To Tuscany with Love

by Gail Mencini

  Bella giggled and pushed Phillip out of bed. “You better get some clothes on before he comes in.” She threw the quilt over her head and curled into a ball over the warm spot in the center of the bed.

  Bella heard muffled male voices. She couldn’t pick out many of the words, but she thought Phillip said “due,” followed by a double “grazie” from the other man. A few more words were exchanged, and then she heard the door close.

  “Since we obviously missed the train to the beach, I paid for a second night here. I figure by tomorrow we might, just might, be ready to come up for air.”

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Bella pulled the covers tighter over her head.

  She felt the bed tilt when Phillip sat on the side of the bed closest to the door.

  “Not a chance.”

  “I ... need ... food.” Bella sang the words, tossing off the covers and throwing her arms into the air as if she were in the finale at the grand opera.

  “Madam.” Phillip swept his arm in the direction of the door. On the floor in front of the door sat a wooden tray holding a plate of hard rolls, a tiny saucer of fruit preserves, and two cups of cappuccino topped with caramel-colored foam. “You’re in luck. Our host decided it was time to deliver our breakfast.”

  By lunchtime, they needed to venture out for more food. They devoured roast chicken so tender it fell away from the bone. It was juicy and flavorful, satisfying and seductive. Two full carafes of house wine disappeared before dessert. Their conversation bounced between formulating giggly concoctions of why they had missed the trip to the beach, teasing each other, and marveling at the food, all punctuated by intertwined fingertips and smiles.

  Sunday afternoon, they stood hand in hand, waiting for the bus to Florence. Bella’s cheeks warmed under Phillip’s stare. She was falling for him. Hard. She silently asked him the question they’d skirted all weekend. What now? Had what started as a sodden, spontaneous romp evolved into something that would continue after they returned home?

  Phillip nodded, as if he had heard her question. “We’ll see each other after we leave Italy. We will.”

  “We live on opposite sides of the country.” The logistics of that kind of long-distance relationship were challenging, but so was the immediate issue. Stillman. Bella didn’t want to be with Stillman anymore. How would she tell him? What would she tell him?

  Phillip’s arms circled her, his hands clasping at the small of her back. “Have faith.” His lips brushed hers. A grin split his face. “Hey, aren’t you the Catholic girl I picked up in a church?”

  13

  Bella dreaded seeing Stillman. What could she say? You didn’t show up, so I climbed into bed with Phillip? She’d been flattered that the two of them had competed for her attention all summer, and yes, she was attracted to both. If Stillman cared for her as a person, rather than merely as a girl to have sex with, he’d get over it.

  So why did she dread seeing Stillman?

  The truth of it was that while this weekend with Phillip might have started as a spontaneous roll in the sack, for her now, it was something altogether different. It surprised her. More than that, it shocked and scared her. How could she feel this way after only one weekend together? Maybe it was because he was her first. That’s what she tried to tell herself, anyway.

  Bella knew one thing. She didn’t want to sleep with Stillman, not now. All she wanted was to be with Phillip, to feel the warmth of his hand holding hers, the touch of his fingers tucking her curls behind her ear, and the caress of his palm on her back. She wanted to climb back into bed with him and not surface until the end of the summer. Beyond that, she didn’t allow herself to think about everything she wanted, because everything involved him. Involved Phillip.

  Bella sat in the lobby of their building, waiting for the group to join her for the walk to the bar for espresso. She prayed that Phillip would be the first to come downstairs, so they could face the others’ questions together. Maybe Phillip had even talked to Stillman late last night after the others returned from the beach.

  While she and Phillip had gotten back in time for dinner, the rest of the group didn’t show up until after midnight. When Hope had returned to their room, Bella had glanced at her bedside alarm clock while her roommate undressed. She had pretended to be sound asleep, since she wasn’t ready to share details about her weekend with Phillip.

  Damn. Just her luck, Stillman was the first to join her in the lobby.

