Love Like That

by Sophie Love

  “What did you study?” Keira asked, realizing she didn’t know a huge amount about Cristiano as a person. “And where?”

  “The University of Bologna,” he replied. “Have you heard of it? It is the oldest university in the Western world.”

  Keira had to confess that she had not. Her knowledge of the world outside of the US could be woefully lacking.

  Cristiano continued. “I studied literature and linguistics.”

  “You did?” Keira said, surprised. “I majored in journalism but took a ton of literature classes. European literature amongst them.”

  “You seem surprised that we have something in common,” Cristiano said.

  “I suppose I am,” Keira replied, a little guiltily. So far she’d thought of Cristiano as nothing more than a hunk with a friendly personality. It hadn’t occurred to her that he may be intelligent. “I just didn’t take you for a reader.”

  “Then perhaps you should make fewer assumptions,” Cristiano relied with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

  They reached the hotel and Keira headed up to her room to pack her things, ruminating on everything she had learned that day, trying to think of ways to construct her article. When her suitcase was packed, she headed downstairs and met up with Cristiano in the foyer. He took her case and checked her out, then they left the hotel and emerged back out into the sun-baked streets.

  “Are you ready to go to the most romantic place in Italy?” Cristiano asked her.

  Keira nodded. She was excited to see more of the beautiful country.

  “I hope you like boats,” he added.

  “We’re taking a boat?” Keira asked, surprised.

  “Didn’t you know?” Cristiano teased. “Capri is an island.”

  Once again, Keira blushed at her ignorance. But she knew Cristiano was just teasing her, there was no malice in it. In fact, there was a twinkle in his eye. He seemed excited to show her this new place.

  “You will need to prepare yourself,” he said. “It is a magical place. A fantasy land. Are you ready?”

  “As I’ll ever be,” Keira replied.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Warm wind rushed through Keira’s hair as she stood on the dock of the ferry. Cristiano had been kind enough to carry her heavy case all the way down the hillsides for her and she’d found her ability to relax greatly enhanced as a result.

  The waves sparkled beneath them. Keira felt alive as they cut across the deep blue sea, heading toward the distant land mass of Capri. The island looked very small, and could only be a few miles wide at most, Keira thought, but it rose dramatically above the Bay of Naples. It was a sight that took Keira’s breath away.

  When they reached the ferry dock she was eager to dismount and take in more of the sights. Cristiano helped her from the boat, ever the courteous guide, and Keira glanced around her in wonder at the busy golden beaches and the beautiful row of houses along the shoreline.

  Glancing up, Keira delighted in the sight of the white buildings set into the craggy limestone cliffs. Like Positano, Keira’s first impression of Capri was that it seemed utterly charming, with winding pathways leading up through the dramatic countryside.

  Just then, a vintage open-top limousine careened past. Keira instantly thought of weddings.

  “This is what we have here for taxis,” Cristiano told her.

  She thought he was joking but realized from his expression that he was not.

  “People take limos around?” she asked, her mouth agape.

  “Capri is a very rich place,” Cristiano explained. “A playground, some say, for the rich and famous.” Then he added, with a shrug, “But normal people like you and I don’t take the limos. Instead, we will ride the funicular to the top.”

  Curious, Keira followed Cristiano into a strange, sloped terminal building. It looked like a miniature train station, complete with tracks and platforms. The only difference was that everything was built on a steep slope. They joined the queue of people waiting for the next funicular to arrive.

  When Keira caught sight of it chugging down the hillside toward them she almost cried out in surprise. It couldn’t have been farther from the luxurious cream-colored limos! The funicular looked more like a tram, a large, sloped aluminum box with windows. Its strange angled shape looked completely bizarre to Keira and a little jolt of peril went through her at the sight of the extremely hazardous-looking contraption.

  It drew to a halt and all the passengers from inside filed out of the funicular. Once they’d cleared out of the way, the staff member opened the gates and the awaiting crowds surged forward. Keira gritted her teeth. It was now or never!

