Katherine woke feeling slightly hungover; her head was throbbing and she was sick to her stomach. She had no desire to get out of bed, but her time in Florence was limited. She needed to put on her big girl panties and get moving. She pulled off the sheets and traipsed into the bathroom. She frantically searched through her toiletries for that bottle of magic pills. Finally, after pulling everything out, the bottle of ibuprofen rested alone in the toiletry kit.
She didn’t normally drink as much as she had the previous night, but the wine and the company was a nice change from the cloud of sadness that had been hovering over her lately. Being with Tony, laughing, and actually enjoying someone else’s company was something she wasn’t ready to turn away. She reflected on the walk to the Duomo. The magnificent building was basking in a sea of lights radiating in the night’s sky. Romance was in the air, and she got caught up in it, especially with Tony’s kiss that caused her knees to weaken. When his lips first came in contact with her, thoughts of Mike and the other woman flooded her mind. In that moment, something clicked; her life had started over. Traveling to Italy was a chance to a fresh start to a new life. And that’s when she lost herself in Tony’s kiss. He was the fresh start she needed.
Tony’s kiss was magical—like a fairytale. She felt like Cinderella at the ball. Fireworks lit up the sky as the handsome prince picked her out of a crowd and claimed her as his with the simple act of a kiss. Then, the image of Mike replaced Tony’s and shattered her fantasy into tiny unrecognizable pieces.
She hadn’t thought she was ready to kiss another man so soon after Mike. If anything, she wanted nothing to do with men, let alone anything resembling what was blossoming right before her. But when Tony planted his lips on hers, her body tingled and warmth spread over her like she was sitting on the beach on a hot summer day. The depth of his kiss reached to her knees, making them buckle; she had held onto his neck tightly to prevent from falling. His lips…those lips commanded her body, taking control, and claiming their territory. They coaxed her closer and closer until his tongue gently guided her lips apart, searching for a deeper connection. Her body was a bundle of nerves sending impulses with every touch and sensation. It was nothing she had experienced before. But then he’d stopped. Why? Was it all her imagination? Was she the only one who could feel this connection and the sparks that could’ve ignited a five-alarm fire?
It had been a long time since she had those feelings from a kiss. Had it even happened with Mike? Thinking back to recent times, it had been a couple of years since there had been that kind of passion. They became comfortable with each other, thus allowing their flame to dim and Mike had apparently rekindled that passion elsewhere.
Katherine filled up a glass with water and popped the two little pills in her mouth. She swallowed them with little difficulty before picking up her toothbrush to get rid of the stale taste in her mouth. She tied her hair back into a tight bun, and threw on some khakis and a button-down collared shirt. She applied some mascara and a little lipgloss before grabbing her backpack and heading downstairs. Instead of waiting for the elevator, she took the stairs, running down as quickly as possible. She wanted to try and catch Tony before the cooking class.
There was no sign of him in the dining room. Despite being out of breath, she let out a heavy sigh, deflated. She placed her backpack in a chair and walked to the buffet for some pastries and coffee. As she settled in at the table, she reviewed her itinerary. She had only one day left in Florence. A pit formed in Katherine’s stomach; she loved this city and wasn’t ready to leave it, or Tony, yet. He was great company and provided so much insight into the city. It was nice having a friend in a foreign country.
She finished breakfast and was disappointed when Tony didn’t show up. She quickly gathered her things into the backpack, with the exception of the map, and headed out in search of the cooking school. The walk didn’t take long. Like the entire city, it was a relatively short distance away.
There were various groups waiting outside. One of the chefs greeted her and checked her in.
In a heavy Italian accent, he explained the procedure for the morning. “Katherine, you’re in the semi private cooking class; I have you with this group over here. There will be six of you, but we are still waiting for one more person, and then we can get started.”
“Grazie.” She walked over to the four people waiting. She exchanged pleasantries and inquired where they were from. One couple was from England; another was from Ohio. Just as she finished the introductions with them, her pulse surged, skin tingled, and the hair stood up on her arms. She turned to find Tony walking in her direction. Their eyes met, taking hold and creating a magnetic connection that she was unable to break. This man somehow had a hold on her. He was wearing a Yankees hat backward, jeans, and a short sleeve buttoned-down Quicksilver shirt. His chest muscles could be seen through his shirt and the sleeves cupped his bulging biceps. He looked like an American—a drop-dead gorgeous one at that.
“Tony, what are you doing here?”
“Good morning, beautiful. Don’t you remember asking me to join the cooking class?” He smiled a crooked grin, allowing a small dimple to form on his right cheek.
“Vaguely. I didn’t know you would.”
“Is it still okay with you?”
“Of course, I’m just a little surprised.”
“I was able to finish up my business last night, giving me time to play tourist with you today.”
