The Scent of Rome

by Lise Gold

  Rome greeted the receptionist and the security guard and stepped into the elevator. Apparently, it was quite a big deal when a new team took over the third floor, which was now off-limits to the rest of the company, as Nero wanted to keep the project top-secret until its launch. Rome’s team members had signed non-disclosure agreements, prohibiting them from talking about the Carbon project with anyone outside their circle of business-related partners.

  Curious glances were cast her way as they went up, along with good mornings and smiles. Rome greeted her fellow passengers back and wished them a nice day in Italian, like she’d practiced before she came here. Thankfully, her team was international, so all their meetings were in English.

  “Good morning, guys,” she said to the ten people sitting behind their desks, feeling entirely comfortable around them after last night’s drinks. Another four were already in her office, and her assistant handed her a coffee when she walked in. “Wow, thank you. I’m sorry, am I late?”

  “Nope,” Jonathan said as he connected his iPad to the screen behind her desk. “We’re all just eager. First week and all,” he joked. “Although my head is a little sore from last night.”

  “Yeah, mine too.” Rome chuckled and sat down on the couch next to the Eliza and two marketing executives. “So, I’ve heard you’re quite the genius, Jonathan, and I’m excited to hear about your ideas. Are we going to run through the timelines and set some dates for presentations?”

  “We can do that.” Jonathan grinned as he opened a presentation on the screen, the first page showing a 3-D rendering of an exclusive looking black credit card, its logo changing each time it flipped around. “But I’ve already been working on some ideas, so I’ve asked the other creative members to join us in case there’s anything that excites you.”

  Rome stared at the screen, open-mouthed. “What is this? I mean, when did you do this?”

  “Overnight, while I was slightly drunk. I haven’t slept yet.” His smile widened. “I can’t stop once I start; it’s both a curse and a blessing.”

  “It looks amazing.” Rome was silent for a long moment, still baffled by the slick visual and the wide selection of fantastic logo varieties.

  “It’s just a rough mock-up,” Jonathan said, holding up a hand. “Once you’ve narrowed down your selection, I’ll do some more in-depth designs, but that will take more time.”

  At that, Rome and the others laughed. “I’m sorry.” Rome sat back, resisting the urge to hug him. “Just so we’re clear, these are ‘rough mock-ups’ you did while you were drunk?” She shook her head incredulously when he nodded.

  “Hey, they weren’t lying when they said the boy’s a genius,” Eliza said.

  “No, most certainly not. I’m seriously impressed.” Rome could hardly believe how lucky she was with people like Jonathan who were able to make her vision become a reality. He’d taken her clumsy scribbles and made them ten times better and more commercial, respecting the original idea. “Okay. I love everything I see, so please talk us through your designs.” She turned to the others. “I’m by no means a creative so I’ll trust you guys and I’d like Jonathan to take the lead on this.”

  26

  “Ciao, Angelo.” Nadine sat down in front of the shabby trattoria where Angelo had suggested they meet.

  “Ciao bella.” He put down two espressos before taking a seat opposite her, crossing one leg over the other as he looked at her quizzically, rubbing his thumb over his rugged jawline.

  They’d never met up like this before and Nadine shifted in her chair, conscious of their strange relationship and a little uncomfortable with the vague proposal she was about to lay out for him. “Come stai?”

  “I’m good. But let’s talk in English, please. I don’t want my family to listen in.” Angelo’s brows furrowed, clearly confused as to why Nadine was here. “What’s going on? Do we have a problem?” He wedged a hand under his beanie and scratched his head, looking worried.

  Nadine shook her head, eyeing the shady looking figures at the neighboring table on the terrace and wondering if he was related to them. “No, we don’t. But a friend of mine might.”

  “Okay.” He stirred two bags of sugar through his brew before meeting her gaze. “Tell me.”

  “My friend Rome…” Nadine added sugar to her espresso too, then sipped it carefully, moaning at the full-bodied flavor. “Damn, this is good stuff.”

