by Diana Cachey
“They seem to love Jim Morrison here in Italy, as they do in France,” Rouge whispered to the sisters. “It sounds so fun when they sing those songs their Mediterranean way.”
“Come on baby light my fire,” he sang looking back at them after he passed.
“Another catchy tune,” said Louisa.
Songs like this sung by Venetian men echoed morning, noon and night on the streets. The three women never bored of it. The truth was that all this male attention was as catchy as the tunes. Who didn’t want to be admired, sung to, ogled, spied by handsome men with lovely accents? Barbara and Louisa enjoyed every minute of it. Rouge planned to take full advantage.
Rouge knew that Louisa had stupidly fallen for Matteo again and, holding out false hope for reconciliation, she’d do something silly -- like be faithful to him. Rouge also realized that Barbara, having fallen for her own Venetian, had kept him to herself. To Rouge, this all meant that the new Venetian Jim Morrison was hers, free for the taking.
All for Rouge, right here right now.
When the two sisters rejected him, Rouge would feign rejection too. She’d make him beg, which he would, until she relented, which she would.
I love Venice, thought Rouge. From behind the sisters, she blinked at the young Venetian with a demur smile that belied her inner vixen.
The young man turned to Rouge to let her know he saw the demur smile and happily wasn’t buying her innocence.
“No scuola oggi? No scuola, he said to Barbara. He didn’t wait for her response and walked back in their direction.
“Oh no,” Louisa said, “don’t look now but you got yourself another raggazo.”
“Signorita,” the Venetian said.
“Cosa?” (what?) said Barbara.
“No scuola?”
“Sono finito per oggi,” she told him she’d finished school for the day. Barbara thought about how to ask him, in Italian, How do you know I’m taking Italian lessons, but suspected he’d watched her go into the language school the past few days.
“Ho capito. Vuoi mangere qualcosa insieme stasera?” He asked them to dinner.
“Si,” said Louisa and Rouge in unison.
“No,” said Barbara.
He looked at them confused.
“Come no?” said Louisa, asking why Barbara had declined.
“Si, come no?” echoed the eager young man. Why would she decline his tempting offer?
“Because I have a date,” she said to Louisa and hoped he didn’t understand too much English.
Yet like the Jim Morrison songs they used as pick-up lines, certain other English words the Italian men learned fast, such as “date.”
“Ah, date?” he said. He pronounced it “dah-tay.”
“Si. Dah-tay. Mi dispace.” Sorry, said Barbara.
“Un altro volta?” Another time?
“Assolutemente si,” agreed Barbara, half-meaning it. One never knew when a Venetian boyfriend would find a replacement causing the need for one too.
I don’t have a date, I could go to dinner with him and I already said I would, thought Louisa. Yet her desire to hear about Barbara’s pending date was now a smidgeon stronger than her desire for the young man. She and Barbara shook his hand and he pulled each close, to kiss their cheeks and hand them the perfunctory phone number.
The young Venetian then past them both over, for Rouge, and whistled, Light my Fire.
Rouge said not a word but established what the sisters had come to refer to as her predatory position -- hips and rump facing the prey while the rest of her body turned away and her head glanced over shoulder at her target. Leading with the rump.
He grabbed Rouge’s arm and led her his way, she certain to have her way -- with him. In the “rump up against him” position, Rouge looked back at the sisters as if saying, “oh, what’s a girl to do?”
“How does she walk like that anyway?” Barbara tucked his phone number into her jacket pocket. I am saving all my energy, time and attention for Massimo, if he’s game. She had not stopped thinking about either her night on the beach or her brief meeting with him in San Bortolo. She had not stopped obsessing over all the things she wanted to do to him. She had not stopped dreaming about how she could read his mind or how sexy it was that he could read hers, how he talked to her without moving his mouth.
“I can read your mind, baby. You are smitten. Fer sure,” said Louisa.
Strange. Ever since Barbara had met Massimo, stuff like this kept happening, like Louisa saying she could read minds right when Barbara was thinking it.
“I know what you are thinking,” Louisa went on, eerily in sync with Barbara’s thoughts again. “You are wondering how I keep doing that. Knowing what you are thinking.”
Bizarre. Coincidence?
“Not coincidence,” Louisa said again in response to what Barbara was thinking. “Your face says it all. You have no poker face honey. You could never be a trial attorney. The jury could always read your face.”
True. No poker face. Barbara wanted one. She realized people could read her like a open book. She decided to start now and not let Louisa know her thoughts by her face.
“Oh now you’re going to try to stump me?” said Louisa.
Perhaps Louisa was plain old psychic? They were sisters after all. If Barbara was psychic, Louis could be too.
“Did you think you were the only one who was psychic?” Louisa answered her thoughts again.
Frankly yes, Barbara thought but didn’t speak it. Her face said it all.
Well, you’re not, replied Louisa without speaking, one eyebrow raised.
