The Italian Step : Luca (A Romance)

by Talia Day

  The Italian Step

  (A Steamy STEP Romance)

  By Talia Day

  Copyright 2015 Talia Day

  All Rights Reserved

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  The Italian Step

  Chapter 1

  I grew up in a dusty little hamlet you’ve never heard of: Milson, Texas, a hundred-and-fifty miles north of San Antonio. There was only one paved road, very little infrastructure in general, and about the only thing to do on a Friday night was either hang out at the forlorn Chaparral Café on Main Street, where my mother worked, loiter in front of Bob Carlson's general store until closing time, or chat with passersby under the six unhappy street lamps that were interspersed throughout the town.

  My mother had gotten pregnant with me at 23, and my dad hit the road soon afterwards, leaving her to raise me on her own. Life was a struggle during my early years, to say the least, and with there just being the two of us it was lonely at times. But there was always food on the table, a roof over our heads, and plenty of love to go around.

  But then, shortly after I turned thirteen, we came by a stroke of incredible luck.

  A local Milson boy, Robert Patterson, had struck it big in the oil business. He had come back to Milson to visit his parents and grandparents, and met my mom one afternoon as she was about to start her shift at the café. Long-story-short, they got married soon afterwards and my life practically changed overnight. Gone forever were the chintzy clothes from K-Mart and the thrift shop, as were the dinners of leftovers and soon-to-expire hamburger from the café. No more waiting outside the school for my mom to pick me up in her battered Oldsmobile, or saving change in a jar for our once-a-year vacation to Corpus Christi to visit my grandparents and see the ocean.

  No, all of that was gone--and in its place was the hustle and bustle of effervescent Austin. Life was suddenly a whirlwind of lavish ski vacations and extravagant society functions. Robert even bought me a brand new BMW for my sixteenth birthday.

  It would have been a charmed life and a happily-ever-after ending had my mother not died of cervical cancer three years later. Somehow I pulled through, though, and in the wake of it all I turned into a quiet, studious young woman who made the honor roll every year. Driven inwards by her death I devoted most of my time to studying, training for the cross-country running team, and reading in solitude. I hadn't the time nor the desire to spend every waking moment viciously jockeying for status and popularity like the other spoiled brats at the private high school I attended; I clearly didn't fit in there, obvious to myself and to my peers. All that being said, I felt fairly content and sensed my life was productive and forward-moving. And thankfully Robert always treated me well and made sure I wanted for nothing.

  Which wasn’t to say that my life was complete. It would have been nice to have had a group of friends who were more than study partners looking to keep up their grades and satisfy their parents. And it would have been nice to go on a date with a boy, at least once.

  Mind you, my lack of dating experience had nothing to do with my looks; in fact, I was quite attractive, and I knew it. My body was lean, lithe and sculpted from running competitively, and I was intelligent, witty and, quite frankly, felt superior to the others despite my impoverished background (actually, come to think of it, maybe because of it). No, I received my fair share of advances from the popular jocks; it was just that I knew better than to take them seriously. They were after me because, to them, I was just another pussy they could put in their trophy case. And because, when it came right down to it, I was hotter than even the most popular girls who ruled the school.

  If only I'd had the ditzy, superficial personality to match theirs. Too bad for them…

  But enough about me. Let’s talk about what happened last summer, nine months ago when Robert got into his head to sponsor a Formula One auto racing team in Italy. Ever since he was a child he had been a car-racing fanatic. So naturally he decided to buy a North Carolina-based NASCAR team after he made it big in oil. Astonishingly his team won two Winston Cup titles, and from that point on Robert became mildly neurotic with regard to anything related to auto racing. After his success in the states, he thought why not try to dominate the European racing circuit?

  So off to Europe he went, in search of a team. He found one soon enough, but during the process he stumbled upon Victoria, the gorgeous wife of an Italian industrialist who just happened to co-sponsor the same team Robert was interested in.

  Needless to say, it was as if a bomb exploded when Robert came to my room one day last month to tell me he essentially stole a former fashion model from one of Italy’s richest men and was going to marry her. Her husband, Raphael Berlusconi, without batting an eyelash and in typical Italian fashion, gladly signed the divorce papers and started dating another model; he and Robert were now good friends, both wildly enthusiastic over the same team.

  As I learned soon after my mother married Robert, life moves quickly for the 'rich and famous,' and in the case with Victoria it was no different: she obtained dual-citizenship and moved in to Robert's Austin mansion just twelve days later.

  ****

  A couple of days after Victoria arrived the three of us were at Starbucks, waiting in line at the drive-thru. I was seated in the back and listened curiously as they once again talked irritably about her son, Luca, a year younger than me at 18; from what little I picked up from Victoria since I met her he always seemed to be in some sort of trouble. The latest morsel of bad news had to do with some kind of scandal at his boarding school in Italy. Victoria had been trying to get him admitted to another school but without much success.

