“What a sweet thought, Sam,” Jane compliments him enthusiastically.
“Not at all. The truth is that I enjoy sharing my passions; you should know it better than anyone, Jane.”
The old woman smiles her wrinkly smile before she returns her gaze to me.
“Well, Sam, let me introduce Gillian Bennett, the last addition to our little family. She opened this delightful hat shop a few days ago now. She makes them all herself you know? They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Sam looks around, his gaze alighting on nearly every hat on display, then he focuses on me again.
“You really make them yourself?” he asks incredulously. I nod, still incapable of accepting the uncomfortable truth that has dawned on me upon seeing him. “Did you attend a course? How did you learn?” he asks curiously.
“I… By myself, watching tutorials and finding information on the internet,” I respond automatically.
“Truly amazing,” he comments, satisfied. “They’re small masterpieces.”
“Th… thank you,” I stammer uncertainly.
“Oh, she’s just shy, Sam. Gil is a modest girl, she isn’t used to compliments,” Jane comes to my aid, giving me a sideways look. It’s evident that, unlike Sam, she has perceived something odd about my present state of mind. “We should leave her to her work now, I’m sure she has lots of hats to make, don’t you, dear?” I nod again.
“It was a pleasure meeting you, Gillian. I’ll see you again soon,” Sam takes his leave with a smile.
“The pleasure was mine,” I reply hurriedly, before he can take my discombobulation for lack of good manners.
“Don’t tire yourself too much,” Jane warns me. “And keep yourself free on Sunday. I want to organize a nice lunch. It’s not often that you’re all here together, we have to celebrate,” she concludes happily.
“O… ok,” I answer before she disappears up the stairs leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I can’t believe it, Margherita was right, she was right all along. I’m no different from anyone else. How could I think I was capable of not letting prejudice condition me? I really am naïve.
It only takes a moment – a surge of adrenaline flows through my body and my mind reasons clearly for the first time in weeks. My confusion is gone and I know what I have to do. I leave the shop and rush up the stairs. I bump into Jane and Sam who are still on the second flight. I go past, careful not to trample them.
“Gil,” Jane calls me as I reach the second floor landing. “Where are you going in such a hurry?”
“I have to talk to Jared,” I reply without being able stop.
“About time, too!” I hear her comment a few steps behind me.
“Oh,” I remember retracing my steps enough to look over the banister and see her leaning against the handrail. “Thank you,” I tell her with a sincere smile. How I’ve missed smiling.
“Don’t mention it,” she chuckles, while I return to Jared’s door and frantically ring the bell. I have never been in such a hurry to see him. I wait precious seconds jumping up and down on the spot, incapable of standing still. I hear Sam’s heavy steps and the click of Jane’s heels progress up the stairs and grow impatient. I ring the bell again and finally the door opens.
“Gil,” his emerald eyes open wide as they travel up and down my body, unbelieving. I feel my heart stop, then it resumes beating at an accelerated pace a second later. Drowning in his gaze still has a strange effect on me.
Without thinking, I throw my arms around his neck and squeeze him tight. He seems taken aback, but he doesn’t push me away. He simply takes a step back into the apartment and closes the door behind us, wrapping his arms around my waist. We sit there clasping each other wordlessly for an uncountable amount of time. I missed his smell and the warmth of his body so much that now I have a hard time deciding to pull away. He lowers his head and breathes in the smell of my hair, then he raises a hand and begins stroking it, playing with a strand he twists in his fingers. I like how he touches my hair, it calms me. I let myself be cuddled until I feel his strong fingers slip under my chin and force me to raise my eyes to his.
“Did something happen?” he asks with a touch of apprehension in his warm voice.
“I realised that I love you,” I reply simply.
His expression becomes one of amazement; it seems he can’t believe his ears.
“Could you repeat that, please?” he asks as a breathtaking smile appears on his perfect face.
“I realised that I love you,” I immediately indulge him. His eyes light up and his smile broadens.
“It took you a while,” he teases me, amused.
“Never hurry a genius.”
“Does this mean you’ll go back to pestering me?”
“I never pestered you,” I insist, trying unsuccessfully to keep a straight face.
