“You staying for Christmas, American Lady?” Angelo asked.
“No. I’m just here for a couple of days.”
“Too short,” Fabio said. “How can you come to Rome and stay so short? Okay, you come with us tonight and we go to Piazza Navona, in how do you say? In memory of three wise men coming to Bethlehem. Very nice. You will like. Then I take you to Vendita libri cioccolata e Vino. You will like. Every tourist like. A small place, good place. They give you shots in chocolate you can eat. You get a shot cocktail in a chocolate cup, with cream on top. Believe me, you will like that. Believe me when I say that.”
Dina had to admit that a chocolate shot sounded fun. What had Paul said? He wasn’t sure what time he’d get to Rome?
Dina began focusing on the city as they drove past monuments and fountains and piazzas. Her eyes widened in a childish wonder as she saw the ancient, the medieval, the renaissance and the modern.
The Fiat skidded up to the entranceway of the Hotel Grand Palace and stopped abruptly, rocking Dina forward, her hand braced against the dashboard.
“Here we are!” Fabio announced with a shout.
A red and yellow double decker tour bus drove by with the name Sightseeing Roma written on it. Fabio scowled at it.
“My tour much better,” he said. “That one a bullshit tour bus.”
Before Dina could say anything, Fabio boiled out of the car to the trunk, just as the middle-aged porter emerged from the hotel and hurried to the car. Fabio gave him the once-over as he handed the man the heavy suitcase. The porter narrowed his wary eyes on Fabio as he took it. Angelo bounded out of the car and held the door open for Dina, ignoring the porter, who waited with a skeptical eye.
The stocky porter smiled at Dina, respectfully. “Welcome to Hotel Grand Palace.”
He waited patiently as Dina paid Fabio, leaving him a generous tip.
Elated, Fabio turned in a circle, his face filled with gratitude. He grabbed Dina’s hand and kissed it. “You great lady. You must take my tour. Must. You must taste Mamma Luisa’s food. That’s-a bigga must.”
The porter cleared his throat. Dina thanked Fabio again and followed the porter as he ushered her up some stairs, through the glass doors and into the lovely art deco lobby, with marble floors, chandeliers made of crystal, and stunning frescoes. A tall, elegant Christmas tree glowed with white lights and red ornaments, and a regal, glorious angel.
At the lobby desk, a smiling female clerk nodded a welcome and offered warm Christmas wishes, with a charming Italian accent. Angelo had followed Dina inside, and waited patiently for her as she registered.
The pretty hotel clerk smiled at Dina, and then lowered her eyes on Angelo. “Is he with you?” she asked, doubtfully.
Angelo jutted his chin out proudly. “Yeah, she with me.”
Dina looked at Angelo, affectionately. He flicked a business card from his coat pocket and offered it to her. She accepted it with a thank you.
“My brother, Fabio, best tour guide. You call.”
Angelo pivoted on his heels and hurried off to Fabio, who waved to Dina from the entrance. She waved back.
Dina’s suite was gleaming and spacious, with a king-sized bed, spectacular bathroom and walk-in shower. Her spacious private balcony presented a panoramic view of the area and, as in Paris, she felt entranced and also oddly out of sync, as if she weren’t quite anchored in her body.
She reached for her phone to text Patti the latest news, and she saw she’d received a text from her. It was a long one. Excited, she tapped it.
Am I jealous? Oh yeah! You met some mysterious, hot guy in Paris? How cool is that? He’s joining you in Rome? Wow! What’s his story? He must be rich. Does he have a brother? Lol. Crazy busy here. Miss you, Dina. Charlie is a real jerk—yelling at the new girl who replaced you, and yelling at me too. Poor girl doesn’t have a clue. She walks about in a trance. Your guests are asking about you. When I told them you were in Paris, they didn’t believe me. I showed them your pics and they went crazy happy. How fun was that? Hey, maybe this guy will want you to marry him and you’ll never have to come back to this wacky place. I saw a good-looking guy sitting by himself the other night. I flirted like a slut, but nothing happened.
Dina glanced up from the phone, shut her eyes and went into thought. She eased down on the bed, as the sliver of an urgent memory swam to the surface of her mind. She tried to catch it, but it wriggled away out of sight.
