Katerina laughed. “Whatever! You guys have your shirts off and you don’t see us losing our minds over it.”
Speak for yourself, Katerina.
“Gianluca, would you mind helping me?” Chiara asked, tugging on his arm to get him to show her how to kick the ball properly. It was a clever ploy to get his attention, pretending to be crap in soccer, but the more she kicked it around, the more I realized she wasn’t putting on an act at all. Bit clumsy, that one.
I wanted to ask Gianluca to come swim again, but he had agreed to help her, walking off from the group so they could kick it back and forth between one another. My stomach twisted with jealousy and when she grabbed his arm and tossed her head back to laugh, I immediately regretted asking her along. I forced myself to turn away and head back into the water, but it was impossible to miss her chasing after him. From then on, Chiara hung on his every word. In the morning, she’d been paying attention to Paolo, but I suppose she’d seen an opening for Gianluca and jumped on it.
I was in a sour mood after that, and forced myself to start to collect the trash from our late lunch as a way to distract myself. Gianluca came over to help me. Chiara followed.
“Oh, Georgie, you should go out and swim while you can. I can help clean up,” Chiara said, nearly ripping the pizza box out of my hands.
I wasn’t going to fight over who was going to clean up stale pepperonis, so I stepped back and let them have their moment together.
After that, they were nearly inseparable. When Gianluca swam out into the sea, Chiara followed all the way to the buoys. They bobbed along together out in the distance, swimming in place, probably getting on like two peas in a pod. I hoped a massive sea turtle would swim up and eat her whole.
“You okay?” Katerina asked as I took a long swig of wine directly from the bottle.
“Perfetto!” I replied with an edgy tone. “Let’s go get some gelato.”
I needed some time away from the group and Katerina was never one to turn down dessert in the middle of the day (i.e. my favorite kind of person).
Katerina pointed back to the sea as we walked away from the group. “Italians have a saying for times like this: c’e maretta.”
“And what does it mean?”
“Choppy sea. It’s used when there is obvious tension between two people, and a storm could come at any time,” she intoned with a devious smile.
I rolled my eyes at her. “Well I’m sorry to disappoint you, but the sea looks quite calm today.”
“So you don’t want to talk about it then?”
“About what?”
“The fact that Chiara seems to be Gianluca’s shadow.”
“I’d rather swallow my tongue.”
She laughed. “Good, because that’s boring and we have much better things to talk about.”
“Like what?”
“Like whether or not we can find wine-flavored gelato.”
…
By the time we made it back to the beach, I was as drunk as a clam. Or was it happy as a clam? Let’s just say I was an inebriated mollusk having a good time. Katerina and I never found wine-flavored gelato, but we found more wine and the best chocolate gelato I’d ever had. I ordered three scoops in a waffle cone and lapped it up as quickly as I could, but it was no use. I’d ordered too much and most of it was melting down the sides. Katerina refused to help me eat it, instead standing a few feet away, pretending she didn’t know me.
After I’d only managed to eat a quarter of it, I tossed it in a roadside bin and tried to clean my hands. It was really no use. Katerina wrapped her arm around mine and tugged me back toward the beach. I protested, calling for another bottle of wine, though I couldn’t even remember how many glasses I’d had by that point.
We went back to the beach stickier and tipsier than when we’d left. As soon as our feet hit the sand, Massimo swept Katerina up and kissed her, complaining that we’d been gone too long. She squealed and batted his chest, swearing she’d shout if he didn’t let her down. I gagged and complained that my gelato was nearly coming up just from watching the two of them.
“I swear, I can feel it in my throat.”
“Oh Georgie! You just want in on the action, don’t you?” Katerina tried to turn it on me, to pull me into their hug, but I ran away before they could chase me down, now actually feeling my gelato coming up from the exertion.
I tried hard not to find Gianluca as we approached the group, but he was sitting in the chair I’d rented.
He glanced up as I approached, squinting his eyes to see me as I stood in the sun.
