by Rachel Renee
Her olive skin blushes at my compliment. “Grazie,” she mumbles but immediately recovers. “We may communicate in English if you prefer. I know your father only speaks it, but he told me that you were raised in Florence so I thought maybe you’d rather speak in our native language.”
“Either way.”
She smiles and starts moving back. “It was so nice to finally meet you,” she repeats her statement from before but in English this time. “I will see you around?”
It was a question and not a statement. “Absolutely,” I answer with a grin of my own. Sophia almost trips over a divot in the floor as she waves goodbye to me. I pretend I don’t notice and head straight for the entrance to my apartment.
The moment I walk through the door at the top floor, the smells of parmesan and oregano assault my nose. “Niccolo? Is that you?” I hear from the kitchen.
“Yeah.”
I drop my bag by the door after latching both locks. After that first day, Charlie would allow anyone to come in, but me on the other hand, I want to be prepared if someone walks through that door.
“Santi finally talked to me today,” I tell the man standing in suit pants and a white apron splattered in red pasta sauce. The whole kitchen is a disaster. There is pasta laying all over the counters, and the small pot on the stove is bubbling over with sauce, squirting it on the granite with every pop of a bubble. “You should really turn the heat down on that.”
“What’d he say?” Charlie responds to my first comment but doesn’t make a move to turn down the burner.
I give him an abbreviated version of our short conversation, leaving out specifics, while I move to the stove and turn down the pasta sauce. “Do you know what you’re doing?” I ask in the middle of the previous conversation.
“Of course I do, it’s just spaghetti.”
I wave my hand around the kitchen. “And homemade pasta?”
“That’s the only way to do it.”
“They don’t sell noodles at the store?”
“They might.” His shoulders raise. “I just thought this would be more authentic.”
“You are definitely creating the whole experience. What’s the occasion?”
“I invited Sophia for dinner.” His left brow raises. “Wanted you to meet her.”
“I just did.”
“Gorgeous, right?”
“She is.”
“Thought maybe you could use some female company while you’re here.”
I kind of thought that’s where he might be going. I was hoping he wasn’t trying to hit on the woman who appears to be even younger than I am. “I can’t date.”
“Why not? And who says you have to date?”
“I don’t sleep around, if that’s what you are referring to.”
“Oh, come on. What man says a thing like that?”
I jut my finger back and forth toward my face. “This one does. That’s not how I roll. I want a relationship first, not a one-night stand. Women mean more to me than that.”
“Oh God.” Charlie throws his head back. “What kind of person did they stick me with? A pansy, woman lover.”
I’m not going to apologize for who I am. My parents may not be together but my real father always told me that women were a gift and I shouldn’t taint them by using them and quickly disposing of them.
I see a smile on Charlie’s lips when he finally looks back in my direction. “If you aren’t going to hit that, maybe I’ll try my luck.”
I don’t know Sophia, but the thought of Charlie doing anything with her brings on a sudden wave of nausea. “Don’t do that to her. She seems sweet and genuine. Don’t taint that with your wicked ways.”
His smile doesn’t fade. “So, you think you might eventually hit that.” This is a whole new side of Charlie and I’m starting to realize he might be a little piggish. “Either way, she’s another operative, so she has a role in this mission as well.”
“Are you sure? She didn’t mention it when we met.” In my short time here, there have been so many new discoveries. Not that I wasn’t planning for some surprises. I can’t believe this is yet another thing that was left out from my file. Another person I’m supposed to be working with on this mission that I had no clue about before now.
“I’m sure. We’ve gotten acquainted”—I grimace—“not how you’re thinking.” His mouth turns down.
“So, what’s her role?”
“Guess you’re just going to have to play the game to find out.”
“The moon seems so much bigger up here.” Sophia and I wandered up to the terrace after dinner. Charlie told us what our part to play is to be, so we figured we should spend a little time getting acquainted.
“My very first mission took me to a place where the moon seemed so small. There were so many lights that there were no stars in the sky. I mean”—she smiles at me—“I couldn’t see them.”
“Where were you? Vegas?” I can picture all the lights in that city and imagine she was in some place like that.
Her eyes light up but she shrugs as an answer before continuing her story. “After a couple of years, I went to a place that seemed as though it were not of this planet. The moon was huge, seemed even bigger than this. And the stars, there were so many stars in the sky that some nights I felt as if I was among them.”
A desert somewhere. That would be my guess. She didn’t answer the first time so I’m going to try another tactic. “What mission is this for you?” Possibly her third, since she’s mentioned two.
“It took me three more years to get back to Italy. Each year I was in a different location. I’ve been here for a little over a year.”
I’m staring out into the night, trying to calculate all the possibilities when she answers.
“Six, this is six for me.”
She doesn’t look at me but stares over the now quiet city. “Wow,” I answer. “I never imagined you had been at this as long.”
Sophia reaches out with her hand and pats mine. “I’m older than you think. I’ve got at least seven years on you.”
