CHAPTER NINE

 

 

 

I had to find Thalia or Rosalia, if not both, immediately. Before Salvatore could find me. Breakfast was always a risky time, I never knew who would be around or when. And as I had never paid any particular attention to who tended to come at any particular time, there was no way of knowing when they might show.

But I had to find them if I wanted tonight to be as magical as I had imagined.

The last night of the house party.

Quite possibly the end of the magic, if it had to end at all.

I was desperate to grasp at it. I wanted to keep the magic, harness it and let it carry me wherever it wanted. I didn’t want any of this to end.

It was terrifying and exciting and exhilarating all at the same time.

And I had to do what I could to make it last. Salvatore loved speaking to me in Italian, making me swoon with whatever he was saying, even if he were asking me for crackers for his soup. And I knew he loved hearing me say anything in Italian, even if I were asking for crackers for my soup.

So I needed to learn Italian.

Not fluently, of course. I knew full well I would never master the language in so short a time, or even be able to carry on a real conversation; I was not that naive nor that ambitious. But I had to learn how to say something. It was the least I could do, and something I thought would mean the most.

Maybe… Just maybe…

It would be enough.

I spotted them both in the corner and dashed over to them, which had to be surprising, as I was in sweatpants and no makeup, though my hair was dry, at least. Not styled, but dry.

There was no time for appearances here.

Rosalia jumped to her feet quickly at my approach while Thalia simply went wide-eyed. “Claire!” Rosalia said with some concern. “What happened to you?”

“What?” I half barked, not knowing what she meant.

She reached out and flicked the tag of my loose shirt, hanging free behind my neck. “Your shirt is inside out, amica. You are not dressed. You have on no makeup.” She shrugged and looked at Thalia for confirmation.

Thalia nodded. “It’s very shocking, Claire. What’s wrong?”

I sat down next to them, leaning forward anxiously. “I need your help.”

They sat and leaned in closer. “With what?” Rosalia asked, her eyes now wide.

Thalia smirked. “Salvatore? Please tell me this has to do with Salvatore.”

Rosalia looked at her in shock. “Che cosa? What about Salvatore?” She looked between us both in confusion.

Thalia gave me a dubious look. “She’s not the most observant girl I’ve ever met, but she’s too sweet to criticize.”

I managed to snort a laugh. “Catch her up later. I need you to help me make tonight… special.”

“Si,” Rosalia replied, nodding repeatedly. “Whatever we can do.”

“What do you need?” Thalia asked, looking both interested and mischievous.

I swallowed and looked around quickly. “I need to learn some Italian. Something in Italian. Anything, really.”

“I highly doubt you want to say just anything,” Thalia teased, smiling fully.

I was in no mood for being teased right now. “No, I don’t,” I snapped. “I need it to be meaningful. I need it to convince him that… That…” Words failed me, and I looked at them both in desperation. “Will you help me?”

“Of course,” they chimed as one.

Rosalia reached out to take my hand. “When do you need us to help you?”

I swallowed hard, relief and panic warring within me. “Later. He’s taking me out today, and I want to say whatever it is I say tonight. Not before. If anything changes, I won’t need to say it. But…”

“You’ll say it,” Thalia assured me with a wink. “I’ve seen you and him all this week. This is big.”

Rosalia suddenly gasped. “You’re the reason I find him so changed!”

I winced and tried to shush her.

“He’s not even looked at any of the girls here,” she continued, her voice only marginally lower. “I’ve been getting complaints about it from some of the others! I gave them other options, of course, but they all assumed that…”

“We all assumed,” Thalia offered.

I nodded. “So did I. I never expected…” I had to smile. “Well, I just never thought it would be like this.”

The girls squealed, and instead of finding myself annoyed by the girlishness, I laughed at it. I felt the same energy surging into my limbs as if directly from my heart, and I could barely contain it.

But there were things to do, and I couldn’t sit around all day and moon about him. I got up from the table and smiled at my friends, stunned that I could consider them friends. “When I get back from wherever he is taking me, can we meet up? Then you can teach me and we can get ready for the formal together.”

