by Lola Gabriel
The man before her was tall enough to blot out the spectacularly setting sun at his back, a mop of damp blonde curls encircling a beach-bum face. He was not much younger than MJ, perhaps nineteen or twenty, and he exuded virility as he glanced down at her. Without a shirt, MJ could see his lean but defined muscles rippling with each move he made, and when he grinned, his emerald eyes seemed emblazoned into her, his white teeth nearly blinding her.
MJ slowly sat up in the Adirondack chair, nodding her light brown mane of hair enthusiastically.
“I do,” she replied, his infectious smile causing her to smile back at him. “In fact, it’s the only language I do speak.”
That was a humiliating thing to say, she thought, but it was too late to take it back. Thankfully, the man didn’t seem to notice.
“I wasn’t sure because of your beautiful features,” he told her, and MJ felt a flush of appreciation despite the somewhat cheesy line.
She could tell the man was only trying to flatter her, but it still made her shiver.
“You’re American, then?” he asked, sitting on the neighboring chair. MJ nodded her head.
“And you’re… British?” she guessed, trying to place his accent. She didn’t have much experience in that department.
Maybe he can change that for me, she thought coyly, eyeing him through her dark lashes with her bright blue eyes.
He scowled slightly, and MJ immediately felt the moment of flirtation disappear.
“I’m Australian,” he replied curtly.
“Oh,” she said, unsure of how to apologize for her mistake. “Sorry.”
The guy’s grin returned, and MJ exhaled a sigh of relief, extending a manicured hand toward him.
“MJ Preston,” she introduced herself.
“Dan Sopher,” he said in turn, accepting her hand and holding it a minute longer than necessary. They gazed at one another for a mesmerizing moment until Dan broke eye contact, turning to stare at the horizon.
Darkness was overtaking the dusk.
Dan chuckled. “Just when I thought Italy couldn’t get any more beautiful, I see you sitting here. And I thought to myself, there’s a good-looking Sheila if I ever saw one.”
MJ’s brow furrowed in confusion. “My name is not Sheila,” she told him.
Dan glanced at her, equally perplexed. Then he laughed.
“A Sheila… a girl,” he explained. “It’s an Aussie thing.” This time it was MJ who chuckled, embarrassed.
“I’m sorry, I’m afraid I’m not up on my Aussie slang,” she confessed, and he shrugged nonchalantly.
“Well, I suppose you’ll have to teach me your American words, and I’ll get you up to speed with the Aussie way, right? Then we can decide which one’s better.”
He winked at her, and a slow blush appeared on MJ’s face.
Is he expecting to spend time with me, then?
“How long are you in Lucca for?” she asked, trying not to let her nervousness show. It was uncharacteristic of her to be at such a loss for words, but Dan was just so charismatic, so handsome.
“I just got here yesterday,” he answered, turning to grimace at the building behind them. “I’m going to be here another three days before heading to Tuscany with my mates. Although I have to say the accommodations are bollocks.”
You don’t know crappy accommodations, she thought, envisioning the small cabin in which she and her four siblings had been raised.
“This is my first time staying in a hostel,” she informed him, and he arched an eyebrow. “It doesn’t seem that bad to me.”
“Oh, yeah? Are you one of those girls who only does five-star resorts? Decided to try slumming it with the peasants for a few days?” he teased.
MJ guffawed and threw a hand over her mouth in humiliation at the unattractive noise.
Do I really look like that kind of woman? She couldn’t imagine being mistaken for rich, not even in her wildest dreams.
“No,” she replied, laughing. “This is my first vacation out of the States.”
Dan turned his sculpted body toward her, his eyes twinkling. “I don’t blame your parents for wanting to keep you close to home,” he told her. His eyes ran up and down her body in a way that made MJ giggle.
“So, what are you going to do while you’re here?”
“I’m going to the Lobo Nero Vineyards tomorrow. Do you know it?” she asked, hoping he could provide her some insight.
“No,” Dan said. “But I think I’ll get to know it soon.”
