He was right. I’d figured I’d live on my memories of this trip for the rest of my life. But what if there was more out there for me? I’d cautioned Frannie over and over to step away from work to enjoy the world. Yet my focus was on home and family. Was it really quite different after all? It was just what we both chose as our safe shelter to avoid dealing with the unknown.
“I’ll think about it, Milton.”
“Good.” He pressed the paper into my palm and closed my fingers around it. The touch of his hand brought a solid, comforting warmth my soul recognized and remembered. “Email me. I’d love to know about the rest of your trip and your time in Tuscany.”
“Thank you. Enjoy the rest of your tour.” He insisted on paying the check, and he stood while I left. For a few seconds, we stared at each other and smiled, acknowledging the incredible evening we’d shared.
When I got back, it was almost eleven. I changed into my pajamas and washed up, and soon Allegra arrived home.
“Hi, Nonni! We had the best time! We walked by the bridge and got dinner at this adorable little place with the best pasta in the world, and guess what! We went on a gondola ride!”
I adored her flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes and the first signs of love sketched on her beautiful face. I sat on the edge of the bed beside her and felt my own heart soar with excitement. “Oh, it sounds amazing! How was it at night?”
“So beautiful.” She sighed. “The canal was lit up and people were singing and I felt like I was in a movie. Ian’s so nice. We talked and talked nonstop. Do you know he wants to be a priest?”
I blinked. “A priest? No, sweetheart, I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah, he’s heading into the seminary after the summer, but he’s going to Assisi after the tour, and when I told him we would be in Tuscany, he asked if maybe he can drive over and stay for a day. Do you think Mom would be okay with that?”
My mind whirled, but I nodded. “I’m sure it will. We can both talk to her.”
“Good. Oh, and we found this bakery and I got a coconut gelato with a biscotti and it was sick good.”
She chattered on for a while, and I savored every second. A priest? My granddaughter’s first big crush and he was off-limits. Of course, he was in Ireland anyway, so nothing could be pursued. It was a sweet summer romance that would change her, even if there was hurt afterward. And though I’d do anything to save her from heartbreak, I knew love and loss needed to be experienced in order to grow. Hopefully, she understood there was only one ending for them both, and it would be bittersweet rather than true heartbreak.
Then again, no one could help whom they loved.
“Honey, text your mom and let her know you’re home safe.”
She rolled her eyes but didn’t give me guff. Her thumbs flew over the tiny screen and I shook my head with amazement at her dexterity. “Done. I’m going to hop in the shower,” she said, heading into the bathroom.
I decided to grab my own phone and text Frannie myself, but it took me a much longer time than it did Allegra. Immediately, I saw the three dots.
Did she have a good time?
I decided to wait to tell her about Ian’s future occupation until we were face-to-face. Yes, great time. She’ll give you all the details tomorrow.
So happy. I’ll be home later—let me know if you need me.
We’re good, heading to bed. Have fun.
Allegra and I talked for a bit longer after her shower, and then she fell asleep with her phone next to her pillow and a smile on her face. I read for a while but then finally got up to get a glass of water. Of course, the water was tepid and I craved it cold. Tamping down a sigh, I pulled on my robe and slippers and grabbed the bucket to get ice. At least it was just down the hallway.
I opened the door quietly and stepped out.
Then froze.
Frannie and Enzo stood a few feet down the hallway, locked in a passionate kiss. Her back was pressed against the door, arms wrapped around his neck, their mouths fused together like lovers who couldn’t bear to be parted from each other. I eased slowly back, terrified they’d spot me, and peeked around the corner.
They broke the kiss and stared at each other. I held my breath, afraid to move or shatter the spell.
Her door opened and they both stepped inside.
Then it shut.
Head spinning, I forgot about my water and retreated to my room. How hadn’t I seen it? How long had the affair been going on? Finally, Frannie was enjoying a passionate romance, but as much as I’d hoped she’d hook up with Enzo, the reality worried me. It was obvious they needed to hide the relationship—probably to protect his job. Would they be able to easily say goodbye in a few days? Was it serious or just a casual fling?
