“You’re right on that front. The kitchen was functional yet cramped and would all need to be updated. This place is also at the top of my budget.”
“You don’t want to take out a mortgage on your first apartment. I personally think that it’s the wrong floor plan and way too expensive.”
“But that stained-glass crest embedded in the living room window is so special!”
“If it were the 15th century, I could see why it mattered, but times have changed.”
Rose laughed. “You’re right. I think I can eliminate the Machiavelli Mansion from this house hunt.”
“Let’s clear our heads and go do some sightseeing for an hour or two while you think about the other two options. Maybe you should talk to your mom about it.”
“The last thing I want to do right now is call Doris and get some lecture on how I threw away a good job to pursue a dream.”
“Okay, if you don’t want to consult your mom, then what about calling your brother, Jack? He’s always struck me as levelheaded and may surprise you with his insights.”
“I like that idea,” said Rose.
“Just don’t forget to mention that your real estate agent is extremely good looking with a great sense of humor.”
“Not funny!”
“Options are good,” Zoey mused.
“What are you talking about?” demanded Rose. “Lyon is not an option.”
“Hmmm,” said Zoey. “I beg to differ. I saw the way he was looking at you. He’s definitely interested.”
Chapter 4
“ZOEY, WAKE UP!” SAID Rose excitedly.
“What time is it?” she asked sleepily with heavy-lidded eyes.
“Morning!”
“What’s up?”
“I’ve picked an apartment!”
“Are you sure?” Zoey opened one eye to stare at her. “I thought you were going to consult Jack or your mom before putting your money down.”
“Nope. I want to do this all on my own.”
“Wow! That’s quite a statement. Maybe you should have a cup of coffee first. Don’t keep me in suspense any longer.”
“Hold that thought; maybe I should talk to Lyon one more time.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’m going back to sleep.” She rolled over and called, “Wake me up when you decide!”
Pacing back and forth on the balcony, glancing over the Arno, Rose took the plunge and texted Lyon, asking him to call her. Since it was so early in the morning, she didn’t expect to hear back from him so quickly. Her phone immediately rang.
“I was hoping you could meet me to talk about my house decision,” Rose said.
“Happy to help. When and where?”
“Are you available now? I totally understand if it doesn’t work. Would it be possible to see one or two of the apartments one more time?”
“I’ll see what I can do. I can meet you in the lobby of your hotel in, say, thirty minutes. Does that work?”
“Perfect! Ciao.”
Rose wrote Zoey a note saying she was meeting Lyon. She put her blond hair into a makeshift bun and threw on a pair of black jeans and a T-shirt. Grabbing her purse and sunglasses, she raced downstairs.
It was Saturday and the hotel was quiet. Sunlight streamed through the lobby windows, casting a glow on a bookcase with old leather-bound volumes of Italian and French books, a white bust of a Roman soldier and Egyptian marble bookends. Another glorious summer day lay ahead. Anticipation hung in the air, and she was alive with excitement over moving here. Would this feeling fade with time? Possibly, but Rose doubted it.
Rose spotted Lyon waiting. He wore faded jeans, a black shirt and brown leather cord around his neck; her heart skipped as their eyes met. Maybe she hadn’t been willing to process how much she liked his soulful blue eyes and laid-back personality.
“Morning,” she said warmly. “No suit?”
“I’m technically off duty today.”
“Are you sure this is okay? This is a big decision and I want to get it right.”
“Rose,” he said softly, “I’m happy to help you.”
Their eyes locked again, and Rose realized that his smile made her feel like anything was possible. “Got it.”
“So, I thought we could go grab a cup of coffee and something to eat, before we look at the apartments. Will Zoey be joining us? If so, I’ll call a cab. If not, you can ride with me.”
“She’s asleep. I’ll check in with her in an hour and see what she wants to do. She’s been so helpful to me. It may be fun for her to take a break from house hunting and do something else.”
“It’s early yet, but I know this great little place where we can get an espresso. Do you mind hopping on the back of my Vespa?”
“Sure,” said Rose, admiring the vintage bike and the Sanskrit tattoo on Lyon’s left forearm. He handed her a helmet and they took off, gliding in and out of the streets of Florence with ease. It was hard not to appreciate his lean and muscular build as she held on to his hips. Noticing the Roman numeral ten on his right wrist, Rose was beyond curious. They whipped around corners and easily dodged pedestrians. Rose reveled in her surroundings, feeling so alive in the present moment. A short time later, they pulled in front of a small café with a green awning.
“A friend of mine owns this place,” he explained as he took her helmet and placed it side by side with his. “Have you ever tried fresh cannoli?”
“No, I haven’t. What is it?”
“So, you really haven’t lived yet!” he joked. “It’s a fresh Italian pastry with ricotta cheese inside. Roberto is Sicilian and he makes the best breakfast cannoli in Florence. Any coffee?”
“I’d love an espresso.”
