by Rich Amooi
He shrugged again and answered. “I don’t have the life that warrants a relationship right now. I’m on the road all the time. I traveled over a hundred and fifty days last year. I don’t expect to do it forever, but until that changes, it wouldn’t be fair to whoever I’m with if I'm gone so long. It wouldn’t be fun, either.”
“You’re right. Doesn’t sound like fun at all.”
Marco glanced at her lips. “Life should be fun.”
Her heartbeat sped up as she glanced at his lips. “Yeah. Fun is good.”
Fun is good? What the hell am I doing? He saw me look at his lips! You’re leading him on by doing something like that. Remember? He has a messed up life and won’t be around for you. He’s the last person you should be involved with. Knock it off!
“So, you’re in the wine business . . .” said Lilly, hoping to break the spell and change topics. “That sounds fascinating.”
“It is,” he said, pushing his empty plate forward on the table so he could use the place for his elbows. “But I think I’ll be ready for a change soon.”
“Doing what?”
“I’d like to make the wine myself.”
Lilly sat up in her chair. “Like having your own winery?”
He nodded. “I know the business inside and out. When I’m not working on the road to promote our brand and expand the business, I’m at the winery working on promotions, marketing and managing the tasting room. I learned everything so I could step in at any moment, in any position, if help was needed or if we were short-staffed. What about you? Happy with your career?”
“Mostly, yes. I’ve got a lot of responsibilities, but I enjoy what I do.”
“Which is?”
“Vice president of HR.”
“Isn’t that a boring job?”
“Hey.”
Marco threw his palms in the air in defense. “Just asking!”
“Maybe it’s not the most exciting job in the world. I get to work closely with people, which is nice. I used to work in sales many years ago and I enjoyed it much more, but it wasn’t the most stable job in the world. So I switched careers.”
“Why does the vice president of HR come to Italy for work?”
Lilly didn’t want to bore Marco to death, but the man seemed interested. “To convince a former employee who lives here now to come back and work with us. That’s who I’m meeting for coffee at four o’clock.”
Ten minutes later she ate the last bite of food on her plate and wiped her mouth. “One of the best meals, ever.”
“Good to hear it. I think the only thing you need now to make the day complete are a few sweet Italian kisses.”
“Pardon me?” she said, glancing at his lips. Was he really suggesting such a thing?
“Don’t tell me you’ve never tried them.”
Lilly knew Marco had a lot confidence, but for him to just come out and offer to kiss her caught her off guard.
“What do you say?” he continued. “Are you game? I may be a little biased but you are so missing out if you say no.”
Lilly took the last sip of her Chianti and tried to clear her mind. Was he really talking about kissing her? Maybe she was just drunk and hallucinating. In fact, she didn’t feel well. She hadn’t kissed a man in over three years and just the thought of it was making her nervous and nauseated. She heard a gurgling sound in her lower belly.
What the heck was that?
The gurgle was followed by an abdominal cramp. All this was anxiety from a possible kiss? The pain was getting worse. She felt bloated. She needed to head to the bathroom.
“You okay?” asked Marco.
“I’m fine,” she lied as a stronger cramp came on.
“Does this mean you’ll pass on the dessert? If you don’t like the regular Italian kisses, most likely they’ll have mint chocolate.”
Dessert? That’s what he was talking about?
Lilly felt like an idiot. She also felt like she was going to throw up.
She stood as her stomach rumbled. “I need to use the ladies’ room.”
“Of course.” Marco stood up and pointed to the corner. “The women’s bathroom is over there on the right side.”
She forced a smile and was already moving toward the bathroom. “Great. Be right back.”
At least she hoped so. All of sudden it felt like she was going to die.
Chapter Nine
Yup. Lilly was dying.
That was the only logical reason to explain what was happening to her body at the moment. The cramps were pulling her intestines every which way but loose. The bloating was on a mission to test the maximum elasticity of her stomach. The nausea was encouraging the food she had eaten earlier to return to the stage for an encore performance.
Somebody please put me out of my misery.
On top of the pain was the embarrassment of knowing Marco was back at their table wondering what the hell had happened to her for the last thirty minutes. Or had it been longer? She had completely lost track of time. In all the hurry, she’d left her purse hanging from her chair. She couldn’t even check the time, but she knew she had to get out of there soon to go meet Roberto for coffee at four o’clock.
Another giant rumble from her stomach told her maybe she wasn’t close to finished there.
Lilly had been fine all day and even had a wonderful meal. She’d ruled out food poisoning since it was obvious the chicken was super fresh. Plus, Marco had told her the restaurant was Michelin-starred, a supposed sign of quality.
Even the bathroom was clean—except for some writing on the back of the stall door. Most of it was written in Italian, but there was one person who requested in English that Lilly call for a good time. Too bad she didn’t have a pen or the energy to write down the phone number.
A good time sounds nice.
Another abdominal cramp came on, prompting her to latch onto both sides of the toilet seat and hold on for dear life. She could feel the pain start at the back near her kidneys, slowly build, rolling forward like an ocean wave, straight to her stomach.
