by Sophie Love
“No joke!” he replied defensively. “People come here to find lovers. It is true. Ask anyone.”
He practically shoved her inside the pokey shop. Inside were lurid yellow walls and tables crowded with computers. Antonio spoke in fast Italian to a young man nearby, then looked at Keira.
“This boy is speaking to his lover. He will have an interview with you.”
“What?” Keira asked, shocked.
“Get your pad,” Antonio barked. “Come on. I have found you an interview.”
Feeling unable to defy his orders, Keira pulled her notebook and pen from her purse.
“Well, I’m writing a piece about falling in love in Italy,” she explained to the young man.
The man laughed then, though it was more like a hyena’s cackle. Keira pursed her lips.
“Is something funny?”
“No, no,” the boy said, looking amused and trying to wipe the grin from his face. “Ask your questions.”
Keira took a deep breath. “So, tell me, have you found love here?” She gestured around her to the Internet cafe.
“Sort of,” the boy said. “I found a girl I like. A date.”
“Okay. And that was through the Internet? A message board, something like that?”
Internet dating wasn’t the angle Keira had been expecting to take, but maybe there was something in it. Perhaps she could link the history of Italy with the new evolving technologies younger people used to find love. Maybe there was a way she could link the piazza outside the church, which had once been a meeting ground for lovers, with its proximity to the Internet cafe.
But then the boy spoke and dashed her plans.
“I am only here because my phone was stolen. We met through one of those apps. You know. Swipe left. Swipe right.” He grinned cheekily.
Keira deflated. Dating apps weren’t exactly Italy specific. There still might be something to her story though. Maybe the Italian youths embraced those kinds of technologies in different ways from their American counterparts.
“So, do you think it’s love?” Keira asked. “With this girl you met on the app?”
“Of course,” he said. “She is beautiful. It is always love when you meet a girl that pretty.”
“There are lots of pretty girls,” Keira said. “What makes this one so special you can claim to love her?”
He shrugged again. “I love them all. If they are beautiful, I love them.”
Keira realized then that her definition of love and this young man’s differed greatly.
Just then, a woman in the seat beside leaned over then, chiming in, “Your assignment is naïve. Italy has no romance. Naples, especially. Have you seen the city?”
Keira’s brief encounter with Naples so far hadn’t filled her with any sense of romance at all. It was a crowded, dirty, intimidating place, like the worst parts of New York City. But she’d been hoping there might be an underbelly of romance beneath the grime, some kind of angle she could take; passion and anger were both hot-headed emotions, after all.
The woman continued ranting, much to the amusement of the other Internet cafe patrons.
“The men here chase women, sweet-talk them, say it is love, but they are all having affairs. It is just a game to them. Breaking hearts. Everyone is out for themselves. They say they love you because it is fun for them but the love does not endure. How many lovers do you have?” she demanded of the boy Keira had been originally interviewing.
He chuckled and shrugged in his nonchalant, arrogant way. “Seven. Maybe more.”
“You see!” the woman cried, passionately. “And he tells them all, Oh baby I love you, you are the only one for me. Pigs. The lot of them.”
The heated nature of the conversation was making Keira feel very uncomfortable.
“So you don’t think Italy is the most romantic country in the world?”
The woman shook her head emphatically. “That is a myth, just like the monogamous man is also a myth!”
The young man beside her laughed aloud. Like the rest of the people in the cafe, he seemed amused by her passionate anger. Keira felt awful to have caused the scene.
She looked up at Antonio. “I’ve got all I can from here, can we head back to the hotel now?”
The experience was making her exhausted.
Antonio gave her his displeased look, as though she were acting like an ungrateful brat, but stood and headed out of the cafe. Keira followed, looking back over her shoulder at the passionate argument that had erupted between the woman and the man.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, then ducked outside, leaving chaos in her wake.
*
Keira’s hotel was on a main road, which was somewhat wider than the ones Antonio had been driving down so far. The buildings here were made of dark concrete. Wooden green shutters covered their windows and Italian flags hung from their balconies.
Antonio turned down a small alley that led to a courtyard within the buildings. There were scooters parked haphazardly all around.
He pointed Keira in the direction of the hotel.
“I will see you in the morning,” he said from the driver’s seat.
Realizing he wasn’t going to help her with her case, Keira got out of the car, mumbling her gratitude, and got her luggage from the trunk.
She went into the lobby. Here, at least, it was well air conditioned. Other than that, the place looked cheap and shabby. In the foyer was an old desk and threadbare couch, with modern mismatched lamps dotted around. Keira wondered why Heather had booked such an unpleasant hotel for her. Was Viatorum having money problems?
At the reception desk, she checked in. The elevator was out of order so she had to carry her case up four flights of stairs.
Her room was tiny, without even a desk. Surely Heather knew that she was supposed to get her a room with desk! How was she expected to write tonight without one?
She tested the bed. It squeaked as she put her weight on it and the mattress was so firm it felt like it was made of wood.
In the en suite bathroom, Keira found a tiny shower, toilet, and sink. She tried to turn the shower on in order to test the water pressure but nothing happened. Then she saw that there was a coin slot.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said.
