by Lori Dillon
David crossed his arms over his chest, forcing her to step back. Now that he’d started down this road, he wasn’t about to abandon the idea.
“Just what’s so wrong with this spot?”
Serafina looked around, then turned her angry attention back on him.
“Nothing is wrong with this spot, but we do things systematically here. We don’t just dig wherever we feel like it. Right now excavations are taking place on the Via dell’Abbondanza, and that’s where we should be working. Now.”
“Well, I think this would be a great spot to dig. It’s far away from all the noise of the other digging and…” He gestured over the wall. “We have a beautiful view to enjoy while we work.”
“I’m not interested in the view. And you shouldn’t be, either, if you want to keep your job.”
Her words caught his attention. Being fired would certainly throw a monkey wrench into his mission. Could she do that? Would she?
Just then, Heberto called from the base of the wall, drawing the attention of both of them.
David groaned. Spying on the Germans wasn’t going to be easy if everyone working at the ruins decided to stick their noses in his business.
Serafina climbed down the wall, and he followed her, surprised at her agility descending the jagged stones. Most of the women he knew would never have climbed that height in the first place.
When they reached the ground, Heberto was still wheezing due to the long walk from the main dig area and was hunched over with his hands planted on his knees. He gasped for breath, and David worried the old geezer might die from a heart attack right there in front of them.
Serafina went to help the elderly man to straighten up.
Heberto regarded them with incredibly sharp eyes.
“What are you two doing here?”
“We aren’t doing anything.” She gestured in David’s direction. “Kindly tell him that archeologists don’t go around digging holes wherever we feel like.”
Heberto looked puzzled.
“What? Why is he digging here?”
David decided to jump to his own defense before she tried burying him in one of those holes.
“I’m not digging here, but I was just telling Signorina Pisano that I thought it might be a nice place to try.”
“And I was just telling him that he was about to be fired.”
Heberto looked a bit disconcerted.
“Oh, I don’t think we can fire him.”
“Why not? He’s not doing his work. He’s wandering off into areas he shouldn’t be. I certainly think that’s grounds for dismissal.”
“Why don’t you try shoveling more than a spoonful of dirt at a time?” David grumbled under his breath. “Then you might find out what real work is.”
“Real work? Why you—”
Damn, the woman had keen hearing.
“There now, children. There’s no need to argue.” Heberto stepped between them, apparently afraid they might actually come to blows. David found the idea tempting, if it would shut her mouth.
“I’m afraid I cannot fire Signore Corbelli. With the war, strong men are hard to come by, as well you know. We need him.” Heberto put his arm around her shoulders. “As it happens, I think it would be a good idea for you to try digging away from the others for a while, Serafina.”
David couldn’t help but notice a wave of hurt flash in her blue eyes. She shook off Heberto’s arm and stepped back.
“Why?”
He gave her a knowing look.
“After what happened the other day, perhaps some distance from Giovanni would do you good.”
“I can handle Giovanni. Heberto, I’ve been working on the thermopolium excavation for over a year now. You can’t take it away from me.”
“I’m not taking it away from you. I’m giving you a chance to start new. Trust me. Think of all the wonders that lie here waiting for you to find them.”
Serafina crossed her arms and chewed on her lower lip. David wondered if she might start crying. God, he hated it when women cried. Finally, she sighed and nodded.
Heberto beamed.
“Buon, buon. I’ll go make the arrangements with Moretti. You can both start here in the morning.”
David watched as the old man stumbled back down the street, trying to navigate between patches of tall grass and wildflowers growing where Pompeians once walked centuries before.
Could it have really been that easy? Then he spied Serafina’s stiff back in front of him and something told him that he may have won a battle, but the war between them was far from over.
She turned to him, and the expression on her face could have frozen water in the hot Italian sun.
“Fine, Signore Archeologist. Since you are such an expert, where should we dig?” She flung her arms out, gesturing all around her. “Pick a spot. Any spot.” Then she bent down, scooped up a rock, and shoved it into his hand. “Here. Go ahead, throw it. I’m sure wherever it lands will be as good a place as any.”
She turned and stalked away, just as she had done the first time he saw her.
“Wait, Sera. Come back here. Let’s talk about this.”
“Don’t call me that. My name is Serafina. Signorina Pisano to you.” She turned and glared at him with her hands fisted on those trouser-covered hips. “And what is there to talk about? It seems to me that you’ve done plenty of talking for the both of us. I don’t know how you did it, but in less than one week you’ve managed to make your opinion more valuable to my superiors than my own, and I’ve worked here for over three years.” She looked off into the distance for a moment. “For some reason, that seems to be happening a lot lately.”
“I beg your pardon?” He didn’t have a clue what she was talking about.
“Never mind. Congratulations. You got your way.” She started to turn away, but swung back to face him, pointing her dainty little finger at the ground. “Just make sure you stay put. I don’t need you wondering off someplace else every day. You might not value my time, but I do. It takes me too long to track you down. Now, go home, Signore Corbelli. Quite frankly, I think I’ve had about enough of you for today.”
