teammates this afternoon, and your father has asked that you join him and your mother for dinner this evening.”
Luca tried not to wince again. He wasn’t sure if it was the Tuscan light streaming through his windows or the thought of spending the evening with his angry parents that made his head throb, but either way it didn’t feel good.
“There’s one more thing, Your Highness,” Rinaldo said as he approached Luca’s closet and pulled out his polo gear.
“Yes?” Luca said, slowly rising from his king-sized bed and taking the proffered garment from Rinaldo’s hand.
“Giorgio has called. The girl should arrive tomorrow afternoon, if she decides to get on the plane.”
This got Luca’s attention.
“He managed to get her to agree? Fantastic!”
Luca’s plan to find a lost royal had started out almost as a personal conquest. He was angry that no one would associate with him anymore, and it had occurred to him that he might be able to find someone of royal blood who wasn’t yet aware of his reputation. That person might be someone he could enjoy some time with…for a while, anyway. That’s when he found out about the lost house of Galtieri, a long deposed noble bloodline, gone, but evidently not quite forgotten…
“And she bought the whole international relations bit?” Luca asked.
Rinaldo nodded. “She did. The email logo was a nice touch, if I do say so myself, sir.”
Luca grinned. “Gabriella Galtieri. My God, she has no idea who she might really be. And she’s an American!”
The thought of spending time with an American was an appealing one to Luca. The Americans he had met during his university years had been boisterous and noisy and fun. He had liked them a lot. They didn’t care about status or titles—to them, everyone was equal. It was an interesting concept to Luca, coming from a world of hierarchies and status. The Americans did still value wealth, however, and he had found that many of his ‘friends’ disappeared the minute he stopped offering to buy all the drinks or fly them out to exotic locales.
Such was life.
But this Gabriella. She was the only Galtieri he could find that wasn’t ancient or already married. She was younger than him by four years, but that didn’t matter. He was sure she would be interesting company, and he was intrigued to learn more about this possible royal, who likely had no idea who she could be. His research was still inconclusive there.
Yes, mother. I can do research. Perhaps I’m not that much of a fool after all, Luca thought as he pulled his polo pants up and wriggled into black riding boots.
His olive skin was a little pale from his hangover, but it in no way detracted from his strong physique and confident posture. Luca could wear a hangover as good as any other noble, and he would do so today.
“Rinaldo, tell Giorgio he has my thanks, and that a large bonus will be on the table if he is able to get her on a plane out to me.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Luca took one last gulp of water before exiting his room. Tomorrow he would meet Gabriella Galtieri. What an interesting day that would be!
FIVE
Gaby
Gaby lay in her single bed, her eyes wide open despite the lateness of the hour.
Since going to bed, she had wavered between going to Florence and staying at home at least six times each. It was an impossible decision, and one she had no time to think about. What if she was kidnapped? What if this was all an elaborate ruse? Gaby read the news. She knew how scary the world really was.
Was it worth the risk?
On the other hand, it was the opportunity of a lifetime. A free trip to Florence, all expenses paid? Who got an offer like that and turned it down? Was she being foolish? Sheltered? All she ever talked about was getting out and seeing the world. Was she really just going to let herself talk, and take no action?
Gaby leapt from her bed, her bare feet padding along the cold wooden floors. She would do this. She would not back out. If this was her destiny, then she could not afford to shy away from what the world may still have to offer her.
She pulled out a small backpack and threw in a few pairs of jeans and long-sleeved shirts. Gaby didn’t really know what the weather was like in Florence, but she assumed it was much milder than in New York. A jacket on top would likely be enough to keep her warm.
Satisfied with her little bag, she crawled underneath her worn quilt and snuggled into her pillow. She would decide what to do tomorrow—if the car even showed up after her shift. Until then, she would try and get some sleep.
***
Before she knew it, Gaby was blinking against the sunlight of morning.
“Gabriella!” her mother called up the stairs. “It’s time to get up! We have prep to do!”
“Coming, Mama,” Gaby said, her voice weary. She hadn’t gotten much sleep, and when she glanced at her packed bag in the corner, her stomach gave a little leap. Today she could be leaving for an amazing vacation—a break. She hadn’t had one of those in years.
Wiping the thought from her mind, Gaby dressed and brushed her teeth in the small bathroom across the hall before heading down to the kitchen and donning an apron.
“I need you to start making the pasta,” Gina said, already busy shaping meatballs in the corner.
“Yes, Mama,” Gaby said, and just like that, her day had begun.
To say it was the day after Thanksgiving, Il Lupo was surprisingly busy. People were coming in loaded with bags full of Black Friday purchases, laughing and opening their new toys. Gaby was grateful for the rush of people. It kept her busy enough to not think about the car that would be coming for her. Or would it?