Instinctively, I turn in her direction. My eyes try to adjust to the lighting in this direction. I stared at her face all through dinner and pictured her maybe a year or two older, at most. Thirties? My eyes squint. I don’t see it.
Sophia and I finish off the glasses of wine we brought up with us as we talk a little more about Italy and she tells me in more detail about our area, specifically. She doesn’t seem to like to talk about personal items, as she skirts by every other time I’ve brought one up.
As the moon sits high in the sky, I grab the now empty glass from Sophia’s outstretched hand. “I’m looking forward to working with you on this mission.”
I can barely see the slight upturn of her lips before she answers. “I’m looking forward to it as well.”
And, that was that. She goes one way, down to her apartment, and I go the other to mine. My mind drifts to all the things I learned about her during our conversation this evening. She’s beautiful, and kind, or at least she seems to be. Definitely knowledgeable. This isn’t her first mission, so she has some experience under her belt. Personal stuff seems to stay personal, so she’s good at the parts she plays. Or maybe, she just doesn’t trust me enough to let me in on any of that information, just yet.
My last thoughts are of Sophia as I close my eyes. I’m excited to be working with her. She brings a different dynamic to this group of men.
6
I was surprised to see Santi at our table this morning. I’m not really sure what to do about it as there are plenty of open tables and I can’t use that excuse. I order my coffee and croissant and while I wait, pretend to be surveying the tables. Rubio is sitting in the spot I normally call mine, and I’m hoping he’ll look up from the small screen that he is enamored with, but he does no such thing.
There’s a table that is diagonal to him that opens up as I’m waiting and I claim it as mine. I quickly grab up my goodies and head in the direction before so
meone else can declare the space. Santi peers up as I walk past his table and a small grin appears on his lips before I get to my spot. I set my items on the table and get myself situated to play my part. I’m extremely surprised when Rubio stands and walks in my direction. Ignoring him only works for a second because he plops down in the chair across from me.
“What? I was in your spot?”
I try to look disgusted but I’m excited about the interaction. “You were, but unlike you, I’m flexible.”
His look turns smug. “I can be flexible. See, now I’m sitting at this table with you.”
“Why would you do that? Your table is open and free.”
There’s a look in his eyes that I can’t explain. “I’ve gotten used to your annoying habits and find them comforting when I’m enjoying my coffee.”
I feel like he’s hitting on me. I comfort him? What annoying habits? “Care to expand?”
“The way you slurp your coffee and clang the cup down on the saucer once you’ve finished reminds me of having breakfast with my father.” He shrugs.
“So, I remind you of your dad?”
“No, just those annoying habits.”
My head nods and his grin from before appears. I don’t want to seem too eager so I pull out a book and open it before I say another word. “I’ve never seen you in here with your father. Does he live close?”
“Somewhat. He’s busy. I might see him next week. Depends on his schedule.”
“Does he meet you here or do you go home?”
“Home,” he huffs. “He might meet me here or I go to one of the caffés closer to him.”
“He lives outside of Rome?” I know where he lives but I want to keep the conversation going and I want him to think I’m interested.
“Not far, but outside the city center.”
“Nice that you two are so close. What about your mom?”
He shrugs once more. “Not around.”
The file didn’t mention that so I make a mental note to delve into that little detail. I’m liking the fact that Santi is talking this morning—that he made contact instead of me forcing the subject. I’m feeling pretty good about myself until he starts asking more questions.
“What’s your name and why are you here in Rome?”
The words feel like more of an accusation than a question. I look Santi straight in the eye and answer. “Niccolo Esposito. And since you asked ever so nicely, I will tell you. I’m staying with my father for the summer vacation. We have been estranged and are trying to build a relationship.”
This could go many different directions and I’m not surprised in the direction it takes. “Why were you estranged? He did something to upset you?”
“Quite the contrary. He didn’t know anything about me.” I tell Santi the made-up fable of Charlie and me. He moves in closer as I continue to talk, his glare never leaving mine.
“How did you become so skilled in English? Your accent is quite good. Did you live there at any point with your mother?”
Shit. Not as good as I thought I was. “No, just well-practiced. My mother spoke it constantly, I mean, more than Italian, so it just became second nature.”
“But your accent? It is very American. Did you know that?”
“My father said the same thing when he met me. I don’t know how that came to be.”
“Parliamo in italiano.”
Now he wants to test my Italian some more. This performance needs to be spotless. I sit back in my chair and take a couple sips of my coffee, trying hard not to slurp. After drinking some of the warm liquid, I take a deep breath and proceed to have a conversation with Santi in complete Italian, hopefully with an impeccable Florence accent.
“I’m extremely impressed with your ability to switch back and forth so easily. What about me?”
“What about you?”
“Do I transition well between the languages?”
Oh, he wants some recognition for his ability to speak multiple dialects. “Yes, very well indeed.”