My daughter rarely broke her stringent rules and I was sure one of them forbade her from engaging in an illicit romance with her tour guide. Which meant she really liked him.
Or more.
I climbed into bed and lay for hours, staring up at the ceiling, thinking of the two women I loved with my heart and soul. Two men had suddenly come into their lives unexpectedly. I was a firm believer that God gave us what we needed, not necessarily what we wanted. It was too big to be a general coincidence that they were both on the same path. I just couldn’t see how it would end.
I prayed it would be good for both of them.
But I also knew God had a terrible sense of humor.
It took me a long time to sleep.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Francesca
Once I knew Mom was settled in for the night and Allegra was out with Ian, I quickly texted Enzo.
I’m free to meet.
I kept it simple and to the point. Since the night of our stolen kiss, I couldn’t stop thinking about the next time we’d be together. My day with Allegra and Mom had been wonderful, but I was grateful I’d have a few hours to steal some alone time. I was finally glad Allegra wasn’t sharing my room, or a meet-up wouldn’t even be possible. My phone buzzed.
Group is at Harry’s for the night. Meet me at the corner across from hotel in five minutes. I know a place.
I didn’t hesitate. I’d already dressed in anticipation of his gaze, making me feel beautiful instead of passably pretty. It was rare that I glimpsed true appreciation in a man’s stare. I looked on my body as more of a machine than a feminine treasure, grateful to get up every morning and be able to accomplish my goals without pain or disability. But when I caught the hot gleam in his dark eyes, I shivered with pleasure. I wondered if I’d be able to settle for anything less from now on.
He was already waiting at the corner. Afraid to touch in case one of our tour members lingered nearby, we stood close, our gazes locked on each other. “Hi. Where are we going?” I asked, a catch in my breath as his delicious scent rose to my nostrils.
“A cozy place near the Rialto. I left most of our group singing and drinking at Harry’s. What about Allegra and your mom?”
“Mom’s in bed. Allegra’s out with Ian, and Ian’s parents had reservations at one of the restaurants near the plaza.”
He nodded. “We’ll stay away from the tourist spots. Follow me.”
Our hands brushed as we walked side by side. He caught me when my foot stumbled on one of the cobblestones, and I felt his fingers burn into my skin. We walked for a while, and I enjoyed his quiet presence and the beautiful sounds of Venice at night. We reached the Rialto bridge, and he led me away from the main street, into a narrow alley with low archways and brick walls. I raised my brow. The buildings seemed like decaying shops that no longer accepted the public. Grabbing my hand, he guided me past two large barrels and through a door. The faded sign read cantina do spade.
I caught my breath when we walked in. The place was tiny and packed with people. The high mahogany bar was crammed with displays of food and treats, including a large case that featured
an array of desserts, cheeses, and breads. A fully stocked bar took up the wall behind the counter. People squeezed around a few battered wooden tables, drinking and laughing, while small plates crowded every inch of the surface. My knees weakened at the delicious smells. “There’s no room,” I said, looking around.
He grinned and put up his hand, motioning toward the woman behind the cash register. He engaged in a lively conversation in Italian, and she laughed, pointing to a tiny two-person table in the farthest left corner. He thanked her—I recognized grazie and the word spritz—and gently led me to our table.
“This is one of the oldest bars in Venice. Casanova used to frequent the place. It’s filled with mostly locals, so we should be safe here.”
“Wow, I love it,” I said in awe, taking in the warmth and charming ambience.
“I ordered us two drinks—try the spritz; it’s one of their classics. A light type of bubbly wine like Prosecco. Have you eaten?”
I shook my head.
“They have wonderful cicchetti here.”
“What’s that?”
He frowned as if trying to think of how to explain it. “Little portions of food to try. Appetizers.”