Rosalia nodded quickly. “Marco is taking me horseback riding, but we should be back in time.”

Thalia snorted and folded her arms. “Nobody is taking me anywhere, so I have all the time in the world.” She grinned, which was a relief.

If I had been her, I would have been particularly bitter about that. Which only proved she was a better person than I.

No surprises there.

“Thank you,” I told them both with more sincerity than I had ever felt in my life.

“Go get ready!” Thalia urged, waving me off. “You can’t see Salvatore looking like that.”

On that, we could agree, and I raced back upstairs without breakfast to get myself ready. It was going to be a big day, I could feel it. An important day.

Something special.

The night before we’d decided to spend our free day away from Florence, seeing a bit of the Tuscan countryside and even the shoreline. It would be a bit of a drive, but neither of us minded very much. We really wanted to see Livorno, a popular coastal town with apparently much to offer, and Salvatore assured me there would be plenty of opportunities to find inspiration for my art there.

I couldn’t wait.

Fully dressed in my boyfriend jeans and striped tee, straw hat and boat shoes in place, almost natural-looking makeup triple checked, I made my way downstairs and out to the car. Salvatore had texted me about twenty-six times during the getting ready process, little things to make me smile or laugh, cute phrases in Italian that my phone translated for me, and suggestions for what to wear that I would never listen to. Then he’d texted me this: “I can’t wait to see you.”

Oh, my heart…

It had been doing that a lot lately. I only barely resembled myself anymore; I wanted to smile and laugh, wanted to be in his arms more than anywhere else, and found myself somewhat lost when he wasn’t around. I wanted to tell him all my thoughts, silly or serious, and I wanted to hear him say my name in that beautiful accent of his. It was keeping me distracted all the time, and making sense hard to come by.

Last night, trying to fall asleep, I’d realized the problem: I was falling in love with him. Or, rather, I was already in love with him.

I could barely breathe with that revelation living in my chest, but somehow I’d manage.

I couldn’t tell him yet. That was what I needed the girls to help me with.

I would tell him tonight.

In Italian.

But staring at him now as he waited by the car, almost matching me in our ensembles, though his was a white button-up open to the white shirt beneath, I thought waiting until later might be more difficult than I had previously thought.

He looked up and grinned at me. “Ciao, bella fatina.” He gestured to the car. “Come away with me?”

My heart and various other parts of me screamed in delight and somehow I made my way to him. He pulled me into a tight hug, breathing in deeply as if inhaling whatever scent I gave off. He murmured something I couldn’t hear, let alone translate, and I leaned back to smile at him.

“You know I have no clue what you just said,” I told him.

He smiled and kissed my nose. “Si. It makes it so much better that you can’t smack me if it offended you.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, wishing that wasn’t amusing to me, and kissed him quickly. “I may smack you yet. Let’s go, I want to see the coast.”

We got into the car and Salvatore was quick to pull me up against him as the driver pulled away. “Go to sleep, if you like, fatina,” he told me. “I’ll wake you when we get there.”

I nuzzled up against him and let myself relax. He ran his fingers through my hair and stroked them along my back, and I wrapped my arms around him with a sleepy, “That feels nice,” before drifting off.

Salvatore woke me with kisses, which was a new favorite way of waking, I decided. We got out of the car, immediately inhaling the sea air of Livorno.

Amazing that a drive of just over an hour could result in such a change in sights, sounds, and smells, but there it was.

Salvatore came to my side, a knapsack slung over one shoulder, his sunglasses in place. He smiled at my expression and took my hand.

“Where to first?” I asked, grinning.

“Mercato Centrale,” he replied, which meant nothing to me, as he knew full well. “We are going to a market, getting some delicious food, and then I will take you to the coast, where we will eat and you will draw while I nap, and then I don’t know. Whatever you wish, cara mia.”

“Sounds perfect,” I sighed, not even bothering to hide my delight.

I think he enjoyed the sound of my voice at that moment.