CHAPTER 12
“I called them on impulse,” Dina said. “It might be a mistake, but then again, I thought it might be different and fun. Fabio, the older brother, is a little wild, but he’s harmless.”
Dina and Paul stood in the Hotel Grand Palace hotel lobby under the sparkling chandelier. Paul had arrived only minutes before, at 6:20pm.
Paul had listened, with reservations, as Dina summarized her encounter with Angelo and Fabio at the airport.
“Did anyone from the car service call and explain why the car wasn’t there to meet you?” Paul asked, with irritation. “That shouldn’t have happened, Dina.”
Dina thought Paul was overly upset, but she appreciated his concern.
“Yes, the company called and apologized about an hour later. They said the driver had gotten into a kind of fender bender, and that’s why he was late, and I believed them, especially after the taxi ride from the airport. The way these people drive, I thought I was going to die. Anyway, they offered me a free voucher.”
“That’s the least they should have done.”
“It’s okay, Paul, really. Fabio and Angelo were a lot of fun. I didn’t realize his mother and older brother owned a restaurant until they gave me their business card. I looked it up, and it’s highly rated. Anyway, I thought it would be fun to check it out.”
Paul met her eyes. “You took a risk riding with them.”
“I guess so, but they seemed, I don’t know, fun and different. Fabio drives a yellow Fiat, and it’s pretty small, so I hope you can fit.”
Paul shrugged. “Well, I suppose, when in Rome, do as the Romans do.” He glanced at his watch. “You said Fabio will be here at 6:30?”
“Yes, and did I say he’s a crazy driver?”
“Like you said, most Italians are crazy drivers. It’s probably all the espresso they drink.”
Dina laughed, and he smiled at her laugh. Their eyes met, and they held their smiles, as the moment grew with intimacy and desire.
Paul felt the sudden urge to reach for her, to touch her cheek, her hair, to bring his lips to hers. What was her magic that drew him, even though he’d vowed to leave her at least four times?
In Paris, as he was leaving for the airport to fly to Rome, he’d started a text to her, saying something had come up and he’d have to fly home to New York. He was going to say, maybe we’ll see each other again someday. But he’d deleted the text. Instead, he had resolutely climbed aboard the Gulfstream G-4 and flown to Rome, anxious and excited to see her again, like a high school kid meeting the star cheerleader.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Dina asked. “You seemed so far away. You often seem far away.”
“Do I? I’m sorry…I guess I’ve gotten used to being alone, and lost in my own thoughts.”
“Do you like being alone?”
She was giving off an entrancing French perfume and he felt his pulse rise—and he felt exalted. He studied her rosy, glistening lips, the lovely French hairstyle, all twists and curls that added a sexy eloquence, and he took in the black sheath dress with long lacy sleeves that had whispered about her as she’d left the elevator and walked toward him. She looked stunning in it.
“Not right now I don’t feel like being alone.”
Dina knew she attracted him and, for the first time in a long time, she felt confident and sexy. Paul made her feel sexy and desired. He made her all dreamy and eager, and longing to touch him and excite him. Paul was a mystery she wanted to unwrap, like a Christmas present. She wanted to unwrap him inside, and she wanted to unwrap
him outside.
She thought he was about to move in for a kiss when Fabio burst through the entranceway, found them and started over, arms extended wide, his face open with exaggerated pleasure.
“Here you are,” he said, drawing up to Dina and looking her up and down, captivated by her dress and hair. He took her hand and kissed it. “Bella siccome un angelo.”
He turned with mock apology to Paul. “You don’t mind, my friend. This American girl and I are old friends, and she is so beautiful.”
His hand jutted out to shake Paul’s. “Buonasera, signore. Come stai?”
He pumped Paul’s hand with enthusiasm. “I am Fabio. Best tour guide in Rome. My Mamma Luisa and my brother Tony, has the best ristorante in Rome.”
Paul lifted an eyebrow. Fabio was bright-eyed and wired. “I’m Paul, and right now I’m the best tourist in Rome.”
Fabio pulled back with a laugh, pointing a finger at Paul, impressed. “Good one, Paul. Yeah, I like Americans. You American, right?”
“Right.”
“Where’s Angelo?” Dina asked.