“Gaby, you are insane.” Rosalie, a petite blonde that was Gaby’s oldest childhood friend, was filling a glass with coke as she peeked over the bar at her. “You cannot really be considering staying in New York when you could be in Florence! That’s nuts!”
“Table nine needs more bread sticks,” Gaby said flatly, and Rosalie grabbed a basket, rolling buttery garlic bread sticks into a white cloth and placing them on her tray to take out.
“Change the subject all you like, but if I were you, I’d be way more excited about this!”
“And yet somehow we’ve remained friends all these years, in spite of our differences,” Gaby replied with a grin.
Rosalie stuck her tongue out at Gaby before exiting the kitchen, her large tray balanced precariously on her small shoulder. Compared to the Galtieris, Rosalie was a tiny little thing. Her size and quiet nature with the customers created a calming balance in the restaurant that customers seemed to enjoy, which made Gaby’s parents all the happier to keep Rosalie around.
Table after table came and went, with people in a jovial mood as the holiday season went into full swing. New York was the perfect place to spend Christmas. The windows of the restaurant were decorated with elaborate paintings of Christmas scenes and winter themes. Every corner smelled like freshly baked cookies and warm cocoa as passers-by strolled past in their winter coats, enjoying the levity of the season. Gaby enjoyed the wonderful energy of it as each new group came in to enjoy their food.
When she glanced at her watch some time later, she was surprised to see that it was already a quarter to nine. The last table was finishing up their meal, and Rosalie brought their check, reminding them to take their time.
When she met Gaby back in the kitchen, she pulled a wad of cash from her apron. “Not a bad day, if I do say so myself,” Rosalie said, counting her tips.
Gaby pulled out her own wad and began counting. That day they’d each made about two hundred dollars. Not bad, indeed.
The door jingled, signaling the arrival of another customer.
“You got this one?” Rosalie asked, wiping her brow.
It had been a very long shift, but the money was good, and it was nice to watch families enjoy their time together over a meal.
Gaby nodded, squaring her shoulders and pasting her waitress smile on as she exited the kitchen and moved to
greet the new party.
“How many today…” she began, launching into her usual questions and stopping short.
The man standing in the doorway wore a smart driver’s uniform under a clean black jacket. He stood straight and tall.
“I’m here to pick up Gabriella Galtieri, miss,” he said, with a slight accent.
Gaby’s heart fluttered, and she panicked. “I am Gaby Galtieri, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to accompany you. I have to stay here and work, you see—”
“Oh no you don’t,” Rosalie said, sneaking up from behind and grasping her friend’s hand. “The restaurant will be just fine for a couple of days without you, Gaby. Go get your bag. I know you packed already.”
Gaby stared down into her friend’s warm, blue-eyed gaze. Her own eyes were wild with repressed panic.
Rosalie gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Go have an adventure, Gaby. Who knows how many you’ll get offered? Do you really want to regret not taking this chance?”
Gaby hesitated, thinking. Then she threw her arms around her friend and held on tight.
“If I’m murdered, I’m going to haunt you forever.”
Rosalie scoffed. “You’re not getting murdered. If anything, you’ll gain a few pounds gorging on pasta and gelato. Now go!”
Gaby grinned as she flew up the back stairs and grabbed her backpack. She had gotten her a passport a few years earlier when she’d considered a study abroad program during college, but had chickened out at the last minute. Rosalie was right—it was something she had regretted. This time she would take a chance, and see where it went.
She threw off her apron and changed into a pair of jeans, a plaid shirt, and her coat. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, her parents were waiting for her. Her mother’s eyes were watery.
“Have fun, baby girl, and look out for yourself, eh?” Gaby’s father said, wrapping her in a fierce hug. Gaby hugged him back just as tightly. She then hugged her mother, who was oddly stiff.
“I want a phone call from you the minute you land, understood? Keep us posted so that we know you’re safe,” Gina said, her voice tight.
“I will,” Gaby promised. She smiled, her eyes watering slightly; her mother seemed so tough on the outside, but Gaby knew she was filled with worry and love for her. She was one strong Italian mama.
Heading back out to the dining area, Gaby hugged Rosalie one last time before nodding to the driver, and they headed out the door. The car that was waiting for her was a sleek black Mercedes.
“This is our car?” Gaby asked, breathless.
The driver nodded. “Yes, miss. May I take your bag?”
Gaby handed the man her beaten old backpack, feeling inadequate as she slid into the soft leather seats in the back of the vehicle. Classical music played on the radio as the driver closed the car’s trunk and slid back into the driver’s seat, pulling away from the curb.
The chauffeur drove in silence, and Gaby stared out the window as the car left Queens and headed towards Manhattan. Gaby assumed that they would be flying out of JFK, but the road for that airport passed them by as the driver continued onward. Gaby’s stomach clenched.
“Where are we flying out of?” she asked, hoping against hope she hadn’t just gotten herself into a scary situation.