She grabbed some loose coins from her pocket and placed one into the slot. Water came from the shower head. She held her hand in the thin stream of water. It left a sticky residue on her palms.
At least she would only be staying here one night, Keira reasoned. Tomorrow she’d be taking the train to the Amalfi Coast and would be staying in a town called Positano.
For the first time since arriving in Italy, Keira had a spare moment to herself. She immediately checked her phone. There was nothing from Shane.
Exhausted, she sat on the bed and felt her tears coming. She tried desperately to think of something positive to write for her article but she simply couldn’t. So far, Naples was horrible. She felt sad and alone, and dreaded tomorrow when she would be driven around in Antonio’s cramped car once again.
She’d only just arrived, but already Keira wanted to go home. She tucked herself into bed and cried herself to sleep.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Keira woke with a start to the shrill sound of her phone ringing. It was still dark out; the sun hadn’t risen yet. Her first thought was whether it may be a call from home. But when she picked up her cell, the number wasn’t one she recognized.
“Hello?” she asked, answering the call. Her voice was still raspy from sleep.
“I cannot meet you today,” an unfamiliar voice replied.
Keira frowned, confused. From the bedside table she noticed the time on the alarm clock. 5 a.m.
“I’m sorry, who is this?” she asked.
“Antonio!” came the abrupt response.
Keira rubbed her weary eyes. “Why are you calling me so early?” she said with a sigh, sinking back against the thin pillow.
“Because I cannot meet you today. I have food poisoni
ng. Sick all night.”
Delightful, Keira thought. Then immediately she felt a great wave of relief. No Antonio today. No hairy hands and rudeness.
She searched her still sleep-fogged brain, trying to recall what activity they had planned for the day. They were supposed to be taking a train together to the Amalfi Coast. The thought of taking public transport alone in a foreign country didn’t appeal to Keira, especially since she’d have to find some way to get to the train station in the first place through the dirty, crime-filled streets of Naples. The more she thought about it, the more worried she became. Maybe Antonio was something of a necessary evil.
“Is there anyone else who might be able to accompany me?” Keira asked him.
“I do not know,” came his gruff response. “I am sure the company can send a replacement. Why don’t you call them?”
“I don’t have their number,” Keira refuted. “Everything was organized through my company.”
“So you want me to do it?” Antonio barked. “Even though I am sick?”
Keira gritted her teeth with irritation. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll figure it out.” Then she added sarcastically, “You just rest up and feel better soon.”
She hung up the phone and groaned loudly. How had Viatorum screwed this all up so much? From her disgusting accommodations in a filthy city to the rude and woefully inadequate guide Antonio, the trip had been nothing but a nightmare so far.
It was time to give Viatorum a piece of her mind. She counted back on her fingers and figured that despite the late hour back in New York City, it would be okay to call the magazine. Probably not Elliot, however, so she fetched Heather’s number out of her binder of activities. His assistant answered after one ring.
“Heather, it’s Keira.”
“Keira? But isn’t it, what, five a.m. in Italy?” Heather asked.
“Wow, that was some quick math,” Keira replied, impressed. “Yes, it is. I’ve just been woken up by my delightful tour guide who’s come down with a case of food poisoning and can’t accompany me on today’s excursion.”
“Oh no,” Heather replied. “Do you need me to call the company for a replacement?”
“Actually,” Keira interjected, “the last guy they sent was awful. Is there another company we could use instead?”
“Leave it to me,” Heather replied. “Is everything else okay?”
Keira looked about her at the shabby room. “The hotel’s a bit of a dump,” she confessed.
“I’m sorry, Keira,” Heather replied, sounding genuinely bad for her. “The budget for this trip is a little tight. I might have cut a few corners here and there. It had a good rating online but I suppose when you’re a student your standards are a little lower.”
“It’s okay, I’m checking out today anyway,” Keira replied, as she mulled over Heather’s words about the budget being tight.
Keira ended the call, satisfied that the ever efficient Heather would sort everything out. Then she lay back in bed, trying to coax herself back to sleep. But thanks to her jet lag there was no way her body was going to be convinced that it was still nighttime and she should be sleeping. Instead, she scrolled idly through her phone, looking at all the pictures of Shelby and David’s engagement party on Instagram, feeling more than a little jealous of their happiness, and also sad to have missed out on the celebrations.
As she was looking through her phone, it lit up with an incoming call. To her surprise, it was Elliot’s name flashing at her. She answered the call, confused as to why Elliot would personally be getting involved over the tour guide issue.
“What’s this I’m hearing about the tour company?” he asked. From his tone of voice, Keira thought he seemed very stressed.
“Nothing,” Keira told him. “The guide is sick so Heather is arranging another one. That’s all.”
“But she just asked me for the go-ahead to use another company. A more expensive one. What was wrong with the one I picked?”
Keira’s frown deepened. This wasn’t like Elliot, barking down the phone at her. This attitude was far more reminiscent of Joshua! She prayed this was not the beginning of something unwanted.