“Ahhhh,” she screamed, her voice echoing in the bathroom.
Her body wasn’t done torturing her yet. Now she was sweating like an Italian pig. She didn’t even want to imagine what it was doing to her makeup. She reached for the toilet paper to wipe her forehead and—
“No way.”
There was exactly one square of paper left in the dispenser.
“No, no, no, no . . .”
She pulled off the square, removed the empty role, and stuck her hand up into the dispenser to feel around for another roll of toilet paper.
Zip.
She twisted around hoping to find a roll on top of the water tank behind her.
Zilch.
She looked around the floor and to the other side.
Zero.
“This can’t be happening.”
With her skirt hiked up and her panties stretched from kneecap to kneecap like a ping pong net, Lilly opened the stall door and waddled toward the next stall like a drunk penguin. The sound of kids playing in the alley outside of the bathroom turned her attention toward the open window, but she blew it off. There were far more important things to worry about. She entered the other stall in search of precious toilet paper.
She reached down to the dispenser. “No way!”
No toilet paper there, either.
Unbelievable.
There was only one thing she could do now. As uncomfortable as it would be, she needed to use paper towels to get the job done.
Lilly opened the stall door and made her way toward the sink, frowning. “You have got to be kidding me.”
No paper towels.
Just an old-fashion electric hand dryer hung on the wall.
“Bingo,” she said, perking up when she saw what was folded on top of the hand dryer. A newspaper with a picture of the Pope on the front page. She grabbed the newspaper and unfolded it, concluding that there would be plenty there to get the job done. “Better
than nothing.”
A loud knock at the door made Lilly jump. She stood motionless in the middle of the bathroom with her skirt still hiked up. Why did they knock? Three other women had entered earlier and none of them knocked, so it made little sense.
She searched her brain for the right word in Italian. “Ocupado.” She wondered if that was Spanish, not Italian. “Occupato.” Maybe they spoke English. “Occupied,” she added for good measure.
“Lilly, you okay in there?”
Oh, God.
Marco was just outside the bathroom. He wouldn’t come in, would he?
More aliens invaded Lilly’s body and were rearranging her inner organs, but she needed to ignore the pain and say something, anything. “I’m okay.”
She waited for a response, hoping he bought it.
“You don’t sound okay.”
Crap. Remain calm. “Go back to the table and relax. I’ll be there shortly.”
“If you say so.”
“I say so.”
At least the cramps had taken a breather. Now to the mission at hand, clean up.
“Bella!” said a young male voice behind her, so clear—as if he were in the bathroom with her. Lilly turned around and froze. Through the opening of the bathroom window she saw a phone pointed at her. Behind the phone was a smiling teenager.
She screamed and covered herself with the newspaper. The guy disappeared and a few seconds later there was another bang on the door.
“Lilly? What’s going on in there?”
Marco again.
“Nothing! Just thought I saw a spider.”
“I’ll kill it for you. I’m coming in.”
“No! Don’t you dare. I’ll be out in a moment.”
He hesitated for a moment and then answered. “Okay . . .”
Lilly entered the stall again and locked the door. She sat back down on the toilet and prepared to use the newspaper to clean up. She stared at the Pope on the cover of the newspaper. “Cleanliness is holiness, right?” She carefully tore the Pope’s head from the newspaper and placed it face down on top the toilet paper dispenser. “You don’t want to see this.”
Ten minutes later, Lilly stumbled out of the bathroom, a little low on energy, but cleaned up and feeling better. She was worried about the time. How long had she been in there?
She passed the kitchen and glanced at the chef preparing a pasta dish, smiling, adding cream to the pan. She stopped and bit the inside of her lip. “Cream. Lactose.”
Lilly was lactose intolerant.
Whatever she had eaten had cream in it. That had to be it.
She couldn’t believe she didn’t figure it out sooner. She continued to their table and Marco stood, a worried look on his face. He rubbed Lilly’s shoulder. “You sure you’re okay? You were in there forever. You look pale.” He pulled out her chair. “Please sit down.”
“We should go. Plus, I need to get some fresh air.”
“I’ll take care of the bill if you’d like to wait for me outside. I’ll be right there.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it.” Lilly grabbed her purse hanging from the chair and waved to the woman. “Grazie.”
Lilly went outside and stopped near the front window. The deep breath of fresh air she took in was a combination of relief and happiness entering her lungs, traveling to her insides that were ripped apart by Hurricane Lactose. If that episode in the bathroom was anything like having a baby, she would adopt.
Marco came out of the restaurant and closed the door behind him. “At first I thought maybe you tried to crawl out of the window and ditch me. But after we heard screams coming from the bathroom, I knew something was wrong.”
“Something wrong would be an understatement,” she said, feeling fifty pounds lighter. “There must have been cream or cheese in that meal. I’m lactose intolerant.”
“Oh, God. Why didn’t you mention that earlier when we arrived?”
She shrugged, wondering the same thing. “I wanted to believe you when you said it was good to be spontaneous. I’ve missed doing things in the spur of the moment and wanted to try it again. Look where it got me.”