Normal responses? Reading faces? Finishing sentences like siblings, spouses and parents often do? Perhaps not.
Louisa and Barbara walked briskly back across Rialto bridge. They headed for a favorite pizzeria, talking excitedly about this new feat of clairvoyance. Rialto restaurant lights that twinkled perpetually on the canal had begun to fade behind them as they rounded the corner onto a dark calle, a narrow street that led to Campo San Silvestro. The campo boasted a huge chiesa and a quiet area to sit and chat. The campo seemed to be a Venetian favorite, groups of whom could usually be found there standing, smoking, laughing, kissing. Tonight the campo was still, the sounds of Rialto had vanished at the turn. Cobblestones sat silent as well as did the steps of the church.
Finally Barbara said, “What are you going to do about your ghost clues?”
Louisa noticed that whenever the topic changed to ghosts, everything else changed as well. Like it did now. Hordes of students appeared. The campo became crowded and noisy. The church’s bells began to ring loudly. The master opened its doors. Neither Louisa nor Barbara were hungry for pizza anymore.
“And what about Matteo?” Barbara added.
The wind blew hard. It slammed the church door shut. The campo grew silent again like all were trying to listen.
“I’ve got a plan,” said Louisa, “and you’re not going to like it.”
She started to tell Barbara the plan and the church bells began to chime. They rang for a long time.
The ghosts seemed to want to make sure that in case anyone was listening, no one else heard the plan. As if the bells of Venice could hide the secrets of Venice.
The bells stopped. It poured rain. The secret plan began.
Would you like to visit Venice? True or False
1. I want to find the places where Louisa’s adventures lead.
2. I want to ride down Grand Canal and not care if I miss my stop.
3. I want to try cicchetti (plus pasta and pizza).
4. I want to learn Venetian dialect or Italian.
5. I want to shop in the designer boutiques.
6. I want to mix and mingle in Saint Mark Square.
7. I want to wake up early or stay up all night to witness Venetian life at dawn.
8. My favorite male character is Matteo.
9. My favorite female character is Rouge.
10. I believe in ghosts, why or why not? Share your s
tories at http://www.WhatHappensInVenice.com.
For Venetian Ghost Party or any other event
What is a cicchetti? Pronounced “cha-KET-tey,” they are Venetian finger food or appetizers -- bite-sized snacks served mostly in bars and osterias, frequently eaten with happy hour cocktails, like the spritz, (sparkling Italian wine with Campari) or ombra (a small glass of wine). Sampled by locals from bar to bar or made into plates for a casual lunches or dinner, cic-chetti options can be many things: fresh grilled, marinated or fried seafood and vegetables, cheeses and cured meats served on small pieces of bread, light salads, peppers, sardines, meatballs and more.
To make at home – especially for your ghost-themed party -choose several foods to enjoy, prepare in advance then serve at room temperature, chilled or lightly warmed.
Here are easy favorites:
1. Mix and match as desired then stick together with toothpicks or serve on slices of Italian baguette -- Salami, ham, prosciutto with cheeses like parmesan, mozzarella, provolone, gorgonzola.
2. Boiled eggs -- peel and quarter. Garnish with olive slices, pimento, hot sauce, chives.
3. Tuna, broccoli, chopped artichoke salads or creamed spinach, served on bread. Garnish.
4. Wrap an anchovy around a cocktail onion. Secure with a toothpick.
5. Wrap prosciutto or other meat around rosemary sprinkled breadsticks.
6. Stack artichoke hearts, peppers, and cheese then secure with toothpick.
7. Use favorite meatball recipe. Top with barbecue sauce, spicy tomato or Swedish gravy.
8. Stuff some mushrooms, peppers or cherry tomatoes.
9. Make fancier Venetian favorites: Grilled Polenta with Baccala (salt cod mouse); Risotto al Nero con Scampi (rice in squid ink topped with shrimps); Sarde-in-Saor (fried sardines sauteed in raisins and onion).
10. The options are endless. Create your own versions.
COMING SOON!
What Happens In Venice -- Book Three
Magic Island
by Diana Cachey
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D iana Cachey is a licensed attorney, published academic, and former adjunct law professor. She also holds a BA in English, and while in law school, she was the first female editor-in-chief of her university’s law review.
The author of the novels Love Spirits and Lagoon Lure, Cachey trained with several New York Times best-selling writers whose sales total more than 70 million books. She has built a social media platform with over 100,000 Twitter users, and her popular YouTube channel featuring secret Venice locations has received over 500,000 views.
For more than a decade, Cachey has traveled to Venice, the setting of her novels, on extended trips several times a year. The cafés, restaurants, and many other haunts of Venice play a prominent role in her sexy paranormal mystery-romance series about a beautiful American lawyer guided by the Ghosts of Venice in the investigation of a hushed-up crime. Find out more about Venice and its secrets, www.dianacachey.com and www.whathappensinvenice.com.