Lilliana Jones and the Temple of Groom

by Rich Amooi

  Chapter Six

  “Marco was right.” Lilly stared out the hotel room window at the Colosseum. There it was, the most popular tourist attraction in all of Italy right before her eyes.

  Calling her. Taunting her. Waving her over.

  Lilly wanted to go inside at that moment, but would have to wait four days to see it. She shook her head and unpacked. She wouldn’t feel good going out to see Rome, knowing that everything was still in her suitcase.

  Lilly unpacked, then made a phone call to Roberto to meet the next day for coffee at four in the afternoon. Roberto was happy to hear from her, which was a great sign.

  If everything went according to plan, she would just need an hour or two to convince him to come back to the States and join her team again. She needed to make him an offer he couldn’t refuse.

  Lilly left the hotel toward her first tourist attraction, a Roman temple called the Pantheon. Could her future husband be there waiting inside for her? Only time would tell.

  It was only a twenty-minute walk to the Pantheon, and it felt great to move and stretch. She was thirty minutes behind schedule, which wasn’t too bad, considering how crowded the city was and how much traffic there was. She could make up that time and then some during the rest of her church/temple tour after the Pantheon.

  As she strolled down Via dei Fori Imperialli, she took a few deep breaths and tried to get adjusted to being in another country. She couldn’t believe she was in Italy. The streets were jammed with cars and taxis, all of them moving back and forth from one lane to the other like they couldn’t make up their minds. How the people driving the scooters weren’t killed on a daily basis was beyond her. Not to mention the pedestrians. This city was alive, but she needed to be careful.

  Everywhere she looked there were churches with the most exquisite stained glass, domes painted white, gray or gold, pillars in front of most buildings, statues of Gods and famous Romans, and fountains. Fountains everywhere.

  She wanted to stop at least fifteen or twenty times along the way to the Pantheon, but knew she couldn’t or it would throw off her entire schedule. A little farther down she made a left on Piazza della Madonna di Loreto and continued walking. A few minutes later she stopped in Piazza di Venezia and stared at an immense white marble monument.

  Lilly checked her notes and realized this one was called Il Vittoriano, a monument dedicated to the first king of Italy. It was gorgeous. She couldn’t stay but she pulled out her camera and snapped a quick picture.

  “Beautiful,” she said to herself.

  “Bella!” said the male voice with a thick Italian accent behind her.

  Lilly had studied basic Italian expressions before the trip and knew that bella meant beautiful. Obviously the man was agreeing with her—it was an impressive monument.

  “Bella, bella.”

  Okay, maybe he was a little more emphatic than she was but she had heard that the Italians were almost as passionate as the Spaniards.

  She flipped around and stared at the smiling man who wasn’t looking at the monument. He was looking at her. He wore white pants and a matching white cotton jacket. His light blue shirt had three buttons open at the top, exposing a little too much chest hair for her liking. The sports watch on his wrist was so large it could have doubled as a kitchen wall clock.

  He slid his sunglasses down his nose a little, whistling and taking his time to check out Lilly from head to toe. “Bella, where have you been all my life?”

  “California.”

  His eyes grew wide. “California! This is wonderful! I have been expecting you. Welcome.”

  “Thank you.”

  Lilly stared at him for a moment. This couldn’t be her future husband. No way could it be that easy. Not that he was bad-looking at all. Except for the giant patch of hair exploding out of his open shirt, he was handsome and even had a little bit of sexy stubble. But how was she to know when she’d meet her future husband? Madam Love mentioned nothing about that.

  Most likely this guy was just one of the typical Italian guys she had read about. Someone who hits on anything that moves. But she didn’t want to just blow him off without knowing for sure. Maybe she would have to wait for a sign to know if he was the one. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to wait too long because she had things to do and didn’t want to waste time with someone she knew wouldn’t be a part of her future.

  “I have a girlfriend,” he said. “But today, for you, no girlfriend.”

  The sign couldn’t have been any clearer. She told him no way in hell with the shake of her head and continued walking. She suspected she would have to put up with more of that but it came with the territory.

  “I want to make love to you,” he yelled from behind her.

  She stopped and turned around. “And what about your girlfriend?”

  He thought about it for a moment. “You mean you want her to join us?”

  She huffed, turned her back on the man, and continued her walk toward the Pantheon.

  “Can I get you a hot drink to melt the ice?” he yelled.

  Lilly ignored him and pressed forward. A few minutes later she passed between the huge marble columns and two giant bronze doors of the Pantheon. She headed to the middle, stopped, and stared up into the largest unreinforced concrete dome in the world. She was in awe of the architectural geniuses who had built this masterpiece almost two thousand years ago and marveled at how it was still one of the best preserved of all ancient Roman buildings.

  It didn’t take long before her mind was on men. Man, to be more specific. Too bad all the men inside the Pantheon were with women. She wasn’t going to meet anyone there.

  Twenty minutes later Lilly couldn’t understand how she was further off schedule. It made little sense at all, but she had to go, already getting a little stressed out.

  Lilly slid between an older couple and headed right back out. So much for enjoying the second most visited tourist stop in Rome. But what came next was even worse. Lilly’s plans came to a screeching halt when she arrived at a cathedral and it was closed.