“Oh, like tapas! So you can get a bigger variety and try different things.”
“Sì! Are you an adventurous eater?”
I laughed. “No. My daughter is always complaining I don’t have a drop of Italian blood in me. I stick with salads, lean meats, and fruit. But I’ve tried many more things than usual since we got here, including carbs. As you’ve said, life is too short not to indulge.”
He reached over and cupped my cheek, and I leaned into his touch. The table was small and the place was loud and I felt as if I was in a secure bubble that contained only us. “I’m glad you finally took my advice,” he teased. “Now we shall test your limits. Will you try the items I order? Even if you don’t think you’ll like it?”
“Yes. I trust you.”
The words fell out of my mouth so easily, I was surprised I didn’t gasp with shock. But I didn’t. He lifted my fingers to his lips and kissed them, his dark eyes heated. “Thank you, Francesca,” he whispered in his deep, husky voice.
I knew right then we were talking about more than food.
I sipped the delicious chilled spritz and indulged in a variety of bites that pushed my culinary education. Fried meat-stuffed olives; baked sardines; tuna rissoles—balls filled with shreds of fresh tuna, cheeses, and spices; grilled octopus; and salty cod. We talked and drank, and he fed me pieces with his fork, watching my face as I registered each new taste on my tongue. It was one of the most intimate experiences, and I realized how food truly was more than nourishment for the body, but more of a story in time that I could remember by closing my eyes and bringing up the flavors lingering in my memory.
We sipped bitter, strong espresso and nibbled on a dark chocolate tart as the crowd began to wind down. My phone buzzed. I checked to see if it was Allegra, but it was the office, which irritated me. I’d checked in yesterday and explained I’d be offline for the next week, citing Wi-Fi issues in Tuscany. Kate seemed surprised by my sudden willingness to let her lead, but I was starting to realize maybe I didn’t need to do it all. The more time I experienced away, the better I was beginning to feel. The constant tension thrumming through my body eased. My chest loosened. My breath deepened. For the first time in my life, I had no desire to try to figure out what a client needed or to prove myself.
I slipped my phone back into my purse.
Enzo patiently waited; his lips curved in a smile as he noticed me tuck away my phone. “What was your favorite place you’ve traveled?” he asked. We couldn’t stop touching or asking each other questions, as if we were desperate to close the last inch of space between our bodies and hearts.
“Right here. I never got to travel much. I went straight from school to work and then built my business. After I had Allegra, the only weekend trip I treated us to was Sesame Place in Pennsylvania. My mom used to show her old DVDs of Sesame Street and she was obsessed with Big Bird.”
“I like him too. You have such a thirst for knowledge, though. Didn’t you ever want to burst out of your routine and see more?”
The old Frannie would have taken offense, thinking he was judging my choices as wrong, but I knew Enzo wasn’t like that. He seemed eager to know the truth of who I was, and as he kept digging deeper, I realized I didn’t know myself very well. “I never let myself think about it,” I said simply. “Maybe I was born practical. I missed out on that magical fantasy gene. Even when I was young, I never imagined myself as a princess or a bride or a celebrity. I wanted to run an important business like my dad.”
He smiled. “I love that about you,” he said. “That’s why you’re successful. But maybe you worked so hard for all this time so you can finally take a breath. Enjoy what you created.”
“Reap what I sowed?”
He cocked his head. “Yes, if that’s what I said.”
I laughed and he leaned over and pressed a kiss on my lips. “I love your accent.”
“I don’t have an accent. You do.”
“Mine is more guttersnipe. Yours is sexy.”
“Cara, you are pretty much one of the sexiest women I’ve ever met. Want to know why?”
I squirmed, not comfortable with compliments. “Trust me, I’m not sexy.”
“That’s why you’re sexy. Because you don’t know it, and you have no ego. Plus, you don’t care what anyone thinks.”
I blushed. His words embarrassed me, but it was nice to think he was telling the truth. “Grazie.”