  He paused for a moment, and then walked over to Bella. He leaned down and raised her chin with his hand. Without a word of greeting, he touched his lips to hers. “I’m sorry I missed our date. When I rejoined the land of the living Friday, you had already gone.”

  He kissed her again, parting her lips. His tongue flicked against hers, as his fingers stroked the tender skin under her chin. He pulled back and leaned close to her ear. “Forgive me? I want a rain check on our date—a day and a night with you.” His whispered words and tone asked for more than forgiveness. The insinuated invitation hung in the air between them.

  Not at all what she was expecting from him. She had steeled herself for anger and accusations, or maybe the cold shoulder treatment, but not this. Didn’t he know about her weekend with Phillip? “I ... I’m glad you’re OK.” He looked rested and tanned from the weekend on the beach. His Friday flu bug must have passed quickly for him to join the others when they left on Saturday.

  She didn’t know what to say to him. His eyes bore into hers as if he could read her mind. She had to change the subject. “How was the beach? Were the Italian ladies nude, or merely topless?” It had been the center of the guys’ discussion the week before—the mode of dress of the Italian girls, and if their unshaved armpits would be a turnoff.

  He took a step back and snorted. “Topless—even the saggy-boobed old ladies, who had no business exposing their chests or fat bellies.” Raising his eyebrows, he said, “There were a few knockouts, though. Too bad you couldn’t join them.” His finger snaked down her shoulder, over her collarbone, circling lower and lower toward her breasts.

  Damn, her nipples came to attention with his touch. She grabbed his hand. “Stillman—”

  “Good morning,” Phillip said. He crossed the small lobby and stood next to Bella.

  “Hi.” Bella’s voice squeaked as if she were a boy whose voice was changing. She looked up at Phillip but couldn’t read him. He didn’t kiss her, didn’t even touch her, in fact. Her eyes pleaded with him to say something.

  Stillman clapped Phillip on the shoulder. “You missed a hell of a good time at the beach.” He gave a low-pitched wolf whistle. “Those Italian chicks were something.” He nodded at Phillip with a wink. “I’ll fill you in later, man.”

  “Sure.” Phillip fake-punched Stillman. “Love to hear it.”

  Was Phillip going to pretend nothing had happened? Worse yet, did it mean nothing to him? His silence and distance shocked her. Here she was, breathless with desire at the mere sight of him, and he all but ignored her. Where was her tender, sexy lover of the weekend?

  Confused and hurt, she stood up and stumbled to the front door. She had to get out of there. She needed time alone to sort this out. Did he regret their lovemaking? Or was she merely the sought-after prize that was won and then discarded?

  “Wait.” Phillip crossed the room in big steps. He grabbed her hand and stopped her exodus. He looked back at Stillman and said, “Glad you had a good weekend.” Then he led Bella outside by the hand.

  She waited until they were almost to the corner before her anger erupted. “Why didn’t you tell Stillman about us? You pretended like nothing happened. Didn’t this weekend mean anything to you? You know he was coming on to me.” Her chest heaved, and her face flushed. Was she mistaken about Phillip? “I thought something happened, more than just sex, this weekend. But I guess you don’t feel that way.”

  Phillip stopped. He put both of his hands on her shoulders. “First off, a gentleman never kisses and tells. Second, I
know he was coming on to you, which is why I got you the hell out of there. Third, you don’t know what I feel, so don’t assume I don’t care, or that this weekend didn’t mean anything. I do care.” He looked away and lowered his head, his whispered words now aimed at the sidewalk. “I care about you.”

  And how was that response supposed to make her feel? His words were exactly what she wanted to hear, but why did he look away when he spoke? Why couldn’t he look at her eyes?

  He pulled her into a bar and walked up to the counter, ordering and paying for two espressos and ciabatta rolls. They downed the espressos while standing at the bar. Phillip handed her a roll. “Let’s walk.”

  They ate their rolls in silence as he led her to the Piazza della Signoria. He stopped in front of the replica of Michelangelo’s David. It took all the patience she had to let him talk first.