The market was just as busy and congested as any market in London I had ever been to, but somehow so much more exciting. A mixture of English and Italian met my ears as the vendors tried to barter and sway their customers, who were a fair mix of nationalities, from what I could see. Anything I could have wanted by way of food, and even some wares, was there for me to see, but there was a special focus on seafood, which was to be expected.

I hadn’t thought I was hungry on the drive over, but the smells emanating from the various stands was making my stomach roar and rumble. Salvatore was an excellent barterer and got us several free tastes, as well as deals on some soups, bruschetta, and an assortment of meats and cheeses that looked phenomenal and smelled even better. He paired it with a bold Chianti, which the vendor raved continuously about, and the man threw in some glasses for free, just because he knew we would love it.

We got back into our car and drove down to Antignano, where we got out and just walked a while. I wanted to be away from the people, he wanted me to have a spectacular view, so we walked until we found it.

“Qui,” Salvatore said suddenly once we were on a bluff. He pointed in the distance. “There is your scene, fatina.”

My breath caught in my chest at the waves rolling onto the shore, the rocky crags of the coastline weaving their way around, and there stood a castle on the edge of one particularly large outcropping. Its stone foundation seemed to spring from the coast itself, and its white exterior glistened in the afternoon sun, almost as though the building itself had been formed by the reflections of the sea.

“What is it?” I breathed, catching a strand of hair the sea breeze had blown loose.

“Castello del Boccale. It was once a watchtower that protected the area from pirates.” He nudged me in my side with a chuckle. “You’d like a pirate, wouldn’t you?”

I shrugged, turning to smile up at him. “I don’t know, I’m particularly fond of dukes these days.”

That earned me a sound kiss.

We spread out the blanket he’d brought and ate our delicious Tuscan meal, savoring each incredible morsel. Salvatore was quick to stretch out for a nap afterwards, and I went to work on my drawing, knowing this was too magnificent a scene to pass up, but also knowing I wanted to do this right. I wanted oils and a canvas, and hours and hours of time to perfect it. This drawing and my reference photos would only be my preliminary work until I could manage that, but the details were just as important.

I was distracted, however, by the gorgeous man stretched out beside me. He was soundly asleep, but no less appealing for that. I finished up the detail of the coastline and castle, then scrambled for my sketches of Salvatore. I had yet to finish even one of them.

I was afraid to.

With more patience than I thought I possessed, I drew the long lines of him, sculpted the perfect angles of his face, the contours of his physique, which were all too apparent in his current state, and paid special detail to the shape of his mouth. That mouth that could rile me up in agitation with his snide remarks, tease me into a laugh, ensnare me with its sweet words, and captivate me with its drugging kisses…

That mouth was for sinners and saints, and anything in between.

“Have you had your fill, fatina?” a sleepy voice suddenly said.

I jerked up, having been absorbed in my sketch. “What?”

Salvatore blinked in confusion. “Of the view. Did you get it?”

“Oh.” I swallowed quickly and closed the sketchbook. “Yes, I did. As well as I could without paints, at any rate.” I looked out over it again with a sigh. “I’d like to paint it at sunset. Or maybe sunrise. Just to see what I could do.”

He smiled at that. “I think you could do amazing things, Claire. Whatever you set your mind to. But I will happily bring you back here sometime to see the sunset or sunrise, if you’d like.”

My heart leapt at the implications. That would be after the house party. He intended this to go on, to last beyond the week of the party, to become real…

It wasn’t just a fling for him.

The words danced at the edges of my lips, my confession and declaration straining at its confines.

But I had to wait. Tonight, I told myself. Tonight I will tell him.

It couldn’t come soon enough.

I smiled at home, amid my inner chaos. “Now what?”

“One thing more,” he said as he sat up, taking my hand in his and kissing it. “Terrazza Mascagni. You will love this.”

“I know I will,” I replied softly, gripping his hand more tightly.