“In the kitchen, chopping. You will see him. Okay. Good. We go then to Malatesta Ristorante and you have the best dinner you ever have.”
The restaurant was about two and half miles from the Colosseum, and as Fabio sped past the famous amphitheater, it seemed to shimmer in golden light, timelessly romantic under a near full moon.
“I give the best tours to the Colosseum,” Fabio exclaimed. “No problem. I show you everything. I give you good price.”
The tight space in the back seat had Dina and Paul touching thighs and shoulders. Dina loved the intimacy, feeling heat and erotic pleasure.
“You good back there,” Fabio asked, peering through his rearview mirror.
Paul looked at Dina. “Are you good?”
She laughed a little, from nerves, and from being turned on. “Perfect.”
“Perfecto, Fabio,” Paul said.
Malatesta Ristorante sat on a narrow side street, off the main roads. It was small, cozy and rustic, with square table tops and ladder back chairs with cane seats. At 7:10, it was already full, but Fabio had reserved a private table for two, and he personally sat Dina and Paul, finishing with a deep bow. Immediately, Angelo appeared, wearing a white apron, carrying bread and a cheese platter. He kissed Dina on both cheeks, shook Paul’s hand and hurried back into the kitchen.
“I recommend you a good Italian wine,” Fabio said, hands folded before him.
“I’ll leave it to you, Fabio.”
“Good, Paul. I see you are not cheap, and that is so good. Do not be cheap in Rome. Rome is here for the pleasure, and not for the cheap. As soon as I see this pretty American girl here at the airport...”
Dina interrupted. “…My name is Dina, Fabio.”
Fabio lifted his eyebrows. “Dina! Good. It sounds Italiano. Like Dino. Good. So, when I see Dina at the airport I say to Angelo, she not be cheap. She out for fun and she don’t care about the money. Am I right, Dina? You not cheap, right? You leave Fabio such a good tip.”
Dina lowered her head, her grin stretching into a smile. “I try not to be cheap, Fabio. I work as a waitress in Colorado.”
“A waitress? You? No. I don’t believe. You like magazine girl. Princess maybe.”
“Thank you, Fabio.”
A stout woman in a white apron, with a round, friendly face and her gray hair pulled back in a bun, stepped over. She gave Fabio a frown and a flick of her hand.
“You gonna talk them to death, Fabio? Go. Let them be. Let them eat. Già abbastanza!”
Fabio nodded, meekly, and left to get a bottle of wine.
As she turned, smiling at Dina and Paul, Paul stood.
“I’m Mamma Luisa,” she said in a heavy Italian accent. “I don’t speak English so good, but I welcome you. Fabio said you’re good. That’s good. I make the food. It’s good. I hope you like.”
Dina and Paul offered their gratitude, and Mamma Luisa told Paul to sit and she’d send Angelo with their dinner.
After she’d left, Paul seemed more relaxed than Dina had ever seen him before. She noticed that the tension had left his jaw and face. He glanced about, taking in the surroundings.
“I like this place,” Paul said. “It is definitely authentic.”
“I told you Fabio was a character right out of an Italian movie.”
“Yes, he is colorful.”
Dina took some bread and dipped it in olive oil. She dropped it into her mouth and watched Paul do the same, while she looked the place over, seeing mostly locals. There was a sense of great vitality and enjoyment in the place and the people. It was contagious.
“Did I tell you I was a waitress?” Dina asked.
Paul avoided her eyes.
“No, I don’t think so. You said you were from Colorado.”
“You must wonder how a waitress from Pine Village, Colorado can afford this kind of vacation.”
Paul continued to evade her gaze. “There are many possible explanations, I suppose.”
Dina decided to play with him, for fun. “How about listing a few.”
Paul took his napkin and blotted his mouth. “Okay…well, let’s see now. This is a vacation you always wanted to take, so you saved for it, and here you are.”
“Not bad. Give me another.”
Paul shifted in his seat, glancing about, wishing Fabio would return with the wine to stop the conversation. Dina cut a piece of cheese and spread it on her bread. It had a pungent smell.
Paul continued. “Okay…Someone in your family—an aunt or uncle or grandparent—passed away and left you some money.”