  Cristiano seemed very at ease and completely oblivious to her stress as he led her to the top pod and climbed inside. Keira slid into the plastic seat next to him, relieved to find that there was a pole she could hold on to.

  Once all the cars were filled with people, Keira heard a whirring electrical noise that told her the journey—and her terror—was about to commence. Then the tram surged upward in a slow and steady motion that felt far too fast and jerky for Keira’s liking. Her stomach somersaulted. She hated the sensation of it, and it was made far worse by the fact they were traveling backward.

  Suddenly, they plunged into a tunnel, the brickworks rushing past, then emerged out the other side. Keira found they were crawling up the hillsides, between houses and shrubs. The higher they went, the more ocean could be seen, and the more Keira shivered with discomfort.

  Then they plunged into another tunnel, this one much darker than the last, with only very weak yellow lights set sporadically into the walls. The tram veered to one side and another passed them, coming the opposite direction. Though the passing point was clearly designed that way, Keira couldn’t help the way every muscle in her body stiffened.

  When they emerged out of this second tunnel, the scenery was much more rugged. There were no houses now, just lush green bushes and bright white flowers. And, of course, the gorgeous twinkly ocean in the distance. Boats bobbed on the surface of the water, looking very small now, and growing ever smaller.

  “Is everything okay?” Cristiano asked her. “You look tense.”

  Keira noticed that she was squeezing the pole very tightly. Her vertigo was becoming more intense the higher the funicular took them.

  “Sorry,” she said between clenched teeth. “I’m a little scared of heights.”

  The tram followed a curve then, making Keira’s heart flutter uneasily. She tried not to think of the height and instead focus on the gorgeous views of wild limestone crags and deep blue ocean.

  Finally the funicular began to slow, and Keira realized with relief that they were pulling into the station at the top. It looked the same as they one they had left minutes earlier, sloped, and filled with people ready to get on board.

  Pulling into the station, the tram juddered to a halt and Keira leapt up, all too eager to get off the hazardous vehicle and onto solid ground.

  “I am sorry,” Cristiano told her as he guided her out of the station. “I did not realize you would be scared. Perhaps the taxi would have been better.”

  Keira shook her head. She didn’t want to be a nuisance. “I’m going to have to get used to the heights sooner or later,” she told him. “The whole town is on a mountain, after all!”

  Now at the top of the cliffs, Cristiano showed Keira to a restaurant where they were to stop for lunch. It was a small, stony building set back into the cliff edge. Keira was still feeling a bit wobbly from the funicular as she took her seat and glanced at the menu. But any jitters she still felt vanished entirely when she saw the food on offer.

  The waiter came over to take their orders.

  “May I suggest we share the seasonal sharing platter?” Cristiano said over his menu at Keira.

  She nodded, leaping at the opportunity to share food with him. It felt very informal, almost romantic.

  The platter arrived, and Keira and Cristiano tucked in, sampling the local fall of p
roduce mushrooms, black truffles, and chestnuts. It tasted divine.

  Then Keira ordered spaghetti with fresh clams for her entree, and Cristiano the seafood special of tuna.

  As they ate, Keira looked out over the town. She soon discovered that Capri was a town of impeccable taste. From the architecture—parts classical, parts Art Nouveau, and crammed with brightly colored villas with gardens filled with flowers—to the fashionable women who negotiated the cobblestone sidewalks in stiletto heels, looking utterly flawless as they did so, to the exquisite flavors of fresh seafood.

  “Come,” Cristiano said once they had finished eating. “Let us see the town. We can get some gelato for dessert.”

  He led her first to the authentic ceramic shops. Inside, Keira marveled at all the beautiful Italian pottery. Plates of beautiful yellows and vibrant blues, vases covered with intricate patterns of flowers. Keira loved every single item and wished she could purchase something to take home and brighten up the gray New York fall. But her bag was heavy enough and, sadly, she left the ceramic store empty-handed.