MJ arched an eyebrow at him “You are?”
He nodded, leaning in so close to her, she caught a whiff of his coconut suntan lotion. Dan licked his lips and brushed a strand of hair over her freckled shoulders.
The actions gave MJ goosebumps, and she tried not to shiver with pleasure.
“Wasn’t that your way of inviting me to come with you?” Dan asked, and there was no stopping MJ from turning bright red.
“I–I mean, I don’t…” MJ tried to compose herself before speaking again. “That sounds great. The tour bus leaves at ten o’clock.”
He smiled at her and rose suddenly, reaching for her half-drunk glass. Without asking, he downed the remaining wine, and MJ felt her brows shoot up.
Did he just do that?
Again, Dan grinned disarmingly and handed her the empty glass.
“I’m in room 2A,” he told her, as if he had not just finished her beverage. “But I’m sharing with my mates, so if you want to sneak in, try to be quiet.”
He turned to leave, leaving MJ to gape after him.
He just drank my wine and invited me to his shared room for a booty call, she thought, a dozen responses ready to spring from her lips. None of them made their way out of her mouth as she gazed at his defined back.
Okay, so he’s a little bit of a jerk, but maybe it’s a cultural thing, she reasoned. It’s not like you’re looking for a long-term relationship with him.
She wondered what—if anything—she was looking for with him.
Dan turned back to her and casually waved at her. “See you later, MJ,” he called out, sauntering away.
After he retreated inside the hostel, MJ shook her head in disbelief, reaching for the bottle of white wine she had tucked away in an ice bucket beneath her chair. She was glad she had hidden it from view.
The exterior lights flicked on, a gentle string of white bulbs intertwined through the lush shrubbery, illuminating the cobblestone below her.
The hostel overlooked the city of Lucca, and slowly, more lights flickered on in the distance, casting a romantic glow on the ancient city.
A view, wine, and possibly a booty call, MJ thought dryly. This vacation will be one for the books, for sure. Maybe I’ll hold off on sending those emails until I have something better to report.
The following morning, MJ was awakened to rustling at her side.
She slowly opened her eyes and saw Eva, the old woman who ran the hostel, sweeping under her bed. Blinking, MJ peered at her curiously.
“Buongiorno,” Eva greeted without slowing her pace. “You have bus to catch, no?”
MJ gazed uncomprehendingly at her.
“Bus?” she murmured.
Suddenly, she remembered: the tour to the winery was that morning.
How much did I drink last night? she wondered, shaking her head. MJ reached under her pillow and grabbed for her cell phone.
It was 9:45 AM.
“Shit!” she screamed, startling Eva, who jumped and shot her a reproving look. She leapt from the bed, rushing to get ready in a flutter of hands.
Nothing seemed to be where she had left it.
“It is okay,” Eva said with her heavy accent. “You have the time.”
MJ shook her head frantically. “The bus leaves in fifteen minutes!” she cried.
Eva chortled. “It is Italiano time, cara mia. You do not need to worry.”
MJ didn’t understand what Eva was saying, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it.
&nb
sp; Dan would be waiting for her.
He’s going to think I stood him up!
Hastily throwing on a simple sundress, MJ pulled a brush through her shoulder length hair and grabbed her purse.
“Ciao!” Eva called, and MJ managed a smile as she ran out of her room and toward the front of the inn.
To her great relief, the bus was still boarding the sprinkling of youths.
She saw Dan standing with another dark-haired boy near the door, laughing and joking.
“Ah!” he cried when he saw her, nudging his friend. “I told you she’d be here, didn’t I, mate?”
MJ tentatively approached, offering them a small smile.
“Hi,” she exhaled, trying to catch her breath. “Sorry I’m late.”
“Typical Sheila,” the friend laughed, and Dan clapped him on the back as he joined in the guffawing, like the most hilarious words ever had been spoken.
MJ bit back a caustic reply. She turned toward the door. Aghast, she noticed that Dan’s friend was also in line to board the bus, rather than just keeping Dan company.