She smiled as her heart pounded like a drum. She pursed her lips in an attempt to keep the drool from pouring from her mouth. What the heck is wrong with me? I’m acting like a schoolgirl! “I-I think we’re going to have a good time. The chef who’s going to be instructing us seems like a nice guy. I can’t wait to learn to cook something.”
When Tony laughed, faint lines formed at the corners of his eyes. “Oh yes, the food critic who can’t cook. Hopefully, by the end of the day that will change.”
The chef approached. “It looks like everyone is here. Are you ready to get started?”
The group of six cheerfully replied, “Yes,” in unison.
“Great. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Alejandro, but please call me Alex. We’re starting today by going to the local market to pick out the ingredients to make our three dishes. We’ll be making a bruschetta, spaghetti bolognaise with fresh pasta, and a tiramisu for dessert. While we’re at the market, we will sample grades of olive oil and balsamic vinegar. I’ll also discuss uses of balsamic vinegar you may not have thought about in the past, such as using an aged balsamic to drizzle on fresh fruit. It’s an outstanding combination sure to dazzle any houseguest.” Alex kissed his fingers and opened up his hand to let out the imaginary flavor he had just tasted.
“When we’re done at the store, we’ll come back to our kitchen and prepare the meal. Does anyone have any questions?”
Katherine looked around at the group and saw everyone looking around as well.
“I’ll take the silence as a no. All right, follow me.”
Katherine walked with the rest of the group with Tony at her side. Everyone bantered as excitement filled the air.
“I had a great time last night. Thank you again.”
“You’re welcome. I enjoyed myself too.”
She hesitated before continuing; she felt like the bearer of bad news. “Tomorrow is my last day in Florence. Any suggestions on what I should do or see?” Would he be upset she was leaving? Did he feel the same sparks?
A muscle in his jaw ticked and his brow furrowed before he answered, “You should go see the Palazzo Pitti.”
“What’s that?”
“It used to be the palace where the king of Italy resided. Now, it’s a museum with paintings, costumes, and the famous Boboli Gardens. They have some beautiful fountains there as well. It might give you a nice break from all of the art you’ve seen lately. The palace is also very beautiful. I think you’ll really enjoy it.”
“Great, I’ll do that.”
“If I remember correctly, you’re going to Siena next.”
Katherine studied the buildings as they walked by. She let out a sigh. “I’m sad to be leaving so quickly. I think I’ve fallen in love with Florence. I’d like a few more days here.”
“It has that effect on people.”
“How much longer will you be here?”
Tony sighed. “I’m not sure. I may take off tomorrow. We’ll see.”
“Where are you going next?”
“I don’t know. I was thinking about leaving Italy for awhile. There’s nothing left for me here. Maybe I’ll do a bit of touring myself and see sights I’ve never seen. I haven’t completely decided yet.”
“Where would you go?”
“What do you mean?” He looked like a little kid absorbing as much information as possible.
“I mean when you leave Italy, where would you go?”
“Who knows? Maybe I’ll come visit you in New York.”
“Really?” She stopped walking and put her hand to her chest.
“Would you like me to?” He gazed into her eyes, almost as if he looked directly in her soul, forcing her to catch her breath. Butterflies bounced off the walls of her stomach in anticipation of seeing him again.
“Of course! I’d love to be able to show you around the city. You’ve been really sweet and have made my stay in Florence such a wonderful experience. I’d like to reciprocate.”
“Maybe we could work something out.” He winked at her before taking her hand in his.
“I’d love it. Before one of us leaves, I’ll give you my contact information.”
Tony pulled her along. They both hurried to catch up with the group. Just as they did, the group came to a halt.
The chef garnered their attention with his boisterous voice. “This is our local grocery store. Inside, you’ll find fresh fruits and vegetables. There will be individual vendors selling their items, and a few butchers for you to choose what kind of meat you prefer. In addition, the store has prepared a tasting for us. Follow me inside. Our olive oil connoisseur, Gina, will come talk to you. Come.”
Katherine and Tony followed the group inside. They made their way to some large wine barrels arranged into tables. They didn’t have to wait long before Gina arrived, carrying a tray with various samples of cheeses and breads.
Tony had pulled down his hat and was looking at the ground.
“What’s going on?” Katherine whispered.
“Oh—ah, nothing. I just want to make sure you have a good view.” He shifted his eyes from the ground to Gina.
“Are you sure? You seem odd. Do you know Gina?”
“I don’t think so. Like I said, you should go ahead. I’m already well-versed in olive oil.”
“That’s right; you said your family produces it.”
“Yes, we did.”
“So, you can probably teach this lesson.”
“Probably. I’m sure she’ll be able to provide you with some interesting facts. You should really listen.”
“Good morning, everyone!” Gina announced.
“Good morning,” Katherine replied along with the rest of the group. She couldn’t pull her eyes from Tony. His demeanor had changed dramatically and she was worried about him.