  Back out in the sunny streets, Cristiano directed her toward the piazza. They passed beneath the clock tower, whose straight, blocky design cast a dark shadow across the tiles. Keira looked up at pretty clock face, painted in the same bold yellow and blue colors of the pottery she’d just seen. Instead of numbers, the clock had Roman numerals, something which delighted Keira. Its hands were made of twisted black metal and in a small alcove above the clock sat two very old-looking bells, both sporting large cracks. Running down the length of it were dark crimson flowers, a gorgeous color that made Keira think of weddings.

  She walked alongside Cristiano, the sun soaking into her skin as they reached the colorful, medieval square of the Piazzetta. Here, it was a hive of activity, filled with tourists, paved with volcanic stone, surrounded on all sides by sienna walls and canopied with multicolored awnings from the outdoor cafes on each corner. Keira was stunned by the beauty of the little town.

  They went into a small gelato shop.

  “It is so gorgeous here,” Keira said to Cristiano as he purchased them both some ice cream.

  He handed her a gelato, nodding his head in agreement.

  “That is why so many of us choose to marry here,” he said. “It is a great wedding and honeymoon destination. One of the best in the world.”

  “I can certainly see why,” Keira replied. “I would probably want to get married in a place like this.”

  Cristiano laughed then. “It is a wonderful choice,” he said. “Take it from me.”

  Keira wondered what Cristiano meant by the comment. She couldn’t be sure but it seemed to her as if he were implying that he himself had experienced a marriage here. Was it something lost in translation? Or maybe he just meant that a friend or relative had married here.

  She found herself hoping the latter be the case, and was shocked by the intensity with which her heart fell at the thought he could be married. It hadn’t even crossed her mind to ask, since he was flirting so openly with her, but after what Vanni had said back in Positano she couldn’t be so certain. Clearly a relationship, even a marriage, wouldn’t stop some Italian men from pursuing another woman.

  “Did you know someone who married here?” Keira asked him, unsure whether she wanted to actually know the answer, afraid of what he may tell her.

  “I did,” was all he replied.

  She didn’t press it any further. She didn’t want to know, or need to know.

  “We should check in at the hotel now,” Cristiano said. “Before it gets dark.”

  They walked down the winding streets to their hotel, which was perched on the side of the cliff, hidden behind foliage. It was small, more like a bed and breakfast than a hotel, but even from the outside Keira could tell it was very beautiful. It had a lush green garden filled with flowers.

  Cristiano held the door open for Keira. She went inside where she was greeted by a portly man who grinned widely.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Swanson?” the innkeeper asked.

  Cristiano looked at Keira, frowning in confusion. “Erm, no, we are not a married couple. I am the tour guide. This is Miss Swanson, Keira, and I am Cristiano. I work with her.”

  The innkeeper turned a deep shade of red. “I think there has been a mix-up,” he said, looking flustered. “I am so sorry. We thought you were a married couple. We have put you in the same room.”

  “Can we be given different rooms?” Keira asked.

  The innkeeper looked even more flustered. “No, I am afraid not. We are only a small hotel and we are fully booked. It is the only room we have available.”

  “It is okay,” Cristiano said. He turned to Keira. “You take the room, I can sleep at my friend’s place in town.”

  Keira couldn’t help but feel a little stung.

  “Are you sure?” she asked.

  “Of course. You need the privacy so you can work. It would not be good for me to cramp your style.”

  “I am truly sorry for the mix-up,” the innkeeper added.

  “It is fine,” Cristiano reassured him. “We have found a solution. There has been no harm done.”

  Keira wasn’t sure how much she agreed with that statement. The whole thing had left her feeling aggrieved, and a little disappointed by how quickly Cristiano had arrived at a solution that involved him being far away from her.