“Is your friend coming, too?” she heard herself ask, and Dan tossed her a surprised look, raising an eyebrow.
“Sure,” he replied. “Mike hasn’t anywhere else to be today. Is that a problem?”
MJ quickly shook her head, trying to swallow her disappointment. “No, of course not,” she said. “The more, the merrier.”
So much for some one-on-one time with Dan, MJ thought, but she was beginning to wonder if that was what she really wanted.
“Fifteen euros,” the driver announced. Mike had started to step inside the bus, but he stopped as soon as he heard the driver.
“Oh,” he muttered, turning to Dan. “I didn’t realize it cost anything, mate. I can’t go.”
“Fifteen euros?” Dan echoed, looking at MJ dubiously. “Did you know that it cost so much?”
She nodded, showing him a fistful of bills. “Yes,” she replied.
Dan shook his head. “This entire country is made of wine,” he complained. “Why is it so expensive to visit one blasted winery? That is bollocks, if you ask me.”
“Are you coming or going?” the driver demanded, his sweaty face twisted into a scowl.
“Well, I haven’t enough for both of us, and I don’t want to leave my mate alone,” Dan said, turning to step off the bus along with Mike. “Have fun, though.”
MJ stared at him, her mind whirling. She didn’t mind paying for Dan, but to pay for his friend as well?
Why should I have to pay for either one of them? she asked herself sullenly, but there was no time for an inner squabble.
“Signorina!” the driver barked. “Are you coming?”
“Yes,” MJ said, making a snap decision. “I will pay for all three of us.”
She dug into her wallet for more money and handed it to the driver, who glared at the men and muttered something in Italian. MJ didn’t understand what he was saying, but she got the sentiment. She wondered if Mike and Dan did, too.
If they did, it didn’t affect their boisterous moods in the slightest, and they seated themselves together while MJ sat behind them at a window.
A spark of annoyance coursed through her. This was not going at all how she had envisioned this trip, but she willed herself not to overreact.
The words from her best friend, Ali, rang through her mind. “You’re such a drama queen,” Ali, constantly teased her. “You can’t always fly off the handle for every little thing. Sometimes things aren’t as bad as you make them out to be, you know?”
As the rickety old bus pulled away from the curb and down the bumpy road, however, MJ couldn’t help but feel she was justified in her irritation, especially when she was ignored for the first ten minutes of the trip.
And neither of them even said thank you, she realized.
She rechanneled Ali’s voice of reason.
“Hey,” Dan said, abruptly popping his head over the seat to peer at her with bright eyes. “You never did come by last night.”
She stared at him, expecting him to laugh, but she could see by his expression he was serious.
MJ didn’t even know how to respond. What was I thinking, she wondered, paying to spend the day with this idiot and his friend?
“I fell asleep,” she replied diplomatically, stifling the urge to say precisely what she wanted so she could wipe the smug expression off his face.
“Well, there’s always tonight,” he said, winking suggestively, and MJ suppressed a shudder.
This is going to be the longest day of my life, she thought miserably, crossing her arms over her chest and turning to pout out of the window.
Thankfully, the two buffoons in the neighboring seats kept themselves entertained for the remainder of the twenty-minute bus trip while MJ tried to get lost in the beatific landscape and forget about the voices around her, which were growing louder and more obnoxious with each passing mile.
Finally, the unstable vehicle made its way through an archway of trees, and MJ felt herself gasp as a tunnel of trees appeared before them, leading the way toward a sprawling villa of stone and stucco.
The vineyards stretched out on either side of the road as far as the eye could see. Despite the streaking rays of sunshine filtering through the cumulus clouds onto the endless vines, there was something… dark about the property—something that couldn’t be seen on the whitewashed walls or on the ivory fountain in the center of the drive.
The bus had become suffocating as the sun rose higher in the sky, and the two dozen passengers were grateful to spill onto the dirt wraparound, fanning themselves with newspapers and their hands.
The succulent scent of the winery filled MJ’s nostrils, and for a second, she forgot about her companions as she turned around to look at the scenery.