His smile is big as he enjoys a compliment to stroke his already large ego. “I have spoken both my whole life too. My father is American.”
My eyes widen. I can’t believe he told his son. Everyone assumed that Paolo Rubio played the perfect Italian while he has been living here and also assumed he would keep his American identity secret.
“You seem surprised.”
I think quick. “Just interested in the fact that we both have American fathers but have grown up in Italy.”
“I spent some time in America when I was younger.”
Another new discovery. “What was it like?”
“It was fine. I was young. Padre had to go back for work and mother was still with us then, so she and I spent some time exploring the States.”
“Anywhere in particular?”
“We lived in New York, New York, Atlanta, Georgia, and San Francisco, California. I remember San Francisco the best, but we were only there a couple of months.”
We could have crossed paths during our childhood. I push that aside for a moment and ask, “Why did you move so much?”
“Work.”
I want to ask what type of work, but maybe I’ll wait for another day. I nod in understanding and then ask, “What’s your name? I gave you mine.”
The young man’s mouth spreads wide. “Santi. Santi Rubio.” He sticks out his right hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Niccolo.”
I reach mine out and firmly give his a shake. “Yes. After weeks of annoying each other.” I grin.
“Maybe now when we see each other it will not be so weird.”
“I would like that,” I tell him. “I do not have many friends in this area.”
“Friend,” I hear Santi say under his breath.
Maybe he doesn’t have many of those either. The ladies fawn over him but he’s always alone when he comes in here. I never see him talking to anyone other than the owner, Marco.
“Do you work, Santi?” I want to change the subject a bit.
“No. My father will pay for my school and he says that he wants me to enjoy the summer holiday before I start.”
“So, what do you do besides come here?”
Rubio sneers. “Just because we know each other’s names, doesn’t mean I will tell you all my secrets now.”
Trying to laugh it off, I say, “Didn’t want to know your secrets, just wanted to know what you do for fun.”
His chin tilts so that he is looking me straight in the eye. I think he’s trying to read me. “I wander. I date. I party,” he finally answers.
I pry a little more. “Wander where? What should I see while I’m in the city?”
“All the usuals. The Colosseum, St. Peter’s, The Forum, The Fountain.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of things that I don’t already know about.”
His sneer turns into a smirk before he answers. “I may be able to recommend some places, but I don’t trust you enough to share them yet.”
I shrug. “I can understand that.” Now, what do I need to do to earn his trust? I guess we continue playing this cat and mouse game until I’m officially in his circle.
7
After leaving the caffé, Charlie is waiting for me at the apartment and tells me we have somewhere we need to go. “Anywhere specific?”
“You’ll see when we get there. Sophia is coming along, so make yourself presentable.”
I do as Charlie suggests and change into a button-down shirt and dress shoes. I’m not sure where we’re going, but Charlie was wearing something similar so I assume I will be presentable. I go in the bathroom and spray a touch of cologne on my neck before going back out into the living space.
The smell of lavender invades my nose as I move toward the kitchen, and the sweet voice of Sophia talking amicably with Charlie enters my ears. The two stop and look at me with happiness-filled eyes when I approach. Sophia moves quickly in my direction, kissing me on either side of my mouth, her natural greeti
ng to anyone she meets. “Ciao, Niccolo.”
My mouth spreads out. “Ciao, bella.” Her eyes sparkle at my salutation. What can I say? She is beautiful, after all.
As Sophia and I stare each other down, Charlie coughs in the background. “Are you two lovebirds ready?”
I feel my eyes lower and my jaw clench. It’s just a part, Liam, play it well.
Since Charlie indicated that Sophia and I should be dating, as part of this mission, he invites her to dinner and brings her along on all our mission objectives that we can complete together. He insists that it’s all for the greater good of the team. Sophia also embraces the idea. She can be very clingy and plays her part well. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say we were a couple. But I do know better, and we’re both just playing a part. I have to admit, there are worse parts to this mission than a beautiful blonde hanging off my arm. I treat her with respect and care despite the fact we aren’t actually a real couple.
“Let’s get to it,” I say, still staring into the crystal blues of the woman who’s gazing up into mine.
Without hesitation or prompting, Sophia reaches out and places her hand in the crook of my elbow. We descend the stairs side by side, which is somewhat a feat with the unevenness of the concrete and our disproportionate gaits, but I slow and we make it to the bottom without mishap. Charlie walks directly behind us and we continue this triad out into the warm afternoon sunshine.
“Which way?” I call out.
Sophia smiles, knowing the answer before Charlie speaks it. “The Colosseum,” the two say in unison.
Glad everyone but me is in the know. I look down to Sophia, hoping she will be more direct than Charlie. “Just for a visit or for a reason?”
“For a reason.”
“What are you two whispering about up there?” Charlie catches up to the two of us and walks directly beside me.
“Niccolo was asking why.”
“Did you enlighten him?”
“Not yet,” Sophia falters.