We got back into the car and drove north, just for a few minutes, it seemed, and then we got out again. There were people everywhere, but there was plenty of space for them, so it didn’t feel congested. The Terrazza Mascagni was a massive bridge, but it was more like an expansive terrace than anything else, and we just walked along it, listening to the waves crash into the shore, loving the stunning views of the sea. It was a charming place, even with the other people around, and I slid my arm around Salvatore’s waist as we wandered slowly. He pulled me in close, his arm tight around my shoulders, and kissed the side of my head.

It was strange, but walking the terrazza like this made me feel more in love with him than ever before. There was a deep sense of comfort with him, a silence that I did not need to fill. A bizarre sense of belonging, though this was not my home and never would be.

Contentment. That’s what it was. Walking here with Salvatore by my side filled me with a sense of contentment that I’d never felt before.

And I loved that feeling.

I loved it a lot.

The drive back to the Catalanos’ villa was much the same, silent and dozing, though I found myself kissing Salvatore more often than I expected. Gentle, soft, sweet kisses to fill the time. His hands wandered up my back, down my arms, into my hair, in long, soothing strokes that relaxed as well as excited me.

“Sei il mio grande amore e il mio amore grande,” Salvatore murmured, cupping my face. “Per te farei di tutto. Ho bisogno di te.”

I sensed an urgency in his tone, but his words had no meaning for me. I gripped the back of his neck tightly. “If you want me to understand, you need to say things in a way I understand.”

He kissed me hungrily, taking my breath away, though it had hardly been steady before. “I’m trying to, Tesoro. Believe me, I am.”

I curled my fingers in his hair and kissed him back, wishing I knew all that he had ever said to me, wondering if he might be feeling this passion out of lust or from the deeper, more profound emotions that I was in the midst of.

I wanted him to love me. Not just want me, but truly love me.

I wanted him to need me as much as I was coming to need him, and I was terrified that I was just another one of his typical relationships. It couldn’t be that easy for him. It had to be more, didn’t it?

I couldn’t be the only one feeling this, could I?

We pulled up to the villa and he got out first, tugging on my hand to make me follow. He cupped my cheek again, this time with the utmost gentleness.

“I have some business to take care of,” he said with a soft stroke of my cheek. “Some calls to make. I may be a while. But I will see you tonight, even if I am late.”

I nodded, gripping his shirt in my hands. “I’ll be waiting.”

He smiled and kissed me again, only barely grazing his lips against mine, and the effect was maddening. “Just a preview for later,” he whispered in my ear before kissing it.

I shivered and nodded, then went into the house ahead of him, my face flaming and the rest of me feeling quite on fire as well.

The girls were already in my room going through my closet when I entered, and they paused when I came in.

“Madonna,” Rosalia breathed, starting to smile. “Claire…”

“What?” I asked, pretending my face wasn’t on fire.

Thalia laughed easily. “Someone has riled you up and kissed you senseless. It’s all over your face.”

I blushed somehow further and covered my face, which made them squeal, which led to a very long, very drawn out conversation on my bed about everything that had happened in the last few days.

They were put out that I couldn’t remember any of the Italian phrases Salvatore had been saying to me, but loved our bantering, and loved that he intentionally spoke Italian so I wouldn’t understand. They sighed and swooned at all of the right places, and I felt somehow more secure in my feelings having seen how the scenarios affected them, though they were experiencing it all secondhand.

Imagine being the one directly impacted.

We ate dinner up in the room, chatting and laughing while they taught me some key Italian phrases, and starting to get ready for the formal. I hadn’t heard from Salvatore, but I hadn’t expected to. I didn’t know what sort of business he had to take care of, but I was sure he’d tell me later. Maybe he’d had a great idea and wanted to put his name and his money to good use. Maybe one of his cousins or siblings had gotten into trouble and he felt responsible.

Maybe he was planning a trip for us to take together.

That last suggestion had been Rosalia’s, but my mind seized it in a quick vice.

I shouldn’t hope for things I couldn’t know for certain, but the idea of the two of us being away together… That held a certain appeal I suddenly craved.

