by Sophie Love
She decided to ask in another cafe, half hoping that the first waiter was joking around. But unless everyone had the same cruel sense of humor, the Oceano Hotel was indeed right at the top of the cliff.
Keira was just about ready to weep. But she remembered what Elliot had said, the ominous tone of his words. There was a lot resting on her, pressure, responsibility. And she wanted to do it for herself as well, to prove she was no damsel in distress. If she could make it from her hotel to the station in Naples without anything terrible happening she certainly could climb fifty flights of stairs with her heavy case.
*
Keira’s legs ached. Sweat dripped from her. Her arms seemed to have gone numb from yanking the heavy case up flight after flight of steps. She passed cute souvenir stores and gelato stores, a delicatessen covered in ivy, a church. At points she had a hand railing to help her, at others it was more like walking through a narrow alleyway with walls on either side. At least during these points she had shade to protect her, otherwise the bright sunshine beat down on her.
She was overtaken several times by well-prepared tourists in hiking gear and locals who were clearly very accustomed to the hillside villages’ multitude of steps.
Panting and wheezing, Keira stopped for a rest, sitting down clumsily on the steps. It was the first time she’d actually looked at the view, and it was breathtaking. Keira felt like she had suddenly entered a dream world, or had been sucked into a painting. The ocean, the houses, everything was so picturesque. This was the view she would have enjoyed from the bus if she hadn’t been so worried about plunging off the mountainside!
She took her time to collect herself, breathing in the warm ocean air, letting the crowds of people file past her, and realized for the first time in a very long time that she was smiling.
Suddenly, someone was hurrying down the steps behind her.
“Miss? Miss, did you fall?”
She looked at the young man, clearly a local. He seemed very at home on the steps, like a mountain goat hopping and skipping along.
“No, I’m fine,” Keira said. “Just catching my breath.”
He looked at her case. “You carried this all the way?” His eyes were wide with surprise.
Keira nodded, feeling accomplished. “Yes, I did.”
“Here, I should carry it the rest for you.”
Feeling elated by her achievement thus far, and a little giddy from feeling like she was standing on the top of the world, Keira nodded her agreement.
“Thank you, that’s very kind.”
He grasped the handle and heaved it up a step.
“Where have you traveled from?” he asked as he deftly negotiated the steps. The case didn’t seem as heavy for him as it had been for Keira. He must be used to carrying things up the steep hillside steps.
“I’m from New York,” Keira told him. “But I traveled from Naples.”
He pulled a face. “A nasty place, Naples. You are lucky to be here now. Positano is the best village in the whole of Italy. Most romantic too.”
Keira was pleased to hear that. She needed some romance and quickly.
Finally they reached the top of the hillside. Keira saw the Oceano Hotel ahead of her, just the other side of the road. It looked like a nice place to stay, with a roof terrace and a large porch-style area outside. She was ready to forgive Heather for last night’s terrible hotel and guide experience now that she had seen this place.
“Ta-da!” the young man said, gesturing to it.
“Thank you so much,” Keira gushed. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate some help. People have been less than friendly so far.”
But before she’d even finished her sentence, she realized that the man was holding out his hand, palm up. She frowned, at first wondering whether he was expecting her to hold it. Then it dawned on her that he was asking for a tip. But he’d only carried her cases twenty steps! She’d already walked up a hundred or more on her own, she hadn’t needed him for the last little bit.
“I haven’t got any money,” she said, still frowning.
“It is customary,” he replied, his expression still hopeful.
“I don’t care if it’s customary,” Keira replied, her patience reaching its end. “I have no money. I was pickpocketed in Naples.”
His expression changed immediately. “You should have said that right away. I carried that case for you in good faith.”
Keira just wasn’t in the mood to hear it. Something in her snapped. She’d had enough of people treating her poorly in this country, of not helping her when she clearly needed help!
“Get lost!” she shouted. “Go on, go away! I didn’t ask for your help, you just pushed it on to me!”
The boy made a tsking noise, which Keira assumed was some kind of local insult, and walked off.
Keira could tell she had gone red with anger by the burning feeling in her cheeks. Still fuming from the altercation, she heaved up her bag, her muscles protesting as she did so, then crossed the street to the Oceano Hotel.
She stumbled inside, half falling with relief. The air conditioning was on strong and it blasted her, making the sweat on her forehead and neck become instantly cold.
Half slumped against the wall in the lobby, Keira panted. She wasn’t trying to be dramatic but she felt like it had been an ordeal even getting here.
Suddenly, someone was moving toward her. She looked over as a man approached.
Romeo…?
He looked exactly like the man from her dreams, with dark, lash-lined, brooding eyes. It was like Keira had stepped into a photo shoot and the fashion model had decided to approach her.
Assuming he was a staff member, she tried to wave him away, to show him she was okay. But she could hardly speak from the effort it had taken her to get here.
“Miss Swanson?” the man said as he drew up to her.
He touched her elbow.
Keira was surprised to hear her name. She just about managed to stammer, “Yes?”
“My name is Cristiano,” he said. “I am your tour guide. There was a mix-up and I thought I was meeting you at the hotel. I hope you did not have any trouble getting here.”