  She hurried to the next church, and it was closed as well.

  “I don’t get it,” she said to herself.

  Madam Love’s words popped back into her head.

  There’s a temple connected to the man Lilly will meet. Her future husband.

  She wasn’t expecting it to be so difficult.

  Lilly sat on a bench in front of a nut shop and searched through one of the travel guides. She found out the majority of the churches and temples weren’t even open after seven in the evening. What had happened?

  She knew exactly what had happened.

  She’d carefully done research but forgot to check the hours of operation! Amazing. She was suddenly tired and frustrated. She bought a bag of cashews from the nut shop and walked back toward the hotel, unexpectedly thinking of Marco.

  A cute couple walked in her direction, hand in hand, smiling, kissing. Like they didn’t have a care in the world.

  She wanted that.

  Not only someone to enjoy Italy with, but to enjoy life with. She wasn’t that picky.

  Lilly wanted someone she connected with. Someone she was attracted to, but most importantly, someone she could have great conversations with. Because if the physical attraction ever wore off or their body parts ever drooped so low they were unusable, at least she’d still be able to enjoy the company of the other person.

  Her first evening in Rome—albeit a short one—was a disaster. Unfulfilling. This was not the way she wanted to see Italy.

  Lilly snorted after she remembered Marco’s words.

  This is no way to see Italy.

  Okay, maybe he was right. Again. Not that he’d ever know since she would never see him again. She stopped walking and thought about it for a minute.

  Would she see him again? She opened her purse, took out his card, and read it.

  “Marco Santini. General Manager. Santander Winery.”

  If you want to see Italy th
e right way, the way it was meant to be enjoyed and remembered and treasured, I would be happy to show you.

  Maybe it was because of how frustrated she was or perhaps she was getting jet lag and wasn’t thinking straight, but she was so tempted to call Marco.

  So tempted.

  Marco had a surprising amount of energy considering he flew over fifteen hours to get to Rome. Maybe he was motivated. As soon as he confirmed that everything was ready to go with their booth and sponsorship at the Lazio International Wine & Spirits Exhibition, he was free to do whatever he wanted for the next few days until he left for his trip next week to Australia.

  He looked forward to traveling down south to Sorrento and seeing Stefano and Daniella. Other than that, everything else was up in the air and he would just take it day by day. The main thing was to relax and enjoy the moment.

  He smiled, thinking of Lilly and her ridiculous itinerary. She had to be the most uptight woman he had ever met. He wondered how long she would last in Rome all by herself. She was too stubborn to even consider the possibility of him showing her around but he gave her the benefit of the doubt, anyway.

  Truth be told, he would love to hear from her. It was always more fun sharing experiences with someone else. Yes, he’d been too busy working these last few years to have any fun at all, but now he had free time and wanted to take advantage of it.

  With or without her, he would have fun.

  Marco pulled the vibrating phone out of his pocket and eyed the caller ID. Someone from the US was calling but he didn’t recognize the number.

  “Go to voicemail or not go to voicemail?” he asked himself. “That is the question.” He sighed and answered the call. “Hello?”

  “Hi, Marco. It’s me, Lilly. We met on the plane.”

  Marco chuckled. “I don’t think it’s necessary to explain who you are. You told me all your deepest, darkest secrets while you were sleeping.”

  “Not funny.”

  “Okay, I’ll laugh in private. How are you holding up so far with your touristy stuff?”

  “Not so good.”

  “No? Can I help?” There was silence on the end of the phone call. “Lilly?”

  “Maybe this is a bad idea.”

  “Well, if you are calling to ask me if I would help you rob a bank or pull off the biggest art gallery heist in the history of Italy, then you’re right. Bad idea. But if it’s something as simple as taking me up on my offer of showing you Italy the way it was meant to be seen, that’s not a bad idea at all. All you have to do is ask.” More silence. “Lilly?”

  “Yeah. I . . . uh . . .” Lilly let out a deep breath into Marco’s ear. “Please. Yes, please. I’ve had a horrible time since I’ve gotten here so if you would be so kind as to show me around, I’d appreciate it.”

  “It would be my pleasure, Lilly.”

  They made arrangements to meet in the morning around ten, after breakfast. Marco slipped the phone back into his pocket and smiled. He didn't know what they would do, but it didn’t matter. He’d figure that out when he saw her. Then he would make sure she had the time of her life. He knew it wouldn’t be easy though. A person as stubborn and set in her ways as Lilly was always a tough nut to crack.

  Chapter Seven

  The next morning Lilly went through her clothes, trying to decide what to wear that day. She didn't know what she and Marco would be doing, which made her nervous.

  Her phone rang, and she checked the caller ID. It was Marco.

  “You’re here already?”

  Marco laughed. “Yes. I’m in the lobby. You surprised I’m on time?”

  “I guess I was hoping you’d be late. I’m just trying to figure out what to wear.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Can you come down now?”

  Lilly sighed. Typical guy. “As soon as I change. Tell me what we’re going to do so I can plan my clothes accordingly.”

  “It’s a surprise.”

