They say Rome wasn’t built in a day—well, clearly it couldn’t be seen in one either. Part of me wanted to plunge myself into the essence of Rome, but another part really wanted to escape all these people surrounding me. I figured I would have more than enough time to bond with them, and it wasn’t just because they had taunted me about my ‘Italian lover’ over breakfast, who they were convinced I had slipped away with for a secret rendezvous last night. I couldn’t blame them. I mean, I had been bloody stamped with pretty damning evidence. Oh, how wrong they were.
I didn’t immediately contemplate a lone adventure. I thought it would probably help my reputation to hang out with them a bit, but overhearing Nate and Kylie’s conversation was the clincher.
‘Yeah, Colosseum, baby!’ Nate pointed to the coloured brochure from our welcome pack.
‘Oh my God, isn’t that where Russell Crowe was killed?’ gasped Kylie, looking over his shoulder.
‘Yeah, I think so,’ Nate nodded.
I closed my eyes, praying for strength, while Johnny chuckled next to me. ‘Here endeth the history lesson,’ he said lowly, leaning into me.
I breathed out a laugh—because if you couldn’t laugh what could you do?—only to meet the steely gaze of Jodie, the narrowness of her eyebrows warning ‘I will cut you’. I straightened, clearing my throat and reaching for my bag. Hopefully I could slip away without any fuss, but Nate noticed my retreat.
‘Meeting up with your lover?’
I rolled my eyes. ‘Please, ain’t nobody got time for that.’
‘It’s rather funny really,’ said Jodie, leisurely examining her nails.
I hooked the strap of my bag over my head and looked at her pointedly.
‘You just don’t seem like the kind that would snare someone like Marcello.’
The hairs on the back of my neck rose. ‘Oh?’ I pressed, even though I knew better than to engage in such games.
‘Like, no offence, but Marcello could have anyone.’
Something primal twisted inside my gut; it was a not-so-subtle way of saying he was out of my league. It was all I could do not to take the bait. Instead, I casually cleaned my sunglasses on my T-shirt. ‘And yet he chooses to have coffee with me,’ I lied, sliding on my shades and offering a sweet smile.
‘Aha! I knew it,’ said Nate, pointing at me. ‘Sammi and Marcello sitting in a tree, f-u-c-k-i-n-g.’ He sung like he was in a school playground.
It was so far from the truth it was ridiculous, but I kind of enjoyed their ulterior version of me: the lone-wolf Aussie that rocks up late to gatherings and woos sexy local men in the dead of night, instead of the girl who couldn’t handle her vino and needed the gallant Marcello to put her to bed.
‘Ciao,’ I said with affected confidence, praying that no one would follow, because I wasn’t meeting up with Marcello, and I had no idea where I was going.
According to Claudio, a jolly, helpful man sitting outside of Hotel Luce del Sole, Rome is a city best savoured like a glass of red wine. I liked that, I liked that very much. And rather than being unnerved by the big unknown, I reminded myself to enjoy it. I had felt positively giddy about venturing out and leaving my group behind and, although it was never really possible to be alone in a city where people flocked for the history, culture and romance, there was something rather spectacular about plunging into the essence of Rome with only myself for company.
I can do this!
I just had to keep fed and hydrated, something I quickly learned would never be an issue in Rome. The city was overrun with places to eat, crammed in the mazes of intercepting side streets tucked between Via del Corso and Piazza Novella.
Every corner I took there was another charming building and, despite my bruised toe, I navigated the cobblestone streets like a true local, every step taking me further away from my hotel, utterly gripped and completely overwhelmed by the city. My wandering was interrupted by a familiar figure before me: a pair of brown eyes that sparkled in amusement. I wondered how long he had been watching this unworldly Aussie girl walk up the street like Bambi on ice, eyes wide and mouth agape.
Wearing a blue linen shirt that was pressed to perfection, Marcello certainly didn’t have that living-out-of-a-crate-under-the-bed look about him; he looked as though he had enjoyed a luxurious eight-hour sleep and a long, cool shower that he didn’t have to share with anyone else. Just standing next to him made me feel sweaty and feral. Out of my depth and as clueless as any tourist.
