugh a few times on the way over. Tonight he’d have to do better.
Edda pulled up to the Rosa Rossa hotel, where the orchestra would stay for the night. ‘Last stop.’ She called over her shoulder.
Michelangelo stood. ‘Thanks. Do you think you can pick them up and bring them here without me so I can ensure the banquet goes as planned?’ Not only did he need to help with the decorations and oversee the Renaissance-inspired food, he also didn’t have the patience to listen to Alaina for another twenty minutes.
‘Will do.’ Edda turned on the radio to Frank Sinatra singing about accidents and love and winked. ‘I like to listen to the oldies when no one’s around.’
‘You listen to whatever you want, signora.’ Wondering what he’d do without her, he kissed her cheek, then stepped off the bus.
The Renaissance Esperienza touring company was already unloading their trucks of fine fifteenth- and sixteenth-century garments. Michelangelo had made sure to order enough costumes in all sizes. But now he had an idea for a very special one with Carly’s name on it…
Chapter Fourteen
Baroness
The concert flew by in a blur of noise. All Carly could think about was meeting Michelangelo at the Renaissance banquet near the mysterious ‘rose vase’. She looked for his alluring face in the audience, but this time she couldn’t find him. The aria with Alaina went smoothly, if not a little too smoothly, and she hoped they hadn’t overcompensated and underdone it this time. But there were other things to worry about. Like what exactly she planned to do with Michelangelo. Or what he planned to do with her…
Disappointment trickled through her as everyone took their seat on the bus and his lay empty. Alaina glanced around eagerly, then abandoned hope and stretched her legs over the seat. If Carly didn’t know any better, she would have thought the opera diva liked the spare room more than the hot guy. But Alaina couldn’t be so self-centered, could she?
The bus pulled up to the Rosa Rossa, a grand five-star hotel right on the River Arno, with roses frescoed onto the stucco walls. As the orchestra members exited the bus, a man in tights with a lute strapped across his back greeted them in Old Italian. Inside the hotel, his female counterpart stood before a rack of costumes for the evening’s festivities. Carly got into line, unsure if she liked this new development in the tour.
‘This is wonderful!’ Melody exclaimed from the front of the line. ‘Michelangelo has outdone himself this time!’
‘Full name, signorina.’ The lady in costume addressed Melody, holding a quill and a sheet of parchment.
‘Melody Mires.’
Wolf leaned in, ‘Soon to be Melody Braun.’
Melody giggled and Carly squeezed her friend’s arm as a tinge of melancholy swept through her. Already, it’s begun.
The Renaissance woman gave Melody a light-blue high-waisted gown with a silver-threaded bodice.
‘It’s gorgeous, thank you!’ Melody waited for Wolf as he got his own set of leggings and a tailored coat, and the line moved up.
It will be just my luck that my dress is probably hideous, with little pink puffed sleeves and enough stuffing to make my butt look like a tent.
‘Name, mio caro.’ The woman smiled at Carly like a candy-shop owner to a five-year-old.
‘Carly Davis.’ She tried not to wince.
‘Carly Davis?’ The woman’s eyes brightened. ‘Boy do I have something in store for you, courtesy of Michelangelo, of course.’ She turned to the rack, shifting through the outfits. ‘You are going to be a Baroness tonight.’
‘A Baroness? Are you sure?’ Was this good or bad?
‘Certamente!’ The woman pulled out a silken gown of scarlet fabric, embroidered in thick ribbons of gold. Long, bell-shaped sleeves draped to the floor. The outfit came complete with a bejeweled, feathered headpiece.
‘My goodness.’ Either she’d look majestically glorious or completely ridiculous. She hoped it wasn’t the latter.
‘I hope mine is that good,’ Alaina muttered behind her.
Carly took the dress and walked to the elevator, pressing the number for her floor. She held the fabric up, admiring the hand-stitched work. Michelangelo had requested this dress for her. No matter how she thought of it, the gesture was purely, utterly, swoon-worthily romantic.
‘Looks like I got peasant’s rags.’ Alaina joined her, holding a brown bag of a dress with leather ties that smelled like old cow. ‘Wanna trade?’
‘Ummm…I’m afraid that isn’t my size.’ Carly’s fingers tightened around the hanger. She wouldn’t put it past the diva to try and outshine everyone—wearing Carly’s dress. The elevator opened and both ladies stepped in.
Alaina stood a little too close to her, breathing down her neck as if to smell Michelangelo’s cologne on her skin. ‘Why would he give you a special dress?’
‘I don’t know.’ Carly backed into the wall to get more space between them. After telling Alaina that Michelangelo was all hers, agreeing to meet him secretly would make her the biggest two-faced liar in the orchestra.
Alaina’s eyes stared, like her rendition of Mozart’s evil Queen of the Night. ‘You don’t know?’
‘Maybe I won a raffle? You know, he pulled my name out of a hat or something.’
‘Mm-hmm.’ Alaina pulled a tattered thread off her ugly dress and dropped it to the floor.
Unfortunately, the roommates were fixed for the entire trip.
The elevator beeped and the door opened.
‘What room are we looking for?’ Alaina didn’t even bother to check her own paperwork.
Thank goodness she’d dropped the dress issue. Sopranos were known for their short attention spans. ‘Five sixty-two.’
‘Right.’ Alaina ran her fingers through her silky red hair. ‘I forgot to tell you, the other day, Michelangelo showed me to this wonderful little café.’
‘He did?’ Carly’s
heart missed a beat. Was he playing them both? Making them fight for him against one another like dogs?
‘Yeah. I was walking to this other one, the Picasso Café. But Michelangelo was just coming out and he told me the food wasn’t so good, so he showed me to the Bel Piatto down the street.’
So, he had two dates in a row? Carly tried to control her jealousy, but it was like holding a raging pit bull by the collar. Didn’t like the food, eh? He seemed to enjoy his panini just fine.
‘He didn’t sit with me, he had tour stuff to do. But still, it was such a romantic gesture.’
‘Oh, I see.’ Had he driven Alaina away from discovering them? Or was he really wooing them both? Carly didn’t know him as well as she thought. Sure, he was open about his past on the vineyard, but four days of touring Italy was hardly enough to decipher any kind of character, or at least, not enough for another ‘experiment’ in her book.
What if she didn’t meet Michelangelo at all? That would certainly cool down what they had going and keep her on task. But stiffing him would be the easy way out, and she’d always wonder about him after going home. No, he was too irresistible to let go of so easily.
She’d have to confront Michelangelo about Alaina at the rose vase. He’d probably vehemently deny any relationship, as he’d done in the past. But Carly wasn’t going anywhere with him, both location-wise or physically until he gave her some substantial answers.
*****
Michelangelo strapped on his breastplate, admiring the golden dragon insignia on the front. Mio Dio, Renaissance women’s outfits looked much more comfortable then men’s. But it was either that or tights, so the heavy armor would have to do for the night. What he was looking forward to was seeing Carly in that gorgeous baroness dress he’d picked out. Just thinking of the way the red fabric would cling to her slight curves stirred desire deep in his gut.
Some things were worth it. Besides, he wanted the Easthampton Civic Symphony to have the night of their lives. They were certainly paying him enough for it. Besides a few choice members, he was beginning to like them, and he felt more and more of a responsibility to earn every euro of his check.
An American Girl in Italy Page 10