This country just gets better and better, she thought. I could live here forever. The notion was unexpected and inane, of course. She had one more year of college and her whole life ahead of her in… finance.
The idea of working for a bank was suddenly sickening, even more so as she saw what else the world had to offer her.
Maybe I can buy my own tiny villa and have a winery, too, she thought, losing herself in the fantasy for just a moment. Or maybe I will grow olives. I love olives.
“Well, this place is classy, isn’t it?”
Dan’s voice jarred her from her reverie, and she glanced at him, unable to muster a smile.
Before she could respond, Mike appeared out of nowhere and jumped on his friend’s back, locking his blonde head into a headlock beneath his arm. They fell to the ground, whooping, and MJ was disgusted.
They are a couple of freshman frat boys, she mused contemptuously, hurrying away before they could notice she was gone.
“Scusi! Mi scuci, signore e signori! Ascolta me, per favore!” A blonde woman stood at the stone entranceway, clapping her hands and demanding the group’s attention.
MJ slipped closer to her, trying to put as much distance as she could between her and the immature boys with whom she had come. To her relief, they didn’t seem to notice she was gone as they continued to horse around, ignoring the guide’s loud pleas.
The woman did not seem perturbed about their lack of focus, because she continued to speak.
“Buongiorno,” she greeted them once most of the group was silent, “and welcome to Lobo Nero Vineyards. My name is Simonetta, and I will be your guide today. If you follow me, I will start you with a glass of wine and a tour of our splendid and ancient property.”
There was a murmur of assent through the crowd, and Simonetta spun to enter the stunning house at her back.
What would it be like to live in such an amazing place? MJ wondered, biting on her lower lip as she took in the elegant and expensive design.
The mansion was a tantalizing mixture of old world charm and new world luxury, nothing cheap or gaudy anywhere MJ could see.
They paused inside a huge ballroom, where the crowd gasped in awe at t
he gold chandeliers hanging opulently from the ceilings. The walls were made completely of glass, boasting a stunning view of a lake just beyond the delicate walls.
“Signore Caruzzi owns this winery. His family has run this land since as long as anyone can remember, and it is the oldest property in Lucca,” Simonetta explained, gesturing toward the bar, where black and white dressed bartenders poured generous glasses of wine.
No plastic here, MJ thought, impressed, as she watched them.
She recalled the wine tasting tours she had been on in Napa Valley. This was a much better experience already.
“Please help yourselves,” Simonetta instructed, noting the hungry look in her group’s eyes. Everyone shuffled forward at once to oblige themselves, but MJ hung back, waiting for the crowd to disperse.
“Do you do functions here?” MJ asked, and Simonetta nodded, smiling.
“Signori Caruzzi is renowned for his galas and charitable events,” she replied, and MJ thought she saw a twinkle in her dark brown eyes.
She wondered if Simonetta was someone close to Mr. Caruzzi—maybe even his lover—but before she could wonder why that gave her an inexplicable pang of envy, Simonetta smiled at her.
“Signorina, you must try some of our wine,” she urged her.
At that moment, a roar of raucous laughter caught their attention, and both women turned to watch as Dan and Mike began chugging glasses of wine from the delicately stemmed glasses, one after the other.
“Dio mio,” Simonetta muttered. “So little culture.”
MJ was both furious and embarrassed.
“Excuse me,” she said tightly, rushing over to them. Once she was within earshot of the duo, she snapped, “What the hell are you doing?”
“What’s the problem?” Dan asked, grinning at her stupidly, and MJ could see he was already buzzed from drinking too fast.
Her blood began to boil.
“Can’t you show a little bit of decorum?” she barked. “This is someone’s home and livelihood! Have a bit of respect!”
Dan looked at her and then at Mike. Suddenly they both erupted into renewed peals of laughter.
“Lighten up, love!” Mike chortled. “This is supposed to be fun. Let us have some!”
“It’s supposed to be fun for everyone!” she retorted. “You’re acting like idiots and ruining it for all the other people here!”