“Don’t worry, Sera.” He deliberately drew out the shortening of her name. “Starting tomorrow, you won’t be able to get rid of me. In fact, I’ll stay so close, I’ll be like your second skin.”
Her eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open. She looked utterly appalled. Even though most of what she had said was true, it didn’t do his male ego any good to realize she would rather be anywhere but where he was.
She regained her composure quickly, and her eyes narrowed to slits filled with contempt.
“Just be here, Signore Corbelli. Unless you’d like to do me a favor and not come back at all, since apparently I can’t even get you fired—yet.” Serafina turned and began walking away from him again.
If the dressing down she’d just given him hadn’t riled him enough, the sight of her angry backside sashaying away from him did. David squeezed the rock she’d shoved in his hand so hard, he thought he might crush it.
He knew it was juvenile. He knew it was stupid. But he did it anyway.
He threw the rock at her, aiming to send it close enough to startle her, but not actually hit her. Of course, that was the precise moment she decided to turn around and yell at him again.
The rock whizzed by her head, missing her cheek by a few inches. Her quick reflexes had her sprawled on the ground, staring at him as if he’d just tried to shoot her.
“Voi asino!” You ass.
For the second time in less than ten minutes, he’d managed to knock her to the ground. It was quite obvious that Serafina’s already low opinion of him had now hit rock bottom.
David ran to her and dropped down on one knee by her side. He cupped her cheek and examined her face, worried that he might actually have hit her.
“Sera, are you hurt? I didn’t mean… I’m sorry…”
She stared up at him, and her expression surprised him. Where
he expected pain or anger, he saw startled confusion and a vague awareness. What the hell did that look mean? Then her eyes narrowed, and the odd expression was gone as quickly as it had come. Rage took its place.
He couldn’t blame her. Since they’d met, he’d slammed her to the ground, held a knife to her throat, and nearly slugged her with a rock. She had every right to think he was some kind of madman.
“Don’t touch me.”
He instantly released his hold, but didn’t pull away.
“I said I was sorry.”
“Get. Away. From. Me.” She bit out the words through clenched teeth.
He sat back on his heels, giving her the space she needed.
“I swear it won’t happen again.”
She sprang to her feet, spun on her heel, and stalked away with the regal bearing of a queen. Only the dust coating her shapely backside diminished the total effect.
Without looking back at him, she shouted over her shoulder, “If it’s the last thing I do, Signore Corbelli, I’m getting you thrown off this dig site.”
As David watched her walk away, he knew he had his work cut out for him. And that work wouldn’t be spying on the Germans or digging in the rock hard dirt.
It would be getting Serafina Pisano to trust him.
*
The government had placed restrictions on everything since the war began, including the use of gas to heat water. Each apartment in Serafina’s building had a specific day when its residents could bathe or do laundry. Tonight was her night to take a bath, and she planned to relish every second of it.
Her building was actually an old town villa converted into small flats, but her landlady hadn’t gone so far as to install a bathroom in every apartment, so each floor had to share a common one. She donned her threadbare bathrobe and gathered up shampoo and soap from under the sink in her kitchenette. Throwing a towel over her shoulder, she prepared to indulge herself for a while.
As she headed to the door, an old black-and-white photo on the wall caught her attention. The woman in the portrait was breathtakingly beautiful. Young and carefree, she smiled with a naive girl’s innocence and love of life, eager to embrace all that the future held in store for her.
But that had been before she met the man who was to be Serafina’s father. After that, everything changed for the girl in the picture.
She adjusted the frame, running her finger over the glass as if she could caress the smooth cheek beneath. She still missed her mother terribly, even after all these years.
Taking in a deep breath, she tried to shake the melancholy feeling that came over her every time she thought of her mother and all that she had sacrificed for her only child. She could do nothing to change the past, and if her mother were still alive, she would tell Serafina that she wouldn’t want to, just as she had told her a thousand times while she was alive.
Serafina left her room and made her way to the bathroom at the end of the hall. Walking past the banister overlooking the stairs, she met her landlady as the woman came up from the first floor.
“Ah, Serafina. You’re home early. Is anything wrong?” the old lady asked.
Everything. “No. It’s just been a very long day, and I could use a bath.”
“I can see that.” Maria Angelico touched the tight bun secured at the nape of her neck, no doubt making sure not a hair strayed from its rigid confinement. “There are not many young ladies who would enjoy getting as dirty as you.”
“I wouldn’t say I enjoy it. It’s just part of the job.”
“How does it go over at the ruins?”
Serafina leaned her back against the wall, settling in for the long chat that inevitably came when speaking with Signora Angelico.
“I’ve had better weeks.”
“Is that so?”
She smiled down at the old woman. Small and frail, Maria was old enough to be her grandmother. Maybe that’s why Serafina found it so easy to confide in her. Behind the tiny stature and wrinkled skin hid a giant wall of strength that she had leaned on more than once.
“Giovanni and I had a bit of a disagreement over the dig site we were working on together.”
“Really?” The old woman’s face lit up, eager to hear any gossip, no matter the source. “What about?”
