by Leslie North
It was the same on both sides of the long dock, and it allowed boats to load and unload passengers right at the resort’s hearth. In addition to that, a natural stone ledge extending out from one of the boat landings—bleached white by the sun and beaten smooth by the sea—was a perfect spot for sunbathing or swimming. As for the water, it was as blue and sparkled as brilliantly as a priceless sapphire. The water was crystal clear, and the loveliness of it all could mesmerize even the coldest of hearts.
The Romano del Mare complemented the land on which it stood. It didn’t try to compete with the natural beauty surrounding it, rather it did its best not to get in the way.
Putting her back to the sea, Adeline took in the large, now-empty resort. The client that Nicolo had arranged to meet with today had a reputation for bulldozing and rebuilding. She flinched at the thought of the Romano del Mare razed to the ground only to have a garish monstrosity built in its place. She’d seen pictures of Nicolo’s client’s other constructions. They were more about flash than substance. They didn’t understand the Sicilian culture, and anyone who stayed at any resort that they built here would miss out on all that being in Sicily was really about.
“I can’t stay to watch that,” Adeline said to herself. But then, she had no intentions of that. She had a plan. The buyer she had set up to view the resort owed her a favor. With his help, Adeline was going to convince Nicolo that he had a buyer willing to commit if some improvements to the property were made. In truth, though, her fake buyer was just that—fake. The sale would never happen. It was underhanded of her, but she knew that in the end Nicolo's investment in the property would pay off for him. He would come out financially ahead, and the Romano del Mare would live to see another century. It was a win-win.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Turning her back to the resort once more, she pulled it out of her pocket to check the incoming email she had just received. It was from Andalucia Real Estate, the Spanish real estate agency to which she had applied. Her application had been accepted and they were returning with an offer of a job. A salary bid was included. It was lower than anticipated, but that was to be expected. She would counter bid, aiming high, and then an agreement would be met somewhere in the middle.
She sighed heavily as she accepted that her future was to be in Spain. It was bittersweet, but the thought of new adventures brought a smile to her lips despite her sadness.
Typing in some search words, Adeline’s phone loaded with images of Spain. It wasn’t Sicily, she knew, but it was very charming. On top of that, she would be exposed to new foods, places, and people in addition to new excitement to satiate her need to do and see more than the everyday life she’d been living.
“Parasailing in Spain?” a warm tenor spoke next to Adeline’s ear, causing her to jump and send her cell phone tumbling. Nicolo’s quick hand snatched it out of mid-air before it could fall to the ground, then he handed it back to her. Turning, she found him smiling lazily back at her with the gaze of an early morning lover in his dreamy eyes.
“I didn’t hear you. You scared me.” Adeline said, her voice and body at first stiff with embarrassment at being caught so completely by surprise. Then, her shoulders relaxed and she allowed herself to smile, too, with her head titled slightly back so that she could look up into Nicolo’s face. He was standing close to her, as Sicilians often did, and she had to resist the urge to rest her palm on his solid and steady, muscular chest. She imagined the feel of his strength beneath her hand, and forced herself to focus instead on the fact that he wanted to tear down a building that had stood for nearly a thousand years.
“I am sorry,” Nicolo said, leaning in to kiss her right cheek and then her left. “I saw you standing here, looking as lovely as any day I’ve seen, and I could not resist the chance to look upon you before… how do you say? Before your guard was up.”
“Before my guard was up?” Adeline parroted him, her brows lifted in surprise and her smile growing.
“It is not your fault, bedda. You’re Americano. It’s your way.”
Adeline gasped, and her cheeks colored as her eyes sparked with ire. “I am not Americano!” she exclaimed in response to the implication that she was a Sicilian who had lost her roots.
“Bedda! Forgive me!” Nicolo bent low to kiss her hand. “I only meant that you are from America. I can hear it in your voice, no?”
Adeline gave Nicolo a sideways glance as she considered whether or not to forgive him. After all, she had come home to Sicily, and she had embraced her roots with both arms wide. She was not Americano. She ignored the fact that she was considering abandoning those roots to move to Spain. She had not moved yet, she was still in Sicily, and so for now at least, she was still not Americano. And that Nicolo had called her bedda—beautiful—did help to soothe the fire he had sparked within her a little, so she demurred with a Mona Lisa smile.
“Bedda, there you are!” Nicolo exclaimed, throwing his arms wide before giving her another two-cheek kiss to greet the return of the happy Adeline.
She laughed and batted Nicolo away with the back of her hand. The man was solid. She had not expected the wall of muscle her hand had met.
“It’s not me who is the Americano…” Adeline said, giving a slow, flirtatious blink of her eyes to soften her words. She wasn’t sure that she could call him Americano. It wasn’t that he had given up his roots for the sake of America. It was more that he had simply given up his roots of anywhere, so far as she could tell from what she’d heard from others or gleaned from the Internet. He was a jet setter, never staying in one place for very long. He had wanderlust every bit as bad as she did—either that or the idea of anything permanent sent him running. She wasn’t sure which.