Thalia helped me into my dress, a fitted red lace mermaid gown with a high slit just off center in the skirt, and she gushed over the sheer panels around my midsection. Rosalia was more excited about the sheer nature of the neckline than that, but both of them could agree that my towering strappy red stilettos were the perfect exclamation point for the entire ensemble.

Once my makeup and hair were completed, I took a long look at myself.

I looked like me. But I looked like the very best version of me I had ever seen. Sexier, warmer, and somehow just… more.

Salvatore was going to swallow his tongue.

And this time he would be coming to me for the most epic kiss we’d ever shared.

I could guarantee that much at least.

The ballroom was more alive than it had been that first night, everyone more familiar with each other than before, and everyone dressed in their finest apparel. Some of the girls still looked as though they belonged at cheap clubs in London, but I didn’t mind that so much. Thalia was stunning in a dress the color of gold, every inch of her lean body silhouetted perfectly. At least three men were surrounding her now, and she seemed amused by that. Rosalia was in a pale pink chiffon gown that contrasted brilliantly with her complexion and gave her an elegance that only heightened her beauty. Marco was by her side, and obviously had no intention of being moved from it.

I stood awkwardly off to one side of the room, holding a drink I barely tasted.

I ran over the Italian in my mind again and again, desperately wanting to get it right, though I knew he would probably understand what I meant to say even if I butchered it. But I didn’t want the moment to be ruined by my inability to say what was in my heart in the language that was so natural to him. I wanted to feel the words roll off of my tongue as easily as he had said them. Though, as I looked back, I wasn’t sure he had said what I was going to say.

The specifics of his Italian teasing had been completely lost on me, and I cursed myself for not paying more attention.

What if he had said something important? What if he hadn’t?

What if I was about to make a fool of myself?

I shook my head at once, scolding myself. No, this was real. There was no mistaking it. I had felt it, and I could swear he had as well.

It was real.

It had to be.

I saw Davide and Francisco come into the room, and both of them looked at me, looked again, looked at each other, then looked at me yet again for a much longer time, and then smiled, nodding their greeting at me. Odd, but their looks and their smiles didn’t have the same leer that I had learned was their trademark. They didn’t come over, but they didn’t look disapproving either.

I knew I looked good, but surely I hadn’t changed their opinions just from this ensemble…

Salvatore wasn’t with them. He wasn’t anywhere, as far as I could see. I circled the room three times, escaping dance invitations from the Catalano brothers, who had not changed at all over the course of the week and still reeked of vodka and cheese. No one else made any attempt to talk with me, which I expected, but plenty of people looked. And whispered. And looked some more.

I was beginning to feel like a ridiculous spectacle, and I didn’t have Salvatore with me to ease the burden of it.

Where was he?

I checked my phone, which I’d stashed in my clutch.

No messages, no calls.

I scanned the room again, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Suddenly I felt warm, conspicuous, and nervous. I was quite literally the only person standing with no one around them. Everyone had someone, or multiple someones, who wanted their attention. Everyone was either dancing or talking, and I was just standing here.

Waiting.

I took a drink of whatever I was holding to soothe my parched throat, but it didn’t help.

He had to be here. He had to kiss me. He had to hear what I had to say. He had to end this fantasy with me so I would know what was real.

He had…

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Severo bellowed into a microphone. “The time has come! Midnight approaches, and our house party will come to its fiery and passionate conclusion!”

The room roared its approval, whistles and cheers filling the air.

I looked around frantically. Where was he? He couldn’t leave me like this, not here, not now.

“Find your stranger, or your special someone if you’ve found them,” Severo continued, pulling a giggling girl on stage with him. “And at the stroke of midnight, kiss them farewell, and make them remember it!”

Again came the cheers, the whistles, and some catcalls in languages I didn’t know.

He wasn’t going to come. He was going to leave me here, embarrassed and ashamed, while he lit up the night scene in Florence or wherever with any girl he could get.

But how? He couldn’t… I loved him, I trusted him, and he…

He…

The clock struck its chime and everyone in the room turned to their partner and kissed them. Really kissed them. Passionately and without any sort of restraint or hesitation.

And I just stood there, suddenly cold.

Alone.