“Did you manage to get any of the gelato in your mouth?”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
He pointed at my chest and I glanced down to see melted gelato on my chest and down the front of my white bikini top.
Chiara, who’d taken the chair beside Gianluca, laughed and handed me her water bottle. “Here, you want to wash it off?”
I brushed it away. “No thanks. I’m good.”
It felt good to turn her down, like I was taking the world’s smallest stand or something. Really, I was just ensuring that my bikini became permanently ruined. She and Gianluca exchanged an isn’t she a sad sap glance and my blood boiled. Were they a full-on couple now? With their own little love language? Pathetic.
“We’re all ready to head back,” Adrianna said with a long moan. “We were just waiting for you two.”
“What? Already? It’s not even late.”
Paolo moaned. “The sun is nearly set! We’ve been here all evening.”
Crap. Had Katerina and I been gone that long? It had seemed as if we’d only sat at the beachside bar for a few minutes.
The group wouldn’t listen to my protests. They packed their beach bags and headed back to the train. I tried to get Gianluca’s attention, but he wouldn’t look at me. Chiara stuck close to him and I couldn’t hear what they were talking about, which was probably for the best. Gianluca had been with women since his wife’s death and though he swore he wasn’t ready for a relationship, he seemed plenty capable of bedding Chiara. Utter bullshit if you ask me. I’d put the group together. I’d thought to bring Chiara along and had I known she really fancied Gianluca so much, I would never have thought of doing it.
Katerina sat by Massimo on the train ride back and Chiara stole the seat beside Gianluca, which left me sitting by Adrianna the bore. She plopped down in the seat and pulled out after-sun cream for her skin.
“Want some? Smells like vanilla.”
“Nope.”
Rule number one in any war: don’t accept face cream from the enemy camp.
Gianluca and Chiara were seated in the row behind me, speaking Italian so fluidly it nearly made me cry. It was a travesty that Gianluca ever spoke anything but Italian. In English, his words were sharp and confident, but in Italian they were absolutely seductive. I adjusted the towel around my middle (my sarong had seemed much too complicated to put back on) and tried hard to block out the sounds of love spewing around me.
Chiara giggled and Adrianna sensed my unease.
“She really loves him, you know,” she whispered so they couldn’t hear.
I nodded, not keen on continuing the conversation.
“They’ve known each other forever. He used to summer here and they had a fling once when they were teenagers.”
The longer she spoke, the tighter my stomach twisted. I let my head fall against the train’s window and squeezed my eyes shut. Would it have been too much to ask for the train to derail and kill everyone on board but me and Gianluca?
He was supposed to go for me. If he ever wanted to date someone or bed someone, it was meant to be me, not Chiara. It just wasn’t fair that the first amazing man I’d met in years didn’t fancy me back. Of course he doesn’t, Georgie, you have gelato down your front and enough alcohol in your system to bring down a horse.
I spent the remainder of the train ride dissecting what Chiara had that I didn’t. She was Italian. She had lovel
y brown skin, quite a few shades darker than mine. Her black hair was long and silky. She wasn’t supermodel gorgeous or anything, but she was pretty and quite kind. You know who else can be kind? Kidnappers who tell you they’ve got puppies and candy inside their windowless van. He really ought to be careful with her.
I groaned and my breath fogged up the glass. Gianluca was perfect though, beyond. Utterly annoyingly beautiful and smart and thoughtful. The man could have picked anyone (me!) and he’d gone for her! A colossal mistake if you ask me. I should tell him what a mistake he’s making, I thought. There aren’t any puppies in that van, Gianluca, and if there are, they probably have rabies.
“We’re here,” Adrianna said, bumping my shoulder and interrupting my emotional nosedive.
“Oh.”
I stood, adjusting my towel and beach bag, and chanced a quick glance back at Gianluca. He was talking to Massimo with his back turned to me, but Chiara saw me looking. There was recognition in her eyes and I whipped back around, trailing after Adrianna off the train.