  “I told you before. I don’t do spontaneity.”

  “Well, then we need to break you out of that habit.”

  Now he was sounding like Colette. If this were another intervention she wouldn't have any part of it. It had taken all of her strength to get on the plane to Italy and too much change all at once would freak her out. She was certain she would end up hiding in her hotel room for the rest of the trip or trying to change her flight to head home early. She didn’t need that pressure. She got plenty of that at home from Colette.

  “Lilly Pilly?”

  “Yes, Marco Polo.”

  “Quit thinking so much. Come downstairs. Trust me.”

  She shook her head. “Fine. I can’t believe I’m going to do this, but if something happens, you’re one hundred percent to blame.”

  “I will take full responsibility.”

  “Darn right you will.”

  She disconnected and headed downstairs. As she got out of the elevator, she spotted Marco waiting by the reception area. Smiling.

  Holy cow.

  Had he been that good-looking on the plane?

  He wore dark blue jeans and a white short-sleeved shirt with the top two buttons undone. At least he didn’t have a giant wad of hair coming out of the chest area. Did he have any hair at all?

  “Are you looking at my chest?” he asked, kissing her on both cheeks. “Good to see you again.”

  Lilly felt her face heat up. “Good to see you too, and no, I wasn’t looking at your chest.” She thought about it for a moment. “Okay, maybe I was for a moment. It’s just I’ve noticed that Italian men like to have a lot of buttons open and many of them have an unusually large amount of hair.” She looked around to make sure nobody heard her. “Well, not all of them. Maybe just the ones hitting on me.”

  Marco laughed. “An American woman in Italy. The men here will find you hard to resist. I’d like to tell you it'll be better now that you'll have a male companion, but they don’t care about that either. You will still get hit on.”

  “Great.”

  “But forget about that—let’s go. Time for some fun.”

  “Okay, but just remember. I have a business meeting this afternoon at four. So whatever we do, we need to be back here before then.”

  “No problem.”

  Lilly followed Marco through the front doors of the hotel to the sidewalk. She wanted to know where they were going and it bugged the heck out of her. Maybe they should have planned this out. That’s what any sensible person would have done. It’s better to get all your ducks in a row so there’s less chance of one of those ducks crapping all over you.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  He pointed across the street. “There.”

  She followed the direction of his pointing finger to the Colosseum. “What are you talking about? You know I already have plans to go there in a couple of days. I already paid for the ticket.”

  “Give away the ticket to someone.”

  Okay, this man was insane and needed to be locked up for a long time. There was no way she was going to the Colosseum now and there was no way she would give away her ticket.

  “You’re thinking too much,” he added.

  “Thinking is good. And I’ve concluded that you are crazy. I’m going back to my room.”

  Marco laughed.

  “Don’t laugh at me. I’m serious.”

  “Why can’t you go now?”

  “Because it’s wrong! And it wasn’t planned! Besides, you can’t get us in there. Most tickets are probably already sold out and those who don’t have tickets have to wait in a line for a few hours just to get in.”

  Marco scratched his chin. “Tickets? You need tickets to get in there?”

  “This was a mistake. Goodbye.”

  She turned to head back inside the hotel and Marco grabbed her arm. “I’m kidding. Sorry. The reason we don’t need tickets is because I have a connection. I’ve already talked to him and he’s expecting us.”

  “He’s expecting us? What? In the back alley? Sounds pretty s
hady to me.”

  “First of all, the Colosseum doesn’t have a back alley. Number two, you agreed to let me show you Italy the right way. At least give me one day for you to decide if it was worth it or not. Then, if you think you’d like to go back to your way, the wrong way, so be it. But I guarantee you that will not happen.”

  The man was so sure of himself she was wondering if it was all ego or if he knew what he was doing. Maybe she was the one with the ego. What if she found out he was right and all of that obsessive planning wasn’t necessary? But he made a good point. Why not give him an opportunity to prove himself? He was a nice enough guy. Why not?

  “Okay,” Lilly answered. “One day. Show me what you’ve got.”

  Marco grinned. “It would be a pleasure. Take my hand.”

  She stared at his extended hand. “Why?”

  “Once again. Trust me.”

  She stared at it again and then grabbed it. “Okay . . .”

  “Stay close. Let’s go.”

  They crossed the street, weaving in between cars, people, bicycles, and Vespas. It was a little scary, but also exhilarating to watch him. He was so confident, and she liked that. He guided her toward the entrance of the Colosseum and then moved toward an unmarked ticket window. They were surrounded by hundreds and hundreds of people, but Marco seemed unaffected by it all.

  He leaned in and said something in Italian to the man in the booth. Nothing she recognized from her language program. The man opened a drawer, pulled out two tickets, and slid them to Marco under the glass.

  “Perfect,” he said to himself. “Okay, follow me.”

  Marco led her around the corner and she had to admit she enjoyed his take-charge attitude. She was surprised to find she enjoyed holding his hand. When was the last time she had held a man’s hand? She couldn’t even remember. It didn’t matter, she enjoyed it.

  She reeled her thoughts back to reality once she realized she was checking out his broad shoulders and firm butt.