“My name is Gina. I’m a local chef and an olive oil connoisseur. In addition to working at a restaurant in the evenings, I work for various stores like this one, tasting and inspecting olive oils. Besides wines, olive oil is one of the largest industries in Italy. We produce approximately twenty-five percent of the world’s olive oil right here in our little country. Today, we’re going to learn about the different types and what it means when you hear the term ‘first press.’ In addition, we’ll try some samples of oils and I’ll introduce you to the wonderful world of balsamic vinegar. Before we start, I’d like to get everyone’s names and where you’re from.”
The group introduced themselves, and when it was Katherine’s turn, she stated her name and where she was from. Before she could finish, Gina shifted her gaze to Tony. The smile that previously occupied her face turned quizzical.
“You look familiar. Have we met?”
Tony shook his head, and in a perfect English accent replied, “I don’t believe so. My name is Tony and I’m from London.”
Katherine whipped her head around, connecting with Tony’s eyes. His expression was that of fear, and the red flags from earlier in the week started waving, desperate to get her attention. Katherine’s chest grew tight, but she decided not to question it—at least not in that moment. There was a time and a place for everything, and clearly this wasn’t either.
“Okay, well now that we’ve all become acquainted, let’s get down to learning about olive oil.”
Katherine didn’t hear much of the lesson. Frankly, she couldn’t care less about the oil. She had tasted enough oil at work to be well-versed on it. Her mind was too focused on why Tony had tried to pass as British. What could he be hiding? Was I right to trust this man? He could’ve totally taken advantage of me while I was tipsy last night. How stupid am I?
She jumped as Tony’s hand grasped her shoulder. Concern emanated from his eyes.
He bent over, lightly brushing the side of her neck, and whispered, “It’s not what you think.” The simple action made her sex clench and synapses fire. Unfortunately, it didn’t make the fear dissipate.
“How do you know what I’m thinking?” she whispered back.
“Because I can see it in your body language. I’m not going to hurt you, Kate. You have nothing to worry about.”
“Well, Anthony, how am I supposed to know that? How can I trust you?”
“I don’t think this is the right time to have this conversation. If you want to continue, we need to leave now. Or, we could finish the cooking school you’ve been looking forward to attending, and have dinner together. I’ll explain everything to you then.”
She paused before she responded, “Fine, I’ll have dinner with you, but you’d better have a damned good explanation.”
“I do. I promise.” He smiled and rubbed her cheek with the back of his hand. That simple gesture—that one act of kindness—was almost enough to wash away her fears. No man could be that tender and that bad. Could they? Tension plagued her shoulders and a headache began to form. She was conflicted; instead of feeling at ease with his touch, she felt sick to her stomach, much like when she walked in on Mike and the other woman. She struggled to keep her hands from shaking. She took some deep breaths and focused instead on what Gina was saying.
“How many of you have heard of extra-extra virgin olive oil?”
She looked around as the other four people in her group, including herself, raised their hands.
“I’m here to tell you there is no such thing. Extra virgin olive oil refers to the pressing of the olives. For it to be extra virgin it must be first press only, meaning when the olives are pressed through the machine, and the oil collected is what’s bottled. Since there are no added ingredients to the oil, it should have a fruity aroma. Those companies claiming to produce extra-extra virgin, are not first press. They add ingredients to make it taste and smell like first press extra-virgin. A trained person can still tell the difference. I’m going to pass around a sample of olive oil and I want you to take a small taste of it.” Gina gave everyone small cups containing the greenish-yellow liquid. Once everyone had a taste, she continued, “This is the non-first press oil. Now I’m going to pass around first press.” Gina handed another round of cups to everyone.
Katherine took a sip of her sample and let the flavor sink into her taste buds. “Wow! This is much better. You can really taste the difference. I could barely swallow the first one; it tasted more oily than fruity. This one is delicious; the flavor of the olive is so pronounced.”
“I do believe I have a convert. Many people can’t taste the difference. They figure why pay more for something they can’t taste? The reason is real extra-virgin olive oil has no preservatives, no artificial ingredients, and is better for you. When buying extra-virgin olive oil at the market, it’s important to check the label to make sure it’s first press, and check the expiration date. True first press shouldn’t have an expiration date lasting more than a year. It starts to go bad after that. Also, it should always be in a glass bottle. That helps preserve the flavor, and prevent it from expiring sooner.”
Katherine learned quite a bit of this through her work, but she never had the opportunity to taste the two oils at the same time. She was sure most of the chefs she critiqued were using first press extra-virgin olive oil, but she would pay better attention when she went back to work.