What a mess. The day had started out so brilliantly. I was knackered from swimming and sunning and I knew I’d turned another shade darker. I’d had some of the best food in Italy and my muscles were sore from all my laps in the sea. But somewhere along the way, Gianluca had pulled away, distancing himself from me so he could make a real play for Chiara. God, he’d just gone on and on about how he wasn’t ready for a relationship, and now he was flirting with her like that?!
My brain hurt from trying to think past my tipsy haze.
“That was wonderful,” Katerina sang as our group stumbled out onto the platform. “We’ll have to do it again before the summer’s finished.”
“Absolutely!” Chiara clapped.
“Count me in,” Paolo said, tossing his soccer ball from one hand to another.
I stood off the side, wanting to get on with it. I only had a short walk back to my hotel room and I was sick of being around Gianluca and Chiara. If he was going to invite her back to his villa, I’d rather not be around for it.
“All right, well night everyone,” I said, tipping an imaginary hat and turning on my heel. Katerina called after me, telling me to phone her as soon as I arrived home, but I didn’t respond. She’d understand when I explained it to her in the morning.
My sandals slapped against the stairs on my way down from the train platform and when my feet hit the main road in Vernazza, I breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn’t just Gianluca I was pining for, it was Italy. Even if he went off with Chiara, I still had this place with its golden light and its painted buildings and its overflowing abundance of sea and sky. I strolled down the road toward my hotel, slightly aware of my tipsy state. I wouldn’t have walked around in London alone like this, but Vernazza was different. Besides, my walk wasn’t long and the sun hadn’t completely set. Tourists were still out in hordes, buying up gelato and wine and finishing their dinners at a snail’s pace. I was halfway home when a hand wrapped around my forearm and pulled back.
“Wait up, will you?”
Gianluca’s voice sliced through the sounds of Vernazza and then the feel of his hand wrapped around my forearm sank in; he’d come after me.
“I’ve been calling your name.”
“I didn’t hear.”
He grinned. “Which is why I had to plow through a family of five back there just to get to you.”
He wasn’t kidding. Just over his shoulder, two parents were glowering at us and brushing dirt off their son’s shorts.
“Wait, did you really trample a child to catch me? That’s so sweet—unless, wait have you really hurt him?”
He waved away my concern. “He came out of nowhere, really. He’ll be okay.”
I started laughing then, really laughing, and all the pent up rage from the last few hours just sort of faded away. Gianluca wasn’t going home with Chiara.
“All right, well you’ve caught up to me. Now what?”
“I didn’t want you walking home alone. It would be a shame if my only employee drunkenly drowned in the sea before the place even opens.”
“Well I’m nearly halfway home, and I haven’t even tripped. I’m not half as drunk as you think I am, although I’m less than a quarter as drunk as I should be.”
“Good, then let’s stop in here for a drink.”
We just happened to be standing in front of a small restaurant close to the main square, and they just happened to have a small table available in a dark corner nearest the kitchen. It was noisy, but we huddled over our bottle of wine and replayed the day, picking our favorite parts and moaning about how annoying it’d been when Massimo and Katerina went into lover-mode.
“I invited the lads for you to get on with and you completely ignored them.”
“Did I? I let one of them rub sun cream on my back for Christ’s sake.”
He laughed. “And then you proceeded to ignore him for the next eight hours.”
“Well I must have been focusing on Katerina or something.”
He shook his head, trying to hide his smirk. “And nice going inviting Chiara by the way,” he said sarcastically. “I tried to pry myself away from her half a dozen times.”
“What?! I thought a bigger group would be fun. And it didn’t look like you seemed to mind all that much.”
“She’s been infatuated with me for years, and I haven’t had the heart to set her straight. The signals bounce right off of her.”
“Poor Gianluca has to deal with girls throwing themselves at his feet.”