“Prego. Now, pick one place you’d like to see next.”
I took my time and analyzed all my options. “Japan.”
“A good choice. Why?”
“I read a story that was set in Japan once. The author painted it in such a way I felt like I was there. The traditional customs and beliefs in a culture that reveres smart business fascinates me. You can be in Tokyo—one of the most thriving, exciting cities—and then be in a tiny village witnessing an ancient tea ceremony.”
His face softened. “That sounds beautiful. And very you. I like the way you describe things, even in your guttersnipe accent.”
I laughed and playfully smacked his arm. “Will you go?” he asked seriously.
“Probably not. It’s a long trip and a bit impractical. I’m not sure if Allegra would go with me. She goes to college next year and everything changes.”
“You, Francesca Ferrari, deserve an exciting, adventure-filled life. Don’t let the details of the day bog you down too much. Now, let’s take advantage of the rest of the evening and walk. I will show you the Venezia I know.”
We paid the bill and walked out, arms linked. He escorted me deep into the underground of the city, into dark alleyways twisted in a maze that led us by the water, over small bridges, and into shadowed corners. Whispers in the breeze mingled with the dank scents of the water. The light from the stars and moon guided us by the canals and parked gondolas rocking back and forth, creaking gently. He pointed out treasures in shop windows and hidden cafés filled with locals who drank and feasted without the probing gazes of tourists. It was a night of magic and romance, and I savored every precious, fleeting minute.
As the hour grew late, I texted with Mom and Allegra, feeling relief that my daughter was home safe and looking forward to hearing her story. We walked back to the hotel with slow, dragging steps, not wanting to see the evening end.
As we got closer, his hand dropped from mine. My heart mourned his touch.
We rode the elevator to my floor. He walked me down the hallway and stood outside my door.
“Thank you for a perfect night.” My throat felt raw with emotion. Longing. Fear. Desire. All of the mess mixed together in a cocktail that was both potent and tempting.
He moved in, and his mou
th covered mine. I pressed against him and looped my arms around his shoulders. The idea of going to bed alone rocked my core, and I knew in that moment, I couldn’t let him go.
His lips eased from mine. “Francesca.” My name was a whisper. A command. A question.
I didn’t pause. “Come inside.”
He nodded, his face tight, his eyes burning with heat. “Sì.”
My hands trembled around my key card as I unlocked the door and he stepped inside with me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Allegra
The rest of the tour flew by.
The next few days in Venice I’d remember forever, especially the night I spent with Ian. My head was stuffed with memories of us sitting close while we sailed down the Grand Canal in a gondola, the quiet whisper of the boat cutting through the water under a night sky studded with stars. The gondolier was dressed in a striped black-and-white shirt, with a hat and a red scarf wrapped around the brim. He held a long pole and navigated in and out of tight canals. I tried to focus on my surroundings but I kept thinking about how Ian’s thigh pressed against mine and the way he kissed me like I was the most important person on earth. He’d finally shyly reached for my hand, and we spent the rest of the gondola ride soaking up each other’s presence as we toured Venice.
He made me giddy and hopeful. He listened when I spoke and soothed a loneliness inside I didn’t even know I had. It was like being hungry all the time but feeling used to it, and then someone gives you a Michelin-starred four-course meal, and you don’t know if you can ever go back to being starved.
Because now you know the difference.
Later, we sat in a small café and ate dinner, talking nonstop about our lives and our dreams. Eleven came too fast, but I’d made a promise, and though Mom had broken many of hers, I didn’t want to do the same.
David had stopped checking in. A few days ago, Freda had sent me a video of them partying. She flashed her boobs at the camera—obviously high—and I caught Connor and David in the background with some girls. I made a half-assed funny comment, but then I decided not to check my social media anymore. Would I have been high and drunk all summer if I’d gone with them? Around Ian, I never questioned if I was cool enough or too nerdy or boring. He made me seem perfect just as I was.
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