  “Yeah, it’s the best.” Angelo chuckled at her unexpected enthusiasm, then went straight back to business. “So, your friend...?”

  “Yes, you saw her a few weeks back when I was out with that big, bald Italian man. The woman in the blue dress.”

  “I know who you mean. You wanted me to take pictures.”

  “That’s right. And I probably won’t need them, but please don’t delete them either.” Nadine paused, still not sure where she was going with this. She’d come completely unprepared and hadn’t thought her plan through properly. “Anyway, Rome will be going out again with the man who was sitting next to her that night. His name is Matteo Romano. I don’t know the details, but I have her address and it’s likely he’ll send a car over around eight. I’d like you to follow her to the venue and keep an eye on him during their dinner, make sure he doesn’t do something he shouldn’t.” She bit her lip and looked longingly at Angelo’s cup. For a place that looked like it was about to fall apart, the coffee was exceptional. “I think he might be a bit ‘grabby’ if you know what I mean.”

  Angelo smiled as he noticed her envious stare. He leaned back in his chair to open the door and shouted over his shoulder for someone to bring out another espresso. “And if he gets grabby?”

  With a smile on his face, Angelo didn’t seem so intimidating anymore, Nadine thought. His prominent nose scrunched, and dimples appeared in his cheeks that were partially covered by a dark stubble. “If he does…” Nadine felt sick at the thought of Rome getting hurt in any way. “Then maybe you could stop him and rough him up a little?” She lowered her gaze to Angelo’s big biceps. “Pretend that you’re mugging him? I’ll pay you more of course, assuming that’s how it works?”

  Angelo shook his head and laughed out loud. “I can’t do that. Who do you think I am? Taking pictures is one thing, physically hurting people is another. That’s not my business.”

  “I apologize.” Nadine tilted her head and hesitated as she regarded him. “But you know people in that business?”

  Again, he shook his head. “Trust me. You don’t want to get involved with people like that. Only trouble will come from it.”

  Nadine sighed, her mind spinning with potential risks and doom scenarios. “Then could you just keep an eye on them, and let me know where they are? If anything happens, call me, okay?” she finally said. “At least if I’m close by, I can take care of it myself.”

  Angelo gave her a confused look, then shrugged. “Okay, I can do that. But what if he hurts you?”

  “He won’t.”

  “Whatever you say. Just be careful. Is Rome a good friend?”

  “Yeah, she is.” Nadine wasn’t actually sure if they were good friends. They hardly knew each other, and it had felt a little strange between them since their last dinner with Rome’s investors. But no matter how much she analyzed their strange yet passionate relationship, she knew one thing for sure: she cared deeply for Rome and she felt protective of her.

  “It’s nice of you to look out for her.” Angelo shot up and straightened when an elderly lady in an apron came out and started yelling at him after putting down Nadine’s second espresso. His relaxed demeanor was gone, replaced by something that looked closer to fear, Nadine thought with an amused smirk as she watched the big man before her shrink like a wilting flower. The woman yelled some more, then went back inside, slamming the door shut behind her.

  “So that was your mom…,” she concluded, after overhearing the conversation. “And she wants you to peel the potatoes?” Nadine snickered, barely able to stop herself from bursting out in l
aughter. Here was big, scary Angelo—the man the other girls from her agency had recommended but assured her not to get personally involved with as he could be dangerous—being given an earful by his mother. The men at the table next to them were laughing too and told him in Italian to get his ass inside.

  Angelo blushed and ignored them. “Yep. That was my mom,” he grunted. “I’m supposed to help out in the kitchen today; our chef is at a wedding.” He stood up and waved his phone at her. “Text me her details. I’ll be done by six; my brother will be taking over from me so I’m available tonight.” He lingered on the spot, hesitating.

  “Do you like food?”

  Nadine spread her arms in a dramatic gesture. “Do I like food? What kind of question is that? Of course I like food, who doesn’t?”

  “Never mind. I know you do; I’ve been watching you eat for years.” He laughed. “That’s why I asked. We do great gnocchi. Want to try some?”