  As we pulled up to the speaker Robert asked, “Victoria, what do you want?”

  “Oh, I do not know yet,” she replied hesitantly in her thick Italian accent.

  “Amelia, you want the usual?”

  “Sure,” I said absentmindedly, looking up from my phone; I always got the same: a double non-fat latte, extra hot. Luca had just added me as a 'friend' on Facebook and I was flipping through his pictures. If I hadn’t known he was my rich, well-to-do stepbrother I would have been totally intimidated by him. He looked big and tough, not the kind of boy one would expect the svelte Victoria to give birth to. Luca had a strong jaw line, a masculine face covered in stubble, and a broad, athletic build.

  I flipped through his pictures with more than a passing interest. He was muscular, but not bulky like the meat-head jocks at my school. He was nicely proportioned. His black hair was a sexy, curly tangle that seemed to fall into just the right place, even if it was tousled in such a way that suggested total carelessness.

  But none of that really seemed intriguing, at least not compared to his eyes, which were a piercing, icy light-blue. Even on the fuzzy screen of my iPhone they looked like they were burning with some kind of otherworldly force that demanded I keep flipping through his photos. I usually had zero patience for Facebook, but in this particular case I kind of enjoyed looking at Luca.

  “I still do not know,” Victoria hedged. She turned around to look at me. “What do you usually get, Amelia?”

  "A double, whole-milk latte, extra hot.”

  “Amelia,” she said with astonishment, her eyes widening a little behind her oversized sunglasses. “Such an appetite! Just like my son, he has crazy appetite for everything.”

&nb
sp; I rolled my eyes--was she serious? At that moment I realized why fashion models had the reputation they did for eating disorders. What did she expect I order from Starbucks? A cup of water?

  “How about a double, non-fat latte?” Robert suggested with a wry smile.

  “Well, okay, I guess,” Victoria acquiesced.

  We got our drinks and drove back to the house. I wanted to take a dip in the pool and lay around in the sun before I took a crack at my homework. I didn’t quite know why, but I took a sort of sick satisfaction in working through a giant stack of AP assignments; the same feeling induced by a grueling workout on the track.

  When we got back I sat down at the kitchen table with Robert and Victoria to finish up what remained of my latte.

  “We’re going to go shopping this morning,” Robert said. “What’re you going to do today, honey?”

  I shrugged. “Hang out by the pool a little, then get my homework out of the way.”

  I finished up my drink and then bounced out of my chair to give Robert a hug. “Okay, well I’ll see you guys later. Have fun shopping.” I then gave Victoria a hug.

  “Have a good day, Amelia, sweetheart,” she said affectionately, kissing both of my cheeks. "I wish Luca was more like you." She had the most charming accent!

  I bounded up the stairs to my room and changed into the little red bikini that Victoria had bought me last week. I put my hair up as I scrutinized myself in the mirror. I had been freaked out about buying the bikini, but Victoria had insisted, then simply bought it for me despite my protests. Looking this provocative scared me: the way the thin straps and little triangles of fabric made me flaunt my figure gave me a nervous flutter in my stomach. Even if I was still a little on the thin side, I looked like a woman now: and a dangerous one at that.

  If I didn’t have the house to myself this morning there was no way I would have ever walked around in it like this. I threw on the old straw Stetson I’d had forever, grabbed my favorite pair of cheap, neon-framed shades, and made my way down to the pool.

  I splashed around a little then laid myself out on a deck chair to dry out. An hour of delicious laziness in the sunshine would feel great before I cracked the books.

  Just as I settled comfortably into the lounger my phone buzzed indicating a new text message had arrived. I groaned and reached for it. Probably Julia. She was my closest friend, constant study partner, and a miserable depressive whom, lately, I couldn’t stand to be around for more than a few hours. She’d probably been eating her younger brother’s Adderall and was now eager to come over and study for our AP history exam. We talked about going to one of the trendy coffee shops downtown this weekend to do our homework there. But I didn’t feel like studying right at this moment; all I wanted was to just lie around and feel the hot sunshine on my body.

  I reluctantly picked up the phone. It wasn't Julia after all. Instead I had a message from a number I didn’t recognize. Shielding my eyes from the glaring sunlight, I tapped on the screen to open the message.

  Ciao. This is Luca, your brother from Italy. How are you doing in the USA?

  Oh how exciting, I thought. I tried to think of something to write back that wasn’t totally banal.

  Nothing...just hanging out by the pool on a Saturday morning. What time is it in Italy? Ugh, so much for banal.

  Maybe I should send him a picture instead--haha. Sure, my racy new swimsuit scared me when I looked at myself in front of the mirror, but viewed on a fuzzy phone screen on the other side of the world, it probably wouldn't appear all that provocative.