“That’s very good,” Dina said. “Yes, I like that one.” She leaned forward. “You’ll never guess, in a hundred years, how it all happened, but keep trying anyway. Try one more.”
Paul scratched his cheek. “You won the lottery?”
“No way. That’s an obvious guess. No, it’s much more mysterious than that. Try again. That one doesn’t count.”
Fabio appeared with the bottle of wine and Paul relaxed his shoulders, but stopped himself from heaving out a sigh of relief.
“Here’s the wine and glasses,” Fabio said, placing the glasses before them, then presenting the wine. “It is so good. Really good wine. You are going to love it. It is a 2009 Barbaresco, made with the Nebbiolo grape. It is produced in the Piedmonte region. You know where that is, Paul?”
“Yes. I’ve been there.”
Fabio looked at Dina as he trimmed the bottle cap with the knife on his wine key. “Have you been to Piedmonte, Dina?”
“No, Fabio. This is the first time I’ve been to Europe.”
Fabio shook his head. “So sad. Okay, Paul, you must take Bella Dina to Piedmonte. Dina, it is bordering France and Switzerland, at the very bottom of, how you say? Of the Alps. You’ll love it there. Paul, you must take Dina. Please.”
Dina glanced at Paul, who nodded. “Why not?”
Fabio extracted the cork and poured a taste for first Dina, and then Paul. Paul swirled the light red wine in his long stem glass, while Dina simply tasted it.
She brightened. “I like it. I like it a lot. It’s so light and filled with life.”
“Yes, good, Dina. Filled with life is right. It’s a good wine. So good,” Fabio said, pouring her a glass. Paul nodded his approval and Fabio filled his glass as well.
After Fabio retreated, Paul quickly steered the conversation to Dina and her plans for the following day. She said she planned to take a tour with Fabio.
When she told Paul this, she was sure she saw jealousy flare in his eyes. It pleased her. She could feel herself falling for him, falling head over-heels-for him. The only obstacle she could see was his mystery and evasion. She knew he was holding something back and she prayed it wasn’t as before, that he was married and leading her on. One way or the other, she’d have to confront him about it or the relationship wouldn’t last.
Angelo brought spicy duck ragu with pasta, tagl
iatelle with mushrooms, and tuna steak with algae and grilled onions. The couple ate voraciously, and when Mamma Luisa returned to their table, they both gushed about how fantastic the food was. She lit up with joy and a clasp of hands when Paul told her it was the best food he had ever tasted in Rome.
For dessert, they had the homemade tiramisu, again the best that either had ever tasted. After espresso and some dessert wine, Dina and Paul thanked Mamma Luisa, Angelo and Tony. Paul left a generous tip, vowing to return the next time he was in Rome.
On the jerky ride back to the hotel, Dina nearly fell asleep. Paul was quiet too. Even Fabio said little, although he glanced into the rearview mirror several times to observe the couple. He’d seen the two of them in the restaurant staring at each other in an intimate way—in a lover’s way.
Fabio had observed many people in his line of work. He saw married people who didn’t like each other; he saw single women looking for a quick, fantasy romance; he saw men pawing at Italian women; he saw the desperate eyes of the lonely, searching Rome for the brochures’ promise of fulfillment and happiness.
Dina and Paul fell into the true lovers category. Fabio had watched them, closely. There is a particular gaze that lovers have—a secret language of the heart. Dina had been tentative at first. Paul, cautious and rigid. As the wine worked its magic, and the food warmed, and the pleasing atmosphere of the restaurant charmed, Fabio witnessed a change in Paul. He relaxed and smiled, and Fabio had noticed that Paul was not a man with an easy smile. That too had been transformed over the course of the dinner and, by dessert, Paul was leaning toward Dina, and she toward him, attraction gleaming in their eyes.
Fabio smiled with self-congratulations. Of course, he acknowledged that this change and easy allure they were feeling was the result of the ancient enchantment of Rome. He’d seen it before—not frequently, because true love is rare—but when two people were ready, they had always, predictably, fallen under the spell of romantic Rome, and their love had blossomed.
At the Grand Hotel Palace, Fabio waited in the car while Paul walked Dina into the hotel lobby. Fabio leaned back and shut his eyes. It had been a long day.
The Date Before Christmas: A Novel Page 12