“Well, I didn’t feel that the one we had was providing a good service,” Keira explained calmly. “He was quite rude and impatient, and he took me to an Internet cafe to do my interviews, insisting that all the romance I’d need could be found there. I don’t want you wasting your money on them if they’re not going to provide us with what we need.”
There was a long pause. Then finally, Elliot spoke.
“You’re absolutely right,” he said with an air of resignation. “I was trying to cut corners. But your point is valid. We’re not in a position to be throwing money at things that won’t be giving us good results.”
Keira frowned, wondering what Elliot meant by the statement. She coupled it together in her mind with the comments Nina had made in the coffee shop about Elliot being bought out by another company. Was that why he was getting involved in something that was clearly within Heather’s jurisdiction to resolve, when it was evening in New York City and he should be enjoying some downtime? Was there something going on at Viatorum?
“Is everything okay?” Keira asked.
Ever since Ireland, she and Elliot had had a cordial relationship, but it wasn’t like they were friends in any way, or the type of acquaintances who got involved in each other’s personal affairs.
“Of course. This is just a very important assignment and you’re a valued member of the team. I don’t want anything going wrong.”
Keira felt like she’d been suddenly thrust into the position of needing to reassure Elliot. But in reality, she was the one in need of reassurance. Her day yesterday had been a disaster. This one hadn’t started off any better. Was it a bad omen? And if the fate of Viatorum was resting on this article, what was fate trying to tell her? That the trip was cursed? The magazine doomed?
“You sound like you’re under some pressure,” Keira said, using a diplomatic tone. “More so than usual.”
“I am,” Elliot replied. He sighed loudly, as though he’d confessed a great sin. “There are people watching, Keira, higher-ups. I can’t go into a lot of it but it may make us change the entire course of the magazine. I would very much like that not to happen. You know Viatorum is like my child. And my husband. I’ve sacrificed everything for this magazine.”
“You and I both,” Keira told him. “But what do you mean by higher-ups? I thought you were the highest.”
There was a long pause from Elliot. “Just find the story, okay?” he said with finality.
“I will,” Keira replied, but discovered the call had already disconnected.
Her anxiety increased. The call had left her feeling even more bewildered. If Nina was right about the magazine facing a buyout or a competitor then there was more resting on her shoulders than she’d even realized. The whole magazine could be affected by how well she performed on this piece. She’d never felt such pressure before. This wasn’t just about her anymore, or her career, but about everyone at the magazine. Elliot. Nina. They were all counting on her.
She got out of bed, filled with resolve. She could do this, tour guide or none. What were the terrifying streets of Naples really when everyone’s jobs were at stake?
Keira packed up her bags, glad to see the back of the dingy hotel room, and dragged her case back down the four flights of stairs. She checked out, her emotions swaying between relief to be leaving and anxiety for the lonely journey ahead.
She clutched her purse tightly against her chest, gritted her teeth, then headed out into the busy streets of Naples, alone.
CHAPTER NINE
It was another hot day and the garbage smell of the streets around her hotel had become even more pungent. Keira tried not to pay too much attention to the items of clothing strewn across the roads, nor the traffic jam of scooters and cars all honking one another in their haste to get wherever they were going. Rush hour must start early in Ita
ly, she thought.
Stepping cautiously along the sidewalk—where there was one—Keira felt like a fish out of water. She was infuriating herself by being so cowardly. She was a New York journalist for Pete’s sake, and yet here she was tiptoeing like a cat burglar! And besides, everyone she passed seemed far too preoccupied with themselves, rushing on their way to work, busy, uninterested in the cowering American tourist sticking to the shadows. Maybe Antonio had blown the whole crime thing out of proportion in an attempt to scare her. It wasn’t like she’d had much of a chance to get to know him; for all she knew he could have a very morbid sense of humor.
She let herself relax a little, her hold on her purse becoming a little less tight. For the first time since setting foot outside her hotel, the knuckles of the hand she was gripping her case handle with turned back from white to pink.
Miraculously, Keira made it to the busy train station in Naples without incident. She was almost surprised when she made it there in one piece, having navigated her way successfully, without getting lost. Or mugged.
But now she was confronted with a new hurdle, and that was the confusing train station itself.
If the main streets of Naples had seemed busy and noisy to her, they had nothing on the crowded conditions of the station. It felt to Keira as though every single resident and their grandma had decided to take a train today. She was jostled around, shoved, elbowed, and cursed at (in Italian, thankfully, so she couldn’t understand the extent of the rudeness). Babies squealed. Dogs barked. Armed police officers paced around with menacing expressions making Keira feel just that little bit more on edge.
And it wasn’t just people she had to contend with. Keira was quite confident she saw a rat scuttle past her.
All the display screens were in Italian but she recognized the place name she was looking for and went up to the ticket machine. Unlike the machines she was used to back home, this one didn’t have options to select different languages so she had no choice but to struggle through with the Italian directions. She used her translation app on her phone to help, something that seemed to cause the queue behind her to grow extremely impatient and disgruntled.