  Noting she was feeling hungry, Nadine nodded and smiled. “I do. But please let me pay for it. And for the espressos.”

  “Absolutely not, this is my family joint. It might not look the part, but our food is great, and I want you to try it.”

  “Okay. Thank you, I’d be honored to try your mom’s gnocchi.” Nadine waved as he disappeared inside, then sat back to enjoy the sun and her delicious brew. It was strange that in all the years they’d known each other, they’d never actually had a real conversation, and she decided she liked Angelo. Going on the smell that wafted from the kitchen window, she knew she was going to like the food, too.

  27

  “This is a rather…” Rome looked around as they followed the waiter. “…cozy place to discuss business, don’t you think?” She’d read up on the intimate restaurant in the city center before she left the office. It was not only known for its three Michelin stars, but also for its reputation as a popular place to propose.

  “Maybe. But the food is good, and we all need to eat, right?” Matteo pointed at her blazer. “Aren’t you warm?”

  Rome shook her head. “I’m fine, I think I’ll keep it on.” She’d purposely not dressed up and insisted she meet him straight from work. Perhaps her jeans and blazer would make it clear she wasn’t interested, although she was pretty sure she’d been very clear all along.

  “Whatever you want.” Matteo discussed something with the waiter, then pulled out a chair for her. Rome hadn’t objected when Nadine had done that. In fact, it had made her giddy, and she’d felt special. But with Matteo, she didn’t like the chivalry. “You look beautiful tonight.”

  Rome gave him a polite smile. “Come on, Matteo. I’ve come straight from work. And although I’m happy to take a compliment, I have a feeling all this…” She gestured around the small dining room where candlelight flickered, and a pianist was playing romantic tunes. “Well, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. This will always be a purely professional relationship.”

  “Of course.” Matteo stared at her for a moment, clearly taken aback by her directness. Then he tilted his head and shot her a puzzled look. “Rome… I think you’re the one who’s got the wrong idea here, not me. I’m a happily married man.”

  Rome sighed. This was not going well. Now he’d managed to make her look silly for defending herself which, of course, had been his intention all along. And I walked right into that trap. “Great,” she finally said. “Then there must have been a misunderstanding. I suppose I didn’t get why you wanted to go for dinner tonight as there’s nothing left to discuss. The team is fantastic, we’re going full steam ahead, and you’ll get your update at the monthly board meeting.”

  “But I’m putting all my faith in you, Rome. I know nothing about this technology, and I prefer more detailed updates, that’s just how I work. I may not be part of your team, but I put that team together for you, and I’m within my rights to ask questions. Besides that, I thought you could do with a friend, being here by yourself. Moving to another country can be lonely; I spent two years in Japan myself, so I know how it feels.”

  “Yes, of course you’re entitled to ask questions at any time.” Rome tried not to sound irritated. She knew exactly what he was doing; turning the tables on her so she’d feel bad for accusing him of wanting to sleep with her. He had backed her into a corner yet again and now she had to apologize, even if it was just out of politeness. “And I’m sorry; I didn’t mean it like that. It’s very kind of you to take me out but believe me, I have no problem being on my own. I’m sure your wife misses you enough as it is, with all those networking dinners you have to attend.”

  “My wife has many friends and keeps herself busy with our family. She’s used to me being away.” Matteo looked over the wine list and ordered a bottle of champagne to share and a double Scotch for himself.

  “I suppose so.” Rome didn’t really feel like drinking champagne, especially not with Matteo, but she let it slide. “So, you lived in Japan? How was that?” she asked.

  “What can I say?” He grimaced. “I’m from Rome. I like the good life and love wine, music, real food. I don’t do raw fish and warm alcohol.”

  “Right.” Rome thought back to her week in Tokyo, where she’d pitched her app last year. She’d loved the city and although the investors had kindly declined the collaboration, they’d been courteous, polite and they certainly hadn’t tried to hit on her. She quickly decided to focus on a more positive subject matter. “Do you have kids?”