Nicolo slapped his hand over his heart as if wounded by Adeline’s words, and then said, lifting a hand into the sky, “I am a child of the world. For that, you will have to blame my mother. But! Enough of that. I want to know why you are looking at the waters of Spain when you have the wonderful Ionian Sea at your fingertips.”
Adeline waffled on whether or not to tell him the truth—that she had been offered a position in Spain. She was still holding out hope that he would be willing to renovate the Romano del Mare rather than sell it for demolition. If he thought that she would not be there to help implement renovation plans, he might more easily turn around and walk away from one of the most fantastic resorts the island had ever known. The place just needed some TLC, some love to rejuvenate it. She couldn’t turn her back on it now when she had finally, after so many months of trying, gotten the attention of one of the resort’s new owners.
“I was considering a vacation,” Adeline answered. “Adding a little adventure to my life.”
Nicolo’s entire face registered surprise as his eyes went round and his full lips parted. “You live here,” he said with a wide sweep of his arm, “and you want to go to Spain for adventure?”
Adeline shrugged, unapologetic. “I’ve seen all of the major spots at least three times. I’ve been to Mt. Edna, the Valley of the Temples, and Palermo Cathedral. I’ve taken five different tours covering the Greek, Roman and Spanish histories of the island, just to mention a few. I don’t know how much more there is for me to see.”
“Oh… It’s so cute that you think that,” he said with a crooked smile and devilish eyes. He moved close, turned her to face the sea and draped a strong arm over her shoulder. She fit perfectly against him. Stretching an arm out before her, he pointed at the horizon in a sweeping motion. “Have you heard of Taormina’s Grotta Azzurra? Winding tunnels into solid rock with water so blue it will make you weep tears of joy.”
He moved his outstretched hand as if he could paint the images of his words, mesmerizing Adeline. His voice was a seduction in her ear and she found herself leaning into him more. Shaking her head no, she didn’t speak the word for fear that it would break the spell he was weaving.
Dipping his head, Nicolo whispered, and it gave her goosebumps. “Then there is Dead Man’s Waves
and Mermaid’s Retreat.”
“Mermaid’s Retreat?” She gave his side a playful nudge with her elbow. “Now you’re making stuff up. Don’t tease me.”
The sound of a car entering the parking lot reached Adeline’s ears, and she tucked her phone away inside her pants pocket. As easy as breathing, she shifted from play into work mode—that is, until she felt Nicolo’s large hand settle over the small of her back. It made her shiver and her breath hitch. When he spoke again, his voice had deepened and it vibrated over her. It made her have to bite her bottom lip to keep from releasing a sighed whimper of want.
“Bedda, let me show you Sicily. Its beauty goes deep, and you need an experienced guide to help you find all the pleasures it has to offer.”
Adeline’s cheeks turned pink at his choice of words, but when she twisted to look him in the eyes, all that was within their stunning blue depths was sincerity. She risked one word and one word only. To say more would give away how much his touch and his presence affected her, and she wasn’t ready for that. She also wasn’t ready to give up on living life to its fullest. Her grandparents had lived with a motto of embracing life and all it had to offer. She would too.
“Yessss,” she breathed on an exhale.
It turned out that even that one word revealed more than she had wanted, and the heat in her cheeks grew as she faced forward once more. But her heart and her body sang with the word and the possibilities before her.
Yes.
5
Nicolo
Nicolo saw the interest fade from the eyes of Adeline’s client the minute he got out of his car and took in the state of the crumbling dock. It was humbling to see it anew through a stranger’s eyes, but it was what it was and the state of the resort was why he and his brothers wanted to sell the Romano del Mare. The sooner the resort sold, the sooner Nicolo could leave Sicily behind and return to his jet-setting lifestyle. He didn’t like to be tied down.
“Nicolo, please meet Giro Di Salvo,” Adeline said. If she, too, had noticed the instant lack of interest in Giro’s eyes, she didn’t let any disappointment enter her voice.
Nicolo shook Giro’s hand. “Thank you for coming today. As you know, this property has a rich history, but it is ready to see a new chapter in its existence,” Nicolo said, starting in on his sales pitch. But five minutes later, the spark of interest in Giro’s eyes still hadn’t returned, and Nicolo was surprised that the man didn’t make some excuse for why he needed to leave the meeting early. Instead, the three of them spent the next two hours walking the hotel from top to bottom and even taking a look at the land from the roof of the hotel. The only parts that weren’t completely explored were the catacombs and many of the small storage rooms below. When the tour was done and Giro headed on his way, the goodbyes weren’t full of warmth. Instead, they were perfunctory, and Giro was in his car driving away a moment later.
“Well, we won’t be hearing from him again,” Nicolo said. “I am sorry Adeline, but your client doesn’t have much interest in this place. He couldn’t see the vision of what it could be. But the client I’ve set up will be able to see it.” He gave her his best eat-your-heart-out wink.
“Is your client early?” Adeline asked, pulling out her phone to glance at the time as a red Porche pulled into the parking lot.
“Looks that way. Perfect timing,” Nicolo said before shifting into introductions when a middle-aged man exited the Porche. He was tall and slender with pale skin and angular features. Nicolo was sure that Adeline would be able to recognize that the man wasn’t native to the island. “Please meet Adeline Peluso. Adeline, this is Thomas Novotny.”