“He seemed to think he had the right to claim an artifact I found.” The incident still had her grinding her teeth.
“Oh, my. That wasn’t very nice of him.” Maria frowned and cocked her gray head to the side. “What did you do?”
“I argued with him about it in front of Signore Moretti.” She groaned inwardly at the memory of the spectacle she’d made of herself.
“Oh, Serafina, you didn’t! What did he do?”
“He gave Giovanni the credit, and I got reassigned to another location in the ruins.”
“Oh, you poor dear. That doesn’t seem fair.”
Serafina sighed. Since when had anything in her life been fair? It seemed as if it was always one thing or another, the latest being her banishment to the far regions of the ruins. At least that’s how it felt.
“It’s not that bad.” Yes, Serafina, say it enough, and you might start believing it. “The new area I’ve been assigned has hardly been touched. Who knows what might be discovered there?”
“That sounds exciting.” The old woman actually clapped for her.
“I suppose so.” She nodded, trying to see Maria’s excited view of things. “And since I’m in charge of the new site, there can be no ‘misunderstandings’ about who discovers any artifacts there.”
“Well, it seems like it could be a wonderful opportunity for you.”
It could be, if I didn’t have David Corbelli there to irritate me constantly.
“They even gave me my own assistant.”
“Really? An assistant?” Maria’s eyes widened. “Now that sounds impressive.”
It did sound impressive, and she knew she should feel a certain amount of pride, since up until now she’d always been someone else’s subordinate. She should be happy, because getting her own assistant validated her standing as a serious archeologist, if only just a little. She should be ecstatic that she was put in charge of her own area of the dig.
So why wasn’t she?
“He’s not an archeologist. He’s really just there to help me with the heavy work.”
Maria nodded in understanding. “The big, dumb, strong type, eh?”
Serafina thought of David lifting shovel after shovel of dirt, the muscles of his arms and back shifting beneath his sweat-soaked shirt. His deep brown eyes came to her mind. Shadowed under his hat, they seemed to be constantly surveying the area around him. It hadn’t taken her long to figure out that he wasn’t an average laborer.
“Sì, he’s strong, but I wouldn’t say he’s dumb.”
Something was definitely different about him. He had an awareness, an intelligence—one that he almost seemed determined to hide. And that made her uneasy. People hid secrets for many different reasons—she should know—and usually those reasons weren’t good, and the secrets behind them were even worse.
Maria reached out and patted her on the hand.
“Well, perhaps you will get on better with this new young man than you did with Giovanni.”
Serafina thought about how they’d clashed from the moment they’d met. He seemed determined to challenge her at every turn.
“Somehow, I doubt it.”
Shoving herself away from the wall, she made her way to the bathroom, wondering if David Corbelli might turn out to be a bigger problem for her than Giovanni ever was.
Chapter 8
David left his rented basement flat at quarter of ten and walked through the dark streets to the heart of modern Pompei.
The piazza was an open area bordered by small cafés and shops, usually packed with local farmers selling produce and women shopping for fresh vegetables for the day’s meals. But in these times of war, the farmers were seldom there. Most of the produce they grew went to
feed the soldiers. Very little was available to the Italian citizens, and what was left was severely rationed. Often times the farmers sold what they could on the black market at outrageous prices. War rations didn’t buy much for the honest citizen nowadays.
Though the market stalls had closed up for the evening, the piazza was still bustling with activity. Men and women sat in small groups, sharing wine and smoking cigarettes. David wove around clusters of people who’d stopped in the middle of the street to chat with friends and acquaintances. They had no worry about cars careening down the narrow streets. Gas was reserved strictly for military use, and, of course, for the wealthy who could afford to pay the black market price.
He wandered down the street, feigning interest in a shop window here, a war propaganda poster there.
“Ha ottenuto una luce?” A deep voice from behind asked if he had a light.
He winced at Frank Sullivan’s mangled use of the Italian language. The guy wouldn’t last five minutes among true Italians before they realized he was an American.
“Come on,” David replied in a low voice, turning Frank away with a nod of his head. “Let’s go somewhere where we can talk.”
He led Frank to an empty alley where they could speak English without the risk of being overheard. Once safely out of earshot, Frank pulled a rumpled pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket and offered one to David.
David held up his hand to decline. “No, thanks.”
“Take it,” Frank prodded. “If there’s one thing I’ve noticed, the Italians smoke like chimneys. It might look better if someone passes by and looks this way. Otherwise, they may think we’re up to no good, sneaking down here like this.”
“Either that, or they’ll think we’re two lovers looking for a place to do some hanky-panky.”
Frank looked mortified, his whole body physically shivering from his cap-topped head down to his toes.
“Christ, I hope not.”
David chuckled and took the cigarette, an Army-issue Lucky Strike.
“Heaven forbid there’s any doubt of your sexual preferences, even to strangers.”
“You better believe it, buddy.” Frank lit David’s cigarette after firing up his own. He took a long, hard drag and blew the white smoke into the air between them. “So, what have you got for me?”