Keira couldn’t contain it anymore. Whether it was from relief at having made it, exhaustion at how difficult it had been, sunstroke from being out in the pounding sunshine, or shock at coming face to face with her stunningly beautiful Romeo, she could no longer hold her body up.
“Miss Swanson?” she heard Romeo say, his concerned face appearing ahead of her. “Miss Swanson, are you okay?”
Keira’s knees gave out and she collapsed over her case, sprawling out on the cold tiled floors. Before the world went black, the last thing she saw was Romeo peering down at her.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Swoon was the only word Keira could think of to describe what had just happened. Cristiano had literally made her weak at the knees. She flushed with embarrassment, not just because of her swooning, but because of the fact it had happened when she was sweaty, flustered, and angry.
Cristiano bent forward, hand outstretched to help her back to standing. She took it, feeling a spark of electricity race through her body as he used his honed muscles to pull her up. She ended up stopping a mere inch from him. The air conditioning blasted on them. It felt like a scene from a romance movie.
“Is it hot out?” Cristiano asked, his dark eyes burning into her.
“Very,” Keira replied in a whisper, feeling dumb. She hoped it excused her disheveled appearance.
“Shall I take that for you?” Cristiano asked, moving away.
Keira looked behind at her case, lying messily on the floor of the foyer. Before she answered, Cristiano had already done so, lifting it as though it weighed nothing.
“Come, it is this way to check in.”
Keira followed him, her legs wobbly beneath her.
“I feel very bad about the mix-up,” Cristiano said as they walked. “Did you have to get here on your own?”
“I
t was no problem,” Keira replied. Then on second thoughts, she added, “Actually I was pickpocketed, which wasn’t great.”
Cristiano looked horrified. “This is all my fault.”
“Not at all,” Keira replied. “Once it’s morning in New York my company will sort everything out.”
“Until then, you must take this,” Cristiano said, holding out some bills.
Keira shook her head. “I couldn’t.”
“You must,” Cristiano insisted. “It is my fault. And you must be hungry. Let me take you to dinner to apologize.”
Keira wasn’t about to turn down the opportunity to dine with the hunky Cristiano, so she nodded her gratitude.
They made it to the reception desk and Cristiano conversed in quick Italian with the woman. Keira felt like everything was running smoothly now that she was in his care. If only he’d been the person she’d met at the airport instead of Antonio!
The receptionist handed her a key and pointed her in the direction of her room.
“I will wait for you,” Cristiano said. “Take your time. When you are ready I will take you to a beautiful restaurant on the cliffside. We will have a wonderful dinner. Is that okay?”
Keira wanted to squeal with delight, but she kept her cool. “Sure, that sounds fine.”
She followed the corridor until she found her room. To say it was better than the last was an understatement. Though the room was tiny, it was clean, tidy, and brimming with character. The last room felt like it had been given the cheapest decor possible, whereas this one seemed very authentically Italian—the word chic sprung to Keira’s mind. She’d be quite comfortable here.
Keira looked out the window at the view. The sun was starting to set over the ocean and it looked phenomenal. Even her fear of heights was not so bad here!
Remembering that Cristiano was waiting for her in the foyer, Keira dressed quickly, trying to cobble together a confident and sexy outfit. When she looked in the mirror she saw with horror that her makeup was smudged. She cleaned her face quickly—wiping away the sticky residue left from yesterday’s shower—and put on a fresh face of makeup as fast as possible. There was no time to sort out her hair, so she twisted it up onto her head in a casual messy bun. She wasn’t completely satisfied but at least she looked halfway human now, rather than a sweaty, sunburned mess! Although she had to accept that she was no match for the gorgeousness of Cristiano, unfortunately.
She quickly texted Bryn.
Met my new guide. He IS Romeo.
Bryn replied quickly with: Go for it.
She smiled to herself. That was exactly what she wanted to hear. Bryn would never let a little thing like the extreme hotness of a man stop her from at least attempting to date him. And neither should Keira. She could always pretend to be someone else, after all, just like she’d practiced on the plane ride over. Except rather than making up a silly wine connoisseur persona she could just pretend to be someone more confident. Channel her inner Bryn.
She hurried downstairs to the lobby, excited to catch up with Cristiano again. But when she reached the foyer, Cristiano was nowhere to be seen.
Disappointment gripped her. Had she just imagined him? Had he been a hallucination caused by sunstroke and desperation? Or had he just changed his mind about sharing his evening with a disheveled wretch of a woman?
Just then the woman at the desk who’d checked Keira in looked up at her. Keira looked away, trying to play it cool and hide the fact that she felt like a kid stood up on prom night.
“Cristiano went on ahead to get a table for your dinner,” the receptionist told her. “He is at a place called Trullo, a very popular restaurant. It is in the cliffside.”
She handed Keira a business card for the swanky-looking restaurant. It had a small map on the back, directing Keira through a series of small alleyways and, of course, more staircases.
“Glad I’m not wearing heels,” Keira told the receptionist, adding her thanks.
She hurried out into the darkening evening. The oppressive heat from earlier had faded, and now there was a wonderful warmth in the air, like a California spring evening.