She contemplated telling Marco about the peeping Tomasso in the bathroom, but decided against it. She’d had enough humiliation for one day.
Marco turned to her, a sincere look on his face. Or maybe it was guilt. “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. Lactose happens.” She pulled her cell phone from her purse to check the time and saw two missed calls and two voicemails. “Just a second. I need to check this.” Lilly tapped the voicemail button.
“Hi, Lilly. It’s Roberto. Not sure where you are but hopefully you’re on your way. I can only wait for about another twenty minutes and then I will have to take off. I’m traveling south to visit family in Capri and Positano. Okay . . . hope to see you soon.”
Lilly stared at her phone. “I don’t understand.”
“What?” asked Marco.
“Just a second.” She listened to the second voicemail.
“Lilly, it’s Janet. I was hoping to hear from you by now. I hope that’s not a bad sign. Let me know what’s happening with Roberto. We need him to come back to work for us, so do whatever you need to, to make it happen. Keep me updated.”
Lilly slid the phone back into her purse. “How long was I in the bathroom?”
Marco shrugged. “I lost track of time . . . maybe forty-five minutes.”
Lilly jerked her head back. “Oh God. We need to go. Now!”
“Where?”
“Back to my hotel. I was supposed to meet Roberto a half hour ago. The future of my company could on the line. What’s the fastest way to get there?”
“The train. Can you run to the station with your stubbed toes?”
“I guess I have no other option.”
Lilly followed Marco down the cobblestone street to the end and they turned down the main artery of the city. Five minutes later they passed through the turnstiles of the train station and were heading toward her hotel on the train. Out of breath.
She tried returning Roberto’s call but there was no signal underground on the train.
“This is bad,” she said, sighing. “Really bad.”
“Don’t worry. Everything will be okay.”
Lilly wasn’t so optimistic. She had a bad feeling about this.
Ten minutes later they exited the train at the Colosseum exit and crossed the street, entering the hotel and running straight back to the cafe.
Out of breath and feeling weak, she scanned the cafe for Roberto.
Marco stepped forward, also looking around. “Do you see him?”
Lilly shook her head. “I don’t think he’s here.”
“Try calling him again.”
Good idea. She pulled her phone out and dialed Roberto’s number. “Straight to voicemail again.” She felt the pulse in her neck and temples, letting her know that she was screwed. She turned to Marco and gave him a look to make sure he knew just how unhappy she was.
It was his fault. If she would have stuck with her plan, none of this would have happened.
“Why are you looking at me that way?” Marco asked. “You’re scaring me a little.”
She took a step toward Marco. “Roberto is on his way to Capri.”
“Oh . . .”
“We’re late because of you,” she said, poking him in the chest. “You need to fix this.”
“I’m sorry—I really am, but what can I do now?”
“You need to help me find Roberto. We’re going to Capri.”
Chapter Ten
The next morning, Lilly grabbed her carryon and made her way down to the lobby of the hotel. She was headed to the island of Capri with Marco. She needed to talk with Roberto and get him to sign the contract, but she couldn’t believe she was going to do this with Marco. Not a surprise she barely slept at all last night. Why was she nervous? They were going to find Roberto, not go away for a romantic weekend.
This was strictly busine
ss.
Still, she couldn’t overlook that Marco was a good-looking and kind and fun. What did that have to do with anything?
Business.
Marco probably thought Lilly was being spontaneous, but she had spent two hours doing research about Capri on the hotel’s business center computer.
She entered the lobby and spotted Marco waiting by the entrance.
He smiled and approached her. “Good morning, Lilly Pilly.”
She smirked. “Good morning, Marco Polo.”
He chuckled and kissed her on both cheeks. “You look great.”
“No compliments. This is business, nothing more.”
He placed his hand on his chest. “Wow. Where did that come from?”
“Never mind. What’s the plan?”
She had been wondering all morning what he would come up with. She was ready to let him know right then and there and they were not going to improvise, but first she wanted to hear what he had to say.
Marco smiled. “I’m so glad you asked! We’re taking the train to Naples. From there, we take the ferry to Capri. And if it makes you feel any better, I bought the train and ferry tickets in advance. I planned ahead!”
“I’m impressed. Then what?”
“Not a clue.”
Lilly sighed and pulled a piece of paper out of her purse. “I had a feeling you would say that, so I did a little research last night and printed this out in the hotel’s business center.”
He stared at the paper. “Let me see.”
She handed him the paper, and he analyzed it. “This has got to go.” He moved like he was going to tear it into pieces.
“Give me that.” She grabbed it back out of his hand. She needed to protect that document and at least keep it as a backup plan. Better safe than sorry. She folded it and slid it back into her purse. “Okay, let’s go. And behave.”
Lilly gave him a playful swat on the hand.
Marco grinned. “Behave is my middle name. Anyway, I was kidding about not having a clue. It shouldn’t be too difficult to find Roberto’s family’s home. Capri is tiny and is mostly populated with tourists. All the locals know each other, so all we have to do is ask one of them. Should be easy. What’s Roberto’s last name?”