“Ha ha. You didn’t even respond to Matteo half the time. The poor bloke has probably lost all his self-esteem thanks to you.”
I moaned and tossed back another sip of wine. “All right, let’s toss today in the bin. I swear next time you arrange for me to meet a decent bloke, I’ll mount him right then and there in front of everyone.”
He looked away and laughed.
We made our way through a shared dinner and another bottle of wine. We people-watched when we were tired of talking and teased each other at will. We were still in the restaurant when the owner wanted to close up shop, and he nearly had to pry us from our seats in the end. He shot me a smile and started rattling off to Gianluca in Italian. I had no clue what they were going on about, but as we strolled down the dark street toward my hotel, Gianluca insisted that it wasn’t anything too serious.
“He said you were pretty and asked if he could take you out.”
My mouth dropped. “What’d you say?!”
“That he’d have to get in the back of your very long line of suitors.”
“Oh god, you didn’t. Gianluca, that’s embarrassing!”
“It’s true isn’t it?”
“You and Katerina are absolutely mad. People will think I’m this desperate Englishwoman.”
“Well aren’t you?”
I nearly smacked him after that, but he wrapped his arm around my shoulder and swore he was only kidding.
“I don’t think I like you much anymore,” I declared as we approached the outside of my hotel.
“Ah, c’mon. You don’t mean that.”
I was fumbling with the hotel door, trying to push when it clearly said pull just above the handle. He laughed and reached round me, pulling it open with a cheeky little smile.
“Now I positively hate you.”
He moved around me and started to lead the way up the stairs.
“Wait. Where are you going?”
“I’m walking you home.”
“I’m home.”
“Not quite. I’m very thorough.”
I laughed and brushed past him, and we started a sort of silly race to see who could get to the top of the stairs first. He reached out and grabbed my arm, yanking me back to try to stop me from getting there first.
It was all a bit ridiculous, fueled by the wine and sun. I wasn’t quite drunk, but I was in a carefree little haze.
We continued stumbling up the stairs, making so much noise I knew I’d get a compl
aint about it in the morning.
“Shhhh, Gianluca!”
He pressed his face against my shoulder, trying to muffle the sound of his laughter. I tried to keep a straight face for the two of us, but it was like trying to stop falling dominoes. Nothing was really funny, but we were laughing anyway, gripping on to one another to keep from tipping over.
“Oh god, we’ll have annoyed everyone by now. Hurry, my room is on the next landing.”
“I can’t believe you left me with Chiara all day,” he moaned after me, ignoring my insistence that he lower his voice. Fortunately, Chiara didn’t live at the hotel, so there was no danger of her overhearing him. “You could have saved me at some point.”
“You two were glued together! Why do you think I left with Katerina? I thought you two were going to shag right there on the beach—y’know, stuff your crevices with sand and all that.”
He started laughing again—apparently the idea of shagging Chiara was quite funny—and then I was nearly dragging him up the stairs to my hotel room door.
“Look, I’ve gotten us home safely,” he said with a wide, proud smile once I’d unlocked the door.
Even like this, silly and disheveled, his beauty disarmed me.
“I’m sorry, what exactly was your contribution to the journey? You nearly knocked me down the stairs a dozen times.”
He pushed open my door and tugged me in behind him. “No. No. I was saving you, keeping you from rolling down.”
We were inside my room then. I closed the door and dropped my beach bag. He was still going on about how he’d saved me, laughing once I’d done a proper impression of him and Chiara at the beach, but then he turned the tables on me, teasing me about the gelato I’d spilled down my front. I tried to hit him with my towel to get him to stop, but he reached out and grabbed it from me. We fought for it, but he was stronger. One moment I was tugging it away from him and then he yanked it hard and I went flying to him. Still, I clung on to it. He pried my fingers from the towel one by one as I squealed and tried to keep hold of it.
It was all innocent until the precise moment it wasn’t.
Until I realized I was pressed right up against him in nothing but my gelato-stained bikini.