Keira followed the small map, losing herself in the tiny streets of Positano. Now that she was less flustered and furious, she could really take the place in. It had such a romantic and dreamlike quality to it, like something imagined in the mind of an artist. History and culture seemed to seep from the very walls. As she walked, she could imagine all the footsteps that had worn the stone steps over the centuries.
With her head in the clouds, Keira almost stumbled upon the restaurant by accident. Like the other places she had seen in passing, this one was set into the cliffs with an outside terrace. All the tables were for two—they clearly only ever catered to couples in this place, and Keira could fully see why. The view, the candles, the fabric canopy, the twisting ivy plants—everything about the restaurant oozed romance. For the first time since leaving Viatorum, Keira felt confident in her ability to write this article.
From a table ahead of her, she saw a figure stand from his chair. She stepped back with surprise, shocked once again by the gorgeousness of Cristiano. In the dimming evening light and the dancing warmth of the candles he looked even more stunning. She reminded herself of Nina’s words about finding a new man to get over Shane, of Shelby giggling over the thought of Keira hooking up with a passionate Italian lover, and Bryn’s advice to go for it. She wasn’t doing anything wrong, was she? She was free and single now; Shane’s complete lack of contact over the last few days had made that painfully clear.
Cristiano held her seat out for her and Keira blushed as she took it. She tried to calm her nerves but the beautiful cliffside atmosphere was enough to take her breath away. Adding Cristiano to the mix completely blindsided her.
“It’s not every day I get to eat outside,” Keira said, as a waiter came over and presented her with a menu. “Or beside the ocean.”
“You have an ocean in New York, no?” Cristiano asked.
“Yes, but it’s not like this,” Keira replied.
From here, they could see all the twinkling lights of other restaurants beneath them, and the ocean reflected the stars like a mirror.
Cristiano ordered them a bottle of wine, which arrived in a silver bucket filled with ice.
“I have never been to America,” he said, filling Keira’s glass. “It seems very exotic to me.”
“Exotic?” Keira laughed. “It’s not. I mean, not compared to Italy.”
“Yes, my country is quite beautiful,” Cristiano agreed. “But yours is vibrant. Alive.”
“I suppose it is,” Keira replied.
She sipped her wine and Cristiano looked at her eagerly. “You like it?”
She nodded. “It’s lovely.”
“Pecorino,” Cristiano said. “Goes very well with seafood.”
“Pecorino?” Keira exclaimed, laughing as she remembered the bags of smelly pecorino cheese stuffed into Antonio’s small car. “I thought that was a type of cheese.”
She instantly wished she hadn’t mentioned it. It wasn’t the sort of thing the sophisticated, confident woman she was pretending to be would say.
“It is.” Cristiano smiled. “It is both. But I can assure you that that is wine in your glass and not cheese.”
His joke took her off guard, in part thanks to the fact he kept his face completely neutral as he said it. But then he cracked into a smile, his whole face lighting up majestically. Keira laughed as well. Bolstered by the interaction, she took a risk.
“My last guide was a big fan of pecorino. The cheese, that is, not the wine. His car was full of it. And I mean full.”
Cristiano laughed, his pleasant chuckle causing a thrilling sensation to race through Keira’s whole body. The risk had paid off. Perhaps there wasn’t as much need to pretend to be sophisticated as Keira had thought. He seemed to like her company as she was.
When the waiter came over, she took Cristiano’s advice and ordered calamari for start
ers.
While they waited for their food to arrive, Keira found herself relaxing into Cristiano’s company. He had a very laid back way of speaking, and the way he looked at her as she spoke, with a curious expression, was very endearing. She couldn’t quite tell if he was struggling to understand the language or whether he was completely fascinated by her.
The starters arrived—calamari on rocks for both of them—and Keira tucked in. It was fresh, delicious.
“Do you like it?” Cristiano asked.
“Very much,” Keira replied.
“It complements the wine?”
Keira nodded. She liked the amount of concern Cristiano seemed to have for her comfort and enjoyment. It made a vast change to Antonio.
“May I suggest a Chianti with our main?” Cristiano said.
“More wine?” Keira asked.
He nodded. “Of course. And it goes very well with the lamb shank.”
“You’re the expert,” Keira said, smiling, remembering her pretend wine connoisseur persona from the airplane.
The waiter took their order and disappeared, leaving them alone again. Keira twirled the stem of her wine glass in her hand, looking Cristiano over with curiosity. She just wanted to get to know him better, find out all about him.
“What do you do?” she asked. “For your job?”
“This and that,” Cristiano replied. “Many different roles within tourism. This is my first season as a guide. I am often a waiter.”
“Ah,” Keira said knowingly. “Hence the wine knowledge.”
Cristiano nodded. “Precisely.”
“But what do you want to do?” Keira asked, probing a little more deeply.
“What do you mean?”
“For your career. In the future. You’re young, aren’t you? Have you thought about what you want to devote your life to?”
Cristiano shrugged. “I suppose not. I just want to be happy.”
It was a surprise to Keira that he could be so laid back about his job, his career, his future. But perhaps that was just the Italian way.