Adeline shook his hand instead of leaning in for the customary cheek kisses of the island.
“Thomas and I have been talking about the possibilities of this property for the last month.” And so another tour began. Nicolo walked them from one end of the long deck to the other, pointing out how spots of it were crumbling. Then, inside the hotel, he showed off every frayed wire and cracked wall. The damage was extensive.
It was like exposing the faults and weaknesses of an old friend, but there was no helping it. The Romano del Mare had been a part of his family for long enough. It was time to let it go to someone who could bring a fresh start to the location.
“What are your plans with the place?” Adeline asked Thomas as Nicolo wiggled a wrought iron railing that had grown loose in its mooring. The plaster had given way and now the railing posed a risk of being toppled over if someone were to lean against it too heavily.
“Romano del Mare was a fine resort in its day,” Thomas said. “I’ve seen the pictures, but it’s not what today’s tourist is looking for. We would gut the interior first and salvage the materials we could. This iron railing is exquisite, for example. We might not use it at this facility, but it could be incorporated into another project.” He shrugged, did a head tilt to the side and pulled the ends of his mouth down as his gaze swept the space around them. “All of this—the building, everything—we would bulldoze it to the ground and start fresh.”
Adeline flinched at the description of what would happen to the Romano del Mare, but Thomas didn’t notice.
“In its place we would build a state of the art steel-and-glass resort.”
This time it was Nicolo’s turn to do his best to hold back his reaction. The material of the island was rock. It was in every piece of architecture on Sicily.
“We will ship in our own staff and chefs,” Thomas continued, oblivious. “It will be offered up as a home away from home for the European traveller.”
And will have nothing to do with Sicily. Nicolo had to bite his tongue. There weren’t that many builders who could afford their asking price of twenty million euros. If Thomas purchased the Romano del Mare for that price, it would be his to do with as he pleased—even if that meant destroying it and building a monstrosity in its place.
In many ways, seeing the Romano del Mare torn down rather than restored would be easier. To see it restored would be to see someone else succeed where his family had failed. Yet, hearing Thomas’s plans for the location left him feeling queasy.
“Those plans are amazing!” Adeline said with so much excitement that Nicolo focused the whole of his attention on her in an attempt to discover whether there was anything disingenuous about her response. To his surprise, she appeared thrilled, then concern etched her face as the line between her brows showed itself. “Of course,”—she hesitated, pursing her lips as if working through a difficult problem—“Sicily’s historic preservation societies could make getting approval for such a design very difficult.”
Ahhhh, there she is.
Nicolo had to hide his smile. He didn’t want Adeline to know that he was amused rather than upset by her attempt to undermine the sale. He liked seeing the fire in her, and it had saddened him to think, even for that split second, that her fight had gone.
“Sicily’s historic preservation society?” Thomas repeated. It was clear that this was the first he was hearing of its existence.
“Oh yes, yes,” Adeline said. “Sicily has a very rich history, and more than anywhere, that history can be seen in its architecture. So, the historic preservation society is very vocal when it comes to the kind of buildings that get built here on the island.”
Nicolo pursed his lips but didn’t respond, leading the three of them into a suite of rooms. The rooms had been used for all kinds of celebrations, everything from weddings and anniversaries to important “family” meetings when a neutral space was needed. In this case, family spelled another way was mafia. In Sicily, they were simply a part of life.
The windows in the suite, and throughout Romano del Mare, were very tall with a rounded top. They were shaped similar to and about the same size as a human body. Every window throughout the suite of rooms was cracked, yet regardless of their age and the beating that time had given them, the view they provided was spectacular. Nicolo wondered about what kind of view a wall of glass would provide. It would in
deed be spectacular, but something would be lost without the stable strength of the building to frame the sight of the rolling land and sea beyond.
This is better, he thought to himself, aware of a sadness that the view he knew so well would soon be lost to be replaced by another. While the history preservation society had a lot of pull, he also knew that Thomas’s company had enough money to grease the right palms in order to turn arguments toward their cause rather than against it.
“Look here,” Nicolo said, returning to the task at hand. He dragged a finger down a thin line in the plaster that looked as if it was nothing but a crack that a little paint could fix. “This crack extends all the way down this wall, all the way down the wall of the floor below us and into the foundation of the building. It doesn’t get much bigger than what you see here, but the foundation has been compromised.”
Thomas clapped his hands together. “You see, with issues like this, there can be no reasonable objection to this old place being torn down.”
Adeline traced her finger down the crack all the way to the floor. “I hadn’t noticed this before,” she said, then lifted her face to look at Nicolo. “Are you sure that it extends all the way down to the foundation?”
“I’m positive.”
“Hmph,” Adeline said, standing up and crossing her arms over her chest. She did not look impressed by the severity of the crack or by its inferred meaning.
“‘Hmph?’” Thomas prompted, his curiosity piqued.
“If buildings with issues like these were destroyed, I imagine that half of the buildings on the island would have been torn down by now. While you could use it to make an argument for the building’s destruction, Sicily’s legal system is very thorough. They would need to review the building’s longevity potential before making any final decisions.”