Looking at Marcello now, for the first time in natural light, I couldn’t help but think Jodie was right: someone like this would never entertain someone like me. I was gangly, with brown curly hair that deserved its own postcode. I was more athletic than graceful, more at ease with basketball than dancing. I tanned nicely, sure, but with my brown hair and brown eyes, I was really just brown. No alluring features, no stand-out, head-turning attributes; I was just me. I was fine with being just me, until I shifted under Marcello’s silent scrutiny.
‘How’s the toe?’
I blinked. ‘Oh, um, fine. Well, clearly, as I’m wearing heels.’ I’d chosen wedges in an attempt to feel feminine and sexy, but had sadly fallen short.
Marcello raised his brows as he examined my footwear; clearly he had as much confidence in me as I had.
‘So, you headed somewhere?’ I asked, quickly diverting the attention from my feet.
‘Si, to the Hotel Luce del Sole, to see if they need any assistance.’ Marcello stopped, watching me curiously, as the gravity of my predicament sunk in.
Not only had I alluded to sharing a smoking-hot night with Marcello, I had out-and-out lied to my tour group about going on a date with the very man in front of me. If he dropped in on them, it would make me look like an idiot, and a bunny-boiling psycho—not exactly the image to ingratiate me with my fellow travellers.
‘What is it?’ Marcello asked, no doubt wondering at my impression of a deer in headlights.
‘No, no, nothing.’ I laughed it off. ‘I really was just thinking about changing my footwear. Hey, listen,’ I said, moving to guide Marcello in the opposite direction from the hotel, ‘everyone is out. I think they’ve all booked a tour to the Colosseum or something.’
Marcello seemed confused. ‘Isn’t that a part of your itinerary?’
‘I know, right, they’re seriously keen, but, yeah, I just didn’t want you to trek all the way up there and find that no one was about.’ I cringed, hoping my performance had been believable. Marcello’s dark eyes dropped to his arm, where I had a hold of him to guide him away. I quickly let go, innocently tucking a stray hair behind my ear with a sweet smile.
I kept the smile plastered to my face, even under the deep-set scrutiny of Marcello’s dark stare, the one that said he didn’t believe a word I was saying, even as his own sickly sweet smile spread across his face. To anyone looking on, we must have looked like the village idiots, or a pair of serial killers.
I laughed, he laughed—it was all so utterly fake.
Marcello folded his arms, taking a step closer to me. He tapped thoughtfully on his chin as if pondering something.
‘Why did you not go with them?’
‘Oh, you know, I just needed some downtime. I thought I would just wander the streets and see what I could see.’ I shrugged; I was not going to win an acting award anytime soon. There was something so unnerving about the way Marcello looked at me. He wasn’t looking down at me; my height was somewhat of a curse when it came to dating—being 5’11’ and all legs could really limit the playing field. But Marcello and I were eye to eye, and it felt incredibly intimate, as if we were enclosed in our own private space and not a bustling backstreet in Rome. A tiny part of me wanted to step back, but only a very tiny part.
Marcello rubbed the light dusting of stubble on his jaw as if tortured by an inner decision.
‘Still, I’d better call into Hotel Luce de Sole. I’ll leave a note for anyone who might need help later on tonight,’ he said, stepping away.
‘No, wait, stop!’ I shouted, reaching out to him once more, grabbing onto his arm. ‘I need you!’ I said, far too panicked and way too crazy.
Marcello slowly turned to me, smug, his eyes dropping to my hand. I did let go, but a little more slowly this time, afraid he might turn and leg it down the street, and I really didn’t want to run after him in wedges.
He curved his dark brow; I swore he was loving every minute of this. ‘You need me, do you?’
I balled my hands at my side so tightly my knuckles turned white, fighting not to cringe at my own stupidity and my big mouth.
I smiled sweetly once more, tilting my head. ‘Desperately,’ I said, my voice dripping with so much sarcasm that I hoped he wouldn’t turn and walk away, but my pride had to have some kind of victory.
Marcello shrugged one shoulder lazily. ‘You are only human—how can I help?’ he asked, turning his full attention back to me.
It was then I knew I had won … for now.
‘I’ll help you—on one very important condition.’
Oh no.
‘What’s that?’
Marcello took his sunglasses from his top pocket, flicking them open and placing them on with a wry smile. ‘You are going to have to change your shoes.’