  “The weekend took me by surprise. Despite what you think, I didn’t take you to Castellina-in-Chianti to sleep with you.”

  But that’s sure as hell what happened, she thought. So, tell me what you’re thinking and why you’re being evasive. Please.

  Phillip studied her face. He traced his thumb over her forehead and smoothed her hair over her ears. “I admit to the competition thing with Stillman. But it wasn’t only about beating him. I wanted time with you. Alone.” He kissed her nose. “But I never thought we’d have that kind of a relationship. I didn’t plan to sleep with you. I merely wanted one day to be with you, and no one else.”

  He wanted a day. Instead, he got her virginity.

  A sick feeling swept over Bella. Damn it. She’d projected her feelings onto him. That’s why he acted so aloof in front of Stillman. Was this where he’d say, “I really care about you, but what I said about staying together isn’t realistic”?

  She stomped to the nearest trash container and chucked in her half-eaten roll. She spun to face him. “So why did you sleep with me? What was that about? A leading home run in the contest with Stillman?”

  He joined her in fast, long strides, finally grabbing her forearm and pulling her into him. His lips crushed against hers. His other hand pushed the back of her head, trapping her lips against his.

  Locked tight against Phillip, Bella felt the rhythmic pounding of a heart. Was it hers, his, or merely the coursing of her blood through her veins? As suddenly as he had locked her in an embrace, he released her. Bella stumbled back, rubbing her bruised lips.

  “You don’t ... know ... what I feel,” Phillip said. “You can’t. So, stop it. Stop pinning things on me.” He reached for her, kissing her again with an urgency that startled her.

  When he pulled back his head, Bella didn’t move. She opened her eyes and stared at him.

  “Did I hurt you?” Phillip asked.

  When? Bella thought. With the bruising kiss? When I lost my virginity to you? No, and no. Her chest heaved with her breaths. He was giving her mixed messages. Kissing her like that, but then accusing her of pinning things on him. “Please, tell me how you feel, so I don’t ‘pin things on you.’”

  His right hand slid up her arm toward her face. When his fingertips reached her cheek, she pulled her head away.

  Phillip met her fiery eyes. “Oh, Bella.” Pain laced his whispered words. “If I’ve hurt you, please forgive me.” Anguish shadowed his face. “Bella. I am so sorry.”

  He caught his breath and then the words rushed out as if in a downhill tumble. “I didn’t intend to sleep with you, because, well, for a lot of reasons. I wanted to, though. I’ve wanted you all summer, but I figured I couldn’t be with you, not that way. You were off-limits. But then, the rain, and your shirt, and ... and I couldn’t think of anything but making love with you. Bella, please forgive me for hurting you. I hate myself for letting that happen. But I can’t control how I feel.”

  Something about his tone of voice and his eyes comforted her. He had apologized and seemed sincere about it.

  She knew one thing. She had to find out how he felt about her. Being this close to him took her breath away and planted a gut-deep need to spend every waking and sleeping moment with him. If he didn’t feel that way about her, it was better that she knew it sooner rather than later, wasn’t it? She inhaled sharply and kept her voice as level as possible. “So. Phillip. How do you feel about me?”

  His eyes met hers. “I love you.”

  14

  Late that afternoon, Bella did it. She asked Stillman to go for a coffee with her, and she told him about Phillip. Well, not everything. She told him that she had decided to be with Phillip and that she couldn’t date two guys at the same time.

  Stillman slammed one palm against the tiny table in the coffee bar. “Did Mr. Wonderful tell you why I wasn’t there on time for our date?”

  Bella nodded. “He explained how sick you were, and I wanted to come see you, to find out if I could help. But Phillip told me you’d finally fallen asleep after throwing up for hours and said I should let you rest.” She grabbed one of his hands. “I felt awful you were so sick. Thank God it was only the twenty-four-hour flu.”