  I held the camera above me, pointing it at my body sprawled on the lawn chair. I was new to this whole selfie-taking business, which had always seemed a little self-absorbed and stupid to me. I could barely see the preview in the screen against the glare of the sun. I snapped a picture and looked at the result. Not bad, I thought. I definitely looked...hot. And it was the kind of great picture you get every so often, just out of sheer dumb luck. The background, the expensive Mexican tiles that Robert had paved the deck with, was blown out almost too white, in a way that looked sort of artistic. The curves of my body were in shockingly high definition, and my bikini was bright, bright red. I looked at this gem of a picture in wonder, not quite believing the girl on the pool chair was really me.

  Should I even send it? It seemed so audacious and flirtatious, but that was probably just my shyness talking. And the picture just looked too good, someone besides me should see it anyway. I tapped ‘send’ before I could have any more second thoughts.

  I waited nervously for a response. Then I placed the phone down and tried to relax again. But a moment later it buzzed.

  It was Julia.

  Let’s study for History?

  Sure, I texted back. Come over whenever.

  I groaned and stretched. I wanted to keep lying in the sun. I gathered my things and looked at my selfie one last time before finally making myself get up.

  ****

  I headed back upstairs and changed out of my bikini. I kept playing around with my phone, taking pictures of myself naked and sprawled on my bed. I looked at them inquisitively, checking myself out. I deleted them all but one.

  My phone buzzed--another message from Luca.

  Wow. I have most beautiful sister, haha. Sorry if my english not so good.

  I jumped on my bed excitedly.

  Your English is perfect. ;)

  I wanted to laze around, and I wanted Luca to text me back, but I had work to do. I pulled on a pair of old running shorts and a t-shirt. Julia arrived a few minutes later, lugging her books in a heavy backpack.

  “Hey,” she said. Her face looked bleary. But I it wasn’t from a late night partying--it was from studying for thirty hours straight and being sad.

  “You look really happy for some reason,” Julia muttered.

  “Oh?” I blushed. I’d felt so bold sending that picture to Luca, but in real life that wasn't anything like me.

  “Whatever. Let’s take this AP History test and fuck it in the ass.”

  “Julia,” I asked sweetly, “are you eating Jordan’s Adderall again?” She looked at me blankly.

  “Snorting it. Come on, let’s study."

  The day passed quickly. Sometimes I wondered if I would have my ridiculously high GPA without Julia there to push me. I could see the sun setting outside, painting the sky all kinds of orange and magenta. If there was one thing I was going to miss when I headed off for college, it would be watching the sun set over Texas Hill Country.

  “Let’s take a break,” I finally sighed. Her Adderall was probably wearing off anyway.

  “Okay,” Julia said. We walked outside and I jumped into the pool in my underwear, shrieking. Julia rolled up the legs of her jeans and dangled her bare legs in the water sourly. I grabbed my phone and took another selfie, in my wet bra with the setting sun in the background.

  “Check it out,” I said, showing the image to Julia.

  “Cute,” she said flatly.

  I wanted to put it on Facebook in the hope Luca would see it, but then thought better of it; first, my nipples were showing through the white fabric of my bra, which could get me into all sorts of trouble in the future; and second, it was too sexy, just not my style. I'm a good girl at heart, I really am.

  Still, I was feeling naughty and wanted to take more pictures, so I did. I laid down on one of the pool chairs and slid a thumb under the hem of my panties, pulling it away from my wet skin ever-so-slightly before snapping another picture

  “Oh my God,” Julia said, watching me. "What's gotten into you?!"

  “What?” I giggled.

  “Just because you’re hot now doesn’t mean you have to turn into little miss super slut.” Jake Hanson, the school's football star asked me out last week; it was news all over school. Yeah, okay, maybe it went to my head a little.

  “I’m just having some fun,” I smiled, putting my phone away.

  “Whatever. Sheesh.”

  “Ooh, a message from Lu
ca!” I wiggled with excitement. He had just sent me a picture.

  ****

  I squirmed with consternation as I looked at it. Luca had sent me a picture of him sitting in a hot tub, presumably somewhere in the Alps, with a stunning snow-scape as a backdrop, full of craggy mountains behind him. But it wasn’t the setting, or his chiseled, shirtless body that piqued my interest the most. It was the two topless girls sitting on either side of him. He was holding them such that his arms covered their bare breasts, and the expression on all three of their faces was one of utter mischief. Luca, who had seemed so rugged and handsome before, looked like a total douchebag. And why would Luca even send me a picture like that? Obnoxious. My phone buzzed again.

  Sorry!!! Meant to send to my friend Daniela. For art project about social media and culture. I am making lots of pictures for her.