  “While you settle in, I will go and call my friend Tommo,” Cristiano said to Keira. “It has been a long time since we were together.”

  He seemed excited to see his old friend, which made Keira feel even worse about her reaction.

  “Will I see you later?” she asked, already feeling abandoned.

  “Of course,” Cristiano said. “I will meet you for dinner.”

  He handed her a business card for the restaurant they were to meet in, with a map on the back. It seemed easy enough to find but Keira couldn’t help but feel a sense of rejection. Thanks to the hotel mix-up she’d be finding her own way there.

  She watched as Cristiano left, stepping back out into the bright sunlight of Capri, then disappearing from view.

  “I must apologize again for the mistake,” the innkeeper said, picking up her suitcase.

  “It’s fine,” Keira replied, though she failed to keep the disappointment from her tone.

  The innkeeper showed her to her room. It had large windows and the view from them was directly over the Sorrento peninsula. The room itself was stunning and very comfortable, decorated with traditional tiles. The designs on them were the same kinds of floral patterns as the ones she’d seen in the ceramic shop.

  “Is this okay for you?” the innkeeper asked. He seemed very anxious about the mix-up.

  “It’s beautiful,” she assured him. “Really.”

  He left then, and Keira opened her bag, tidying away her things; toiletries in the bathroom, dresses in the wardrobe. She placed her laptop on the desk, then went into the en suite to freshen up for the evening. She washed her face, touched up her nail polish, and styled her hair, then chose a new outfit for the evening. She wasn’t yet brave enough to tackle the hills in heels so she slid her sandals on. Of course she’d much prefer to look elegant and slender but it just wasn’t worth a twisted ankle this early into the trip.

  Finally, she put on her makeup for the night, choosing a striking red lip and dark, smoky eyes. A spritz of perfume and a simple gold chain completed the look.

  When she was satisfied with her appearance, she headed back out to meet Cristiano for dinner.

  The restaurant he’d chosen was, once again, nestled into the cliffside. It was a stunning location and Keira was sure she was about to experience another culinary treat.

  When he saw her approaching, Cristiano stood. He kissed both her cheeks to say hello and she felt a fluttering sensation in her chest.

  Ever the chivalrous gentleman, Cristiano pulled her seat out for her.

  “How was Tommo?” she asked as she sat.

  “Very good
,” he said. He took the seat opposite her. “He is happy to see me and glad to have me over this evening. So there is really nothing to worry about.”

  Worry wasn’t really the correct way to describe what Keira was feeling. It was closer to dejection. But there was no way she was going to voice it.

  Keira watched as Cristiano poured them both a glass of wine. There was a strange sensation in her chest, an uneasiness sitting upon her that was more than just the disappointment she felt about how quickly he’d arranged an alternative place to sleep. She realized that it had to do with his comment earlier about marrying in Capri. Had he been eluding to his own marriage? Was that why he’d been so quick to turn down the shared room with her, because he had a secret wife somewhere he had failed to—or chosen not to—mention?

  It occurred to Keira then, as she sipped her wine and let the alcohol give her a boost of confidence, that she’d rather know the truth than spend the whole time brooding on what-ifs.

  “So you never told me whose wedding it was you attended here,” she said, fixing her gaze on Cristiano’s.

  She noted his amused expression, the way his lips only slightly raised on one side in recognition of her question.

  “I did not think you would like the answer,” he replied.

  Keira felt her heart sink as the possibility of him confirming her fears grew more likely. She chewed her lip, half wanting to just drop it and not know, but realizing at the same time she had to know. If her Romeo already had a Juliet, then this flirtatious game they were playing would have to stop immediately. There was no way Keira would contribute to someone else experiencing the same pain she’d felt when she found out Zach cheated on her. Just the thought that she may have been flirting with a married man made her feel ashamed. And she certainly didn’t want there to be a Mrs. Cristiano who would think the same vitriolic thoughts about her that she saved for Julia!