  “Yes, my wife and I have two children. Two daughters; they’re twelve and sixteen, and I also have a twenty-eight-year-old son from my first marriage. He grew up with his mother in Japan, but he visits sometimes.”

  “That’s nice.” Rome thought if safest to keep the conversation around Matteo’s family to remind him of them. “And do you visit him in Japan?”

  Matteo shook his head. “No. As I said, I’m not a big fan of Japan. I only went there for work and ended up staying longer because of Yoki. Yoki is my ex-wife,” he clarified. “But it’s long in the past, now.” He nodded to the waiter, who brought over his Scotch and downed half of it while their flutes were being filled. “What about you? Boyfriend? I noticed you’re not wearing a wedding ring.”

  “No, I’m single.” Rome opened her menu. “I don’t have time to date, especially not now.” She cleared her throat and straightened herself before she got down to business. “So, tell me. What did you want to know?”

  Their conversation felt forced over dinner, with Matteo clearly making up questions as he went along while drinking way more than he should, and Rome answering everything in detail while he zoned out, occasionally looking at her cleavage. He kept bringing the subject back to Rome and dating, with inappropriate remarks about the absence of sex and intimacy when single, and Rome kept going back to the Carbon app. He was slurring his words a little now, and as she put her spoon down next to her tiramisu, she was grateful the night was almost over. Dinner was never a short affair in Italy, and although the food was delicious, sitting through four courses with Matteo had felt like she’d entered an endurance contest. She was glad she’d been clear from the beginning, because even though he was still unprofessional, there was no way there could be any misunderstanding now. Although the night had been a pain in the ass, at least it was unlikely he would ask her out again. She’d had a glass of champagne and a glass of red wine, and Matteo had polished off the rest of the bottles, after two more large glasses of Scotch. When he ordered espresso and grappa, she suppressed a sigh, knowing she’d be here for another twenty minutes at least. It wasn’t up to her to comment on his drinking though; she’d leave that to his wife.

  “I’ll call a cab for us,” Matteo said after he’d paid. “We can drop you off home first.”

  “There’s no need. I live close by, so I’ll just walk back. I like walking.” Rome stood up. “Thank you for dinner. I hope I’ve managed to clear things up for you.” She seriously doubted he’d taken in a word she’d said.

  “Yes, this was very helpful.” Matteo pu
t his hand on her lower back as they walked out into the alleyway where the restaurant was situated. “Let me at least walk you to the main street. It’s not safe here for a woman on her own.”

  Rome wanted to say she’d felt nothing but safe since the day she’d arrived in Rome, but she had no energy left for a discussion. It was late and she just wanted to get home, run a hot bath and soak off the nasty aftertaste of Matteo’s company. “Sure. Thank you.”

  They passed a man who was smoking a cigarette while talking to someone on the phone, and she followed him with her eyes, trying to remember if she’d seen him before. There was something familiar about him, but then again, he also looked like a typical Italian, so she could easily have mistaken him for someone in the office, or one of her neighbors. When Matteo’s hand pressed harder into her back and his fingers curled around her waist, Rome had had enough. After all her efforts, he was not giving up and it was making her furious.

  “Please take your hand away,” she said sternly, turning to him. “It makes me feel uncomfortable and you have no business touching me like that.” Matteo narrowed his eyes as if he couldn’t quite believe what she was saying. When he made no effort to remove it, Rome took his hand and removed it herself, then stepped away from him.

  “You American girls,” he said with sarcasm dripping through his voice. “You all think you’re so precious.”

  “Not wanting to be touched has nothing to do with being precious. Just keep your hands off me and we won’t have a problem.” Rome walked away from him, but he caught up and took her wrist, forcing her to turn back around. “Let go of me, Matteo, or I swear you’ll be in trouble.” She tried to free herself, but he was stronger and much bigger than her. Panic hit her when she realized she wasn’t prepared for this, and she wouldn’t be able to get away unless she kicked him where it hurt.