Inside the café, Rose observed silver floor-to-ceiling display cases behind the front counter, which hadn’t quite been filled with customers. The place was immaculate and the row of chocolate croissants mouthwatering. Rose’s stomach rumbled as she ogled some cinnamon buns, greedily inhaling the scent of toasted nuts, woody coffee and fresh bread. A bearded man in a chef’s hat stopped what he was doing to greet Lyon and speak to him in torrents of Italian. Rose decided then and there that she needed to work harder to understand the language because they spoke so quickly. Lyon made the introductions, and Roberto smiled warmly at her, respectfully addressing her in English.
“Hello, Rose. Such a pleasure to meet you. Lyon says that you are thinking of buying a place here. Please excuse my poor English.”
“Your English is far better than my Italian. I have much to learn.”
“You’ll catch on quickly. You’ll find we’re a welcoming group. Lyon says that you’ve never had cannoli before. I am honored to have you taste mine.”
Rose offered to pay for her breakfast, but Lyon refused. A short while later, Roberto handed him two white bags filled to the brim. Lyon gingerly placed their breakfast in the pouch on the bike.
“Do you mind holding the coffee?”
“Sure. Where are we going?”
“There’s a park not far from here that has a wonderful view of the city. I’m intrigued to hear your decision.”
“You really gave me some great options and—”
“Hold that thought. Let’s go.”
Rose held the bag with her right arm as Lyon weaved them around several street corners. She eyed the bag, thinking their coffee was perilously close to spilling everywhere. Fortunately, he slowed to park in an alley. Armed with two bags, they headed up a steep staircase to one of the prettiest parks Rose had ever seen. It was lush and green with a bed of wildflowers to the right.
“Where are we?”
“Giardino Bardini. This is a gem of a place which has some of the best views of the city without all the tourists.”
After a short walk, they picked a grassy knoll with a breathtaking view. Lyon handed her a wrapped cannoli and Rose savo
red her first bite. “This is unbelievable!”
“I told you so.”
“And the coffee made it.” She eagerly sipped the hot brew.
“You passed my test.”
Rose took another bite. “I’m such the multi-tasking teacher. Useful skill.”
“I’m impressed.”
“You must tell Roberto that this is the best breakfast I’ve ever had.”
“He’ll be so pleased. He thrives on compliments.”
“Well,” she said, taking another sip of her coffee. “Let’s get down to business. I’ve easily eliminated one of the three options that you’ve given me.”
His eyes lit up. “That was smart. Which one?”
“I think Machiavelli’s Mansion isn’t right for me.”
“I’m a little surprised by your decision because it has the most colorful history of the three places.”
“I know, I know, but it’s also way above my budget and the floor plan doesn’t work for my lifestyle.”
“I had kind of guessed that,” Lyon conceded. “I could see you were uncomfortable. So, you have two choices left. Which one are you considering?”
“As much as I liked the Master Chef’s loft, it doesn’t have location and, frankly, I don’t need an over-the-top kitchen. So, I think I want to buy apartment number two, Balcony View!”
“That’s great news! The second option is very Florentine in character and the location is practically unbeatable. You’ll also have a bonus room to act as a guest bedroom or studio.”
“I really like having extra space for work or entertaining. Do you think I could see it just one more time before I put my money down?”
“You’re not going to believe this, but I suspected you may want to see this one.” He reached in his pocket for the key. “I’ve made arrangements for us to go back and take a look this morning.”
“Are you really this good at your job?”
“Absolutely.” He paused with a wicked grin. “No, seriously, I just got lucky.”
“Does your family get over here to see you much? This is a huge life change for me.”
“Rose, you may find that you have more company than you really want. My parents and sister relocated to Tuscany, and I have a brother who lives in New York; he gets to Rome regularly on business. We see each other fairly often as well.”
“That works.”
“This could be an exciting day for you.”
“Actually, I don’t need to see it again,” said Rose as she recalled the spectacular view of the city. “Will you write up the contract? I’m sure this is what I want.” They embraced, which seemed like the most natural thing in the world.
“Excellent,” said Lyon, breaking away. “I’m going to have to move quickly because I do think this place is special.”
“Oh no! I hope there aren’t any other offers.”
“It hasn’t come up on the market yet. I think the official listing is scheduled for Monday, so let me get to work. It was my understanding the seller wants a clean cash deal with no contingencies, so I think your situation is perfect. We can put in an all-cash offer with a quick closing, which would be attractive to the seller.” Lyon smiled warmly. “I think you’re going to love Florence, Rose.”
“I’ll bet you say that to all your clients.”
“Actually, you’re the first.” His blue eyes with slight crinkles at the corners hinted at an adventurous spirit.
“Let’s get this locked down. I’ll call the office and have my assistant draw up the paperwork. It’ll probably take the better part of the day to negotiate. Don’t worry, I’ll keep you posted.”
“Sounds great. I’m so excited!”
“I’d really like to make this happen for you, so I need to drop you back at your place and call the seller’s agent.”
“Thank you for everything!”
“Don’t thank me yet. I’ve got to get the deal done first.”
Rose knew her decision would set the stage for what came next in her life. She was ready yet on edge. Questions swirled in her head about whether she could make this journey on her own. It was hard to drown out the voice of Doris, but she told herself that she had to try something new. That it was better to try and fail than get stuck in a routine. I can do this, she thought.