“While I pass around some fresh bread with first press oil, I’m going to give you some more interesting information.” Gina served everyone samples of bread and oil. “Italy only produces enough olives to make enough first press olive oil for its country. Let me clarify—if every citizen of Italy bought olive oil, there wouldn’t be any to export. Because of that, it has become a black-market commodity. Those in the black market are taking the first press and combining it with artificial ingredients.
“Now, I’m sure you’re thinking this sounds so silly. The black market is for drugs and weapons—not for olive oil. But I can assure you, this has become big business. They are ruining the reputation Italy has for producing the finest quality of olive oil. When, really, the product they are producing is so substandard if the American FDA were aware of it, they would never let it in the stores.”
Katherine had no idea any of this was going on. She searched Tony’s face, wondering if he knew. Of course he does. His family is in this business. He must know. She remembered him telling her about his brothers dying in an accident. She wondered if their family business had anything to do with it. She made a mental note to ask him about it later, along with his excuse for lying about where he was from.
“Now I’m going to talk to you a little bit about balsamic vinegar.” Katherine was fairly knowledgeable on balsamic vinegar, so she took the opportunity to get some fresh air.
Tony followed her out. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m just feeling a little on edge.”
“Is it because of me?”
She couldn’t help but notice the concern on his face. “Yeah, I don’t like to be lied to. I thought we were starting to know one another, and were becoming friends.”
“I’m sorry. There are things that have happened to me and my family recently, and I’ve had to be a bit guarded. It has nothing to do with you. I do want you to be able to trust me. I’ve enjoyed our time together. You’re an incredible woman.”
Again, he seemed sincere. But how could she be sure? She had been sure with Mike and look what happened. “Why did you tell Gina you were from England?”
“Because I’m here with you, and I didn’t want anyone to recognize me and take this time away.”
“Really? You’re going to feed me a cheesy line in hopes that will appease me? Do I seem that naïve to you?”
Tony paused, and looked around the outside of the store. He seemed to have focused on someone in the crowd before he turned back to her. “I don’t know how to say this.”
She straightened. “Please, get on with it. If you can’t be straightforward with me, then you have no reason to stick around. I’ve had enough liars in my life and I don’t need another one.”
Tony hesitated, searching for something in the crowd. “I’m supposed to be dead.”
She gasped. She didn’t know what she had expected him to say, but it certainly wasn’t that.
“Remember how I told you my brothers died in an accident? I was supposed to be with them. And because I stepped away to answer a phone call, my life was spared.”
“Are you in some kind of trouble?”
He shifted his stance. “I don’t think so…I don’t know. I need to lay low until I figure out what’s going on.”
“How did your brothers die?”
“In—in an explosion.”
“What type of explosion?”
“Kate, I—I think, in this case, less is more. I don’t want to tell you more, and have you involved in something you don’t need to be.”
“You told me your family is in the olive oil business. Are you involved with the black-market olive oil?”
“No! Absolutely not! We are an honest family who produces the finest quality products. We’re legitimate. We’re well known and have an excellent reputation for quality.”
She was relieved. She could understand why he wouldn’t want to discuss his family. It was probably a very difficult conversation, and it wasn’t as though she shared about Mike.
Tony stared into the crowd of people outside the market. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I think we’d better get back inside. I don’t want you to miss anything else. You seemed to be enjoying the explanation on oil.”
“I was. I thought it was very fascinating. Is what she said factual?”
He put his arm around her and guided her into the store. “Yes, she is very knowledgeable.”
“Do you know her?”
“Yes, she came to my factory often. She bought the oil for these tastings from us. This is probably my production.”
“Do you think she recognized you?”
“She did. I just hope I was able to throw her off.”
Katherine stopped and looked into Tony’s magnificent eyes. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to doubt you.”
“Don’t be sorry. Your instincts were right. You should always listen to your gut.” Tony brushed away a few strands of hair covering Katherine’s face.
“Is your factory still operating? I’d love to see it if I could. I think it would be fascinating to watch the first press process.”
“Unfortunately, you’ll have to come back in October. May is the time when we are tending to our trees to make sure they produce well. Even then, I don’t know if it will be operational. It’s shut down while being investigated. With my family dead, the only one who can run it is me. I’m not sure I want to go back to that.”
“It’s your family business. Can you really just let it go?”
His body grew tense. “Yeah, I think I can. Those people who killed my family are still out there, and they clearly wanted all of us dead. There have already been too many lives lost and the family business is not worth losing mine as well.”
“That’s tragic. How many years has your family been in the business?”
“My great grandfather helped my grandfather start the business when my dad was a young boy.”
“Wow, your family has owned it for generations. It seems to me that it would be pretty hard to walk away.”
“I know it seems that way, but when your life is at stake, a business means very little. Come on, let’s get you inside.” He placed his arm around her and guided her back to the group. As his body relaxed against hers, he grasped her hand. This time, it was her turn to tense up. Holding hands was an intimate gesture. One she wasn’t quite ready for.