  Stillman’s face turned red. He opened his mouth to talk but closed it without saying anything. Then he looked down at her hand holding his. He squeezed her hand and looked up at her. “He told you I was really sick, and yet you wanted to come see me?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re my friend and I love you.” Bella knew she had to choose her words with care. He was her friend, and she did love him, but it was different from the way she felt about Phillip.

  She drew a deep breath. “This weekend, I realized I can’t be with two guys at once. I’m going to date Phillip, which means I can’t be with you, not like we’ve been. You guys asked to me choose one of you, and I didn’t want to do that, because I care for you both. You were right, though.” Bella squeezed his hand. “I hate this. Please know that I love you, but as my very dear friend.”

  “So there’s no chance for me? None? Under any circumstance?”

  “No.”

  Stillman looked out the window. After what seemed an eternity to Bella, he turned back and faced her.

  Stillman spoke in a quiet, even voice. “I promised my mother two things before she died. To study hard, and to do right by those I love.”

  This was it, then. The end of the summer semester in Italy. These last days of the semester, she and Phillip had been inseparable. They had spent nearly every waking hour together, making love in the few stolen moments when they knew they had a room to themselves and talking about how Phillip would come to visit her before the end of the summer. Bella couldn’t wait for her mom to meet Phillip. He was everything her mother would want for her.

  Not surprisingly, Bella hadn’t spent much time with Stillman since her talk with him. They were all together for the group lessons and activities, and Stillman was always friendly, even joking with her and Phillip. But that was all. Bella and Stillman had never been alone again.

  Bella sighed, half-heartedly folding the last of her blouses and tossing it on top of the stack of clothing that rose four inches over the rim of her worn suitcase. She remembered the empty bag Karen and Meghan had shown up with that first day and how foolish she had thought they looked. She didn’t need an entire empty bag, but she’d bust the hinges on her suitcase if she didn’t shrink that messy pile of blouses and skirts.

  A light rap of knuckles against her door sent her skipping to open it.

  Bella launched herself into Phillip’s arms. She clutched him as tightly as she could, her lips insistent against his, demanding. How could she leave Italy when it meant leaving Phillip? He met her kisses with matched fervor. His hands roved over her backside, pressing her even tighter against him. A groan escaped Phillip’s lips.

  “Excuse me, lovebirds.” Meghan’s soft voice next to them finally pried them apart.

  Phillip turned, drawing Bella against his side.

  “I’m rounding everyone up for a group photo in fifteen minutes,
” Meghan said. “And the driver said we need to have our luggage with us so we’re ready to blast off after the picture.”

  “Shit.” Phillip’s arm slid off Bella’s shoulders. “I better pack. It’ll take me at least fifteen to finish.”

  Bella playfully pushed him away. “Get cracking, then. I’ve got a towering mound of clothes to deal with myself.”

  “I’ll help you, Bella.” Meghan smiled with a wistful look on her face.

  Once back in the room, Meghan took one look at Bella’s messy pile and scooped the clothes out of the case and onto the bed. Meghan turned into a packing machine, folding and sorting clothes with precision. Neat stacks, sorted by type of garment, covered the bed. Army precision guided the mechanics of Meghan’s folding and sorting, but her face bore a weary sadness.

  Bella recognized herself in Meghan’s expression. “You’re going through the same thing, aren’t you? Leaving Lee, I mean.” Bella sat with her legs folded underneath her on a corner of the bed, out of Meghan’s way.

  Meghan shook her downcast head. She stopped folding and met Bella’s gaze. “We’re breaking up.”

  “What? Why?”

  “I told him we had to. He wants to get into med school, and when he does, it’ll be even tougher on him, with studying and trying to work on the side whenever he can. He doesn’t need, and can’t afford, the luxury of an out-of-town girlfriend.” Meghan inhaled so deeply that her chest rose and fell visibly. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “We agreed that if we’re meant to be together, it’ll happen someday. Just not now.” She bit her lower lip and silently returned to folding Bella’s summer garb.

  Bella sprang up and threw her arms around Meghan. “No. Don’t give up so easily. You could always go visit him at school, couldn’t you? And can’t you move to be with him in med school?”