For the rest of the weekend, Rose was tied to her iPhone waiting for updates on whether her offer had been accepted. Lyon sent a series of cryptic texts that he was working on the deal but there was nothing conclusive.
***
By Monday afternoon, Rose and Zoey were tired of waiting around for news, so they decided to tour the Boboli Gardens located directly behind the Pitti Palace, which was once the home of the ruling Medici family in Florence. The vast green spaces were perfectly landscaped and encircled by stunning views of the city. In the hillside above an amphitheater, they saw the Fountain of Neptune.
“Come on, let’s get a selfie in front of the King of the Sea so I can send it to Stan!”
They posed for the camera with Neptune in the background holding a large trident.
“I think Neptune is symbolically springing forth life into the city,” Zoey said.
“Well, I wish he’d breathe some life into my house purchase. I’m trying not to feel like I’m drowning in a sea of anxiety. Why has there been no news? You head home in two days and I really want that apartment!”
“He’ll get back to you as soon as he knows something.”
They walked along the neatly manicured garden paths until Rose’s phone buzzed. It was Lyon. She held her breath and listened. When she hung up, she nearly screamed.
“Well?”
“I got it!” she exclaimed. “The seller accepted my offer immediately and I’ve got a thirty-day close because he’s relocating to Dubai and wants out.”
“Oh, that’s great news!” exclaimed Zoey, who gave Rose a hug.
“I need to get to Lyon’s office and sign the contract right now.”
“Okay, great. I’ll let you head on. I’m incredibly happy for you!”
“I love it! Thank you for helping me through this process. I couldn’t have done it without you. I don’t even want to think about telling my mom.”
“One thing at a time. The Balcony View apartment is amazing!”
Chapter 5
LYON’S OFFICE WAS ADORNED with a mahogany desk and large windows. A black-and-white family photograph on his desk caught Rose’s eye. She looked at the stunning African American woman and serious-looking man in glasses. Also in the photo were two boys nearly the same age, one with brown hair and the other blond hair, along with a pretty young girl wearing a white bow.
“Great picture.”
“Thanks. I’m the kid in the picture that doesn’t look like his parents. My mom is from Namibia and my dad is an English poet.”
“Interesting,” she said, studying the photograph. “But, more importantly, I actually think you do look like the best of both your parents.”
“I love your optimism. It’s refreshing.” He laughed again. “I’ll bet there aren’t a lot of half-black Brits in Charlottesville.”
“Actually, you might be pleasantly surprised. Charlottesville has become much more cosmopolitan than it used to be.”
“Good to know,” he said, picking up a stack of papers; he guided her to a nearby chair so that he could carefully explain the details of the contract. Rose asked several questions but felt she could trust Lyon. Afterwards, he brought in a notary, and Rose felt like she was initialing and signing her life away. At the end of the meeting, she surveyed her final signature on all of the paperwork and paused to look out the large bay window in his office.
“What’s the next step?”
“I’ll need a good-faith deposit, so you’ll need to wire the money in tomorrow morning once your bank reopens. You’ll pay the rest
at closing. I’m meeting the seller on Wednesday and I’ll set up an inspection. Our firm can handle that for you.”
“Sounds perfect. Just email me the dates because I’m sending the rest of my belongings over here once I take possession.”
***
A short time later, they were walking down the street when Lyon stopped.
“Oh, I almost forgot! I have something I want to show you before we head to the restaurant to celebrate.” He paused to get his bearings. “Do you mind if we take a detour?”
“Sure, no problem,” said Rose. “So, where are we going?”
“Santo Spirito Basilica.”
“Now I am intrigued.”
Rose crossed crowded streets and hurried along in anticipation; Lyon took her hand and guided her along the narrow sidewalk next to him. The dull-looking exterior of the church caught Rose off guard as she studied the plain white facade. It was the type of building that one could pass by each day and not even notice. Her curiosity piqued, she eyed Lyon warily, wondering what he had in store for her. When they stepped inside, the beauty of the interior took her breath away as she looked around the peaceful Renaissance sanctuary.
“Brunelleschi designed the interior.”
“This is stunning. Look at all of the little chapels.”
“When Lorenzo de Medici died in 1492, Michelangelo moved out of his palace and into a community of Augustine monks who were associated with this basilica. These monks allowed him to study anatomy in the hospital adjacent to the church.”
“You know, I taught a class on Michelangelo’s study of anatomy just last week. My students were horrified yet amazed at the concept. Needless to say, it was a lively discussion.”
“Michelangelo was a true genius. His study of anatomy was the only way for him to create such lifelike sculptures. Thanks to the monks, Michelangelo sculpted this rendition of a nude Jesus Christ on the cross. It’s recently been restored and brought here.”
Rose was awestruck by the four-and-a-half-foot Renaissance masterpiece that appeared nearly lifelike in the nave. The carving was exquisite, and the proportions of the saint’s nude body were perfection.
Sunrise in Florence Page 5