“This depends on the point of view,” he points out. “But if this can serve to comfort you, I missed being pestered by you like hell.”
“Oh… in that case…” I feign indifference.
“So you aren’t mad anymore?”
“Just a bit at myself for not having understood sooner,” I confide, embarrassed. How stupid I was to think I was immune from hasty judgments.
“Understood what?” he asks, serious again.
“Your reasons. I took for granted that I would have been able not to judge you, but now I realize I probably would have. I would have ruined everything and I would never have forgiven myself for it,” I try to explain, looking down. I can’t hold his gaze if I think I was the cause of our separation. Who knows if he missed me at least half as much as I missed him…
“The truth is that I was afraid, Gil. Afraid I wouldn’t measure up; and I let myself be guided by this, without thinking you were on the other side, but I promise it will never happen again. I can learn from my mistakes,” he reassures me, lifting my face again and looking at me with that intense gaze that makes me forget time passing.
“So you forgive me?” I ask hopefully.
“Only if you forgive me,” he replies with a smile. I stand on tiptoe and kiss him with joy as he holds me close. Here is the place I should have been the last few days.
“Well, then,” I begin as soon as our lips part, “if we’ve cleared everything up… I should be going.”
“If that’s a joke, it’s not funny,” he instantly scolds me, increasing his grip so as not to allow me even an inch of leeway.
“I’m sure you’ve got stuff to do, besides, I’ve got to open the shop in a little bit,” I try to make him see reason, though my tone isn’t as steadfast as I was hoping. Of course, I don’t feel like pulling away either.
“I’m sure no one will die if it stays closed this afternoon,” he insists persuasively, bringing his face so close to mine I can feel his breath on my skin.
“You want me to go bankrupt before a month has gone by since the opening,” I accuse him, amused.
“That is not true. I wish you all the best for your store, but I also need to attend to your emotional satisfaction – everyone knows that professional fulfilment isn’t enough to bring happiness,” he insists, intentionally lowering the tone of his voice so it resonates in my ears, eliciting a warm shiver up and down my body.
“Are you an expert in happiness?” I try to regain some control over myself; unsuccessfully I must admit, because my legs fail me and an insane desire for him overcomes me.
“I told you, I learn quickly from my mistakes,” he whispers against my lips. Ok, that’s too much even for someone like me. I bridge the negligible distance between our mouths and I resume kissing him, nibbling his lips, toying with his tongue, while my fingers frantically fumble with the buttons of his shirt. He laughs and lets me free him of this stupid piece of clothing (I suddenly find I prefer his worn T-shirts, definitely easier to take off), then he takes me in his arms and reaches his room. He sets me down on the sheets and stands near the edge of the bed for a moment. His gaze is fiery, his body perfect – even better
than I remembered. I kneel on the mattress, incapable of waiting for him to make up his mind and join me, and I throw my arms around his neck, pulling him down with me. Jared doesn’t resist; he lets himself be enveloped by my arms and resumes kissing me with fresh ardor. He lets me fall on my back and places himself on top of me, interrogating me with his gaze. I smile – I’ve never been more convinced of something than I am right now.
“You ended up convincing me, you know? Nothing’s going to happen if the store remains closed for one afternoon,” I declare, holding my hands out to him.
“Wise choice,” he smiles, finally beginning to kiss me again.
20
I suddenly open my eyes. The light seeping through the closed curtains already seems fairly intense. Oh, shoot, what time is it? I turn towards the bedside table and grab my cell phone to check the time. What?!?! Eleven thirty?!
“Jared!” I call the sleeping beauty by my side. “Jared, wake up, we’re running late.” From my tone it should be fairly obvious how anxious I am, but it has no effect on him, and instead of opening his eyes, he wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me back under the covers.
“Jared,” I insist, trying to break free from his powerful grip, but he doesn’t relent; in fact, he holds me even tighter against his chest until I can barely move.
“Jane will kill us if we’re late,” I’m forced to remind him, getting only an annoyed grumble out of him. “I will have to start going to bed in my apartment at night.”
“Don’t you dare,” he mutters into my hair.
“After all I pay the rent.”
“Sixty-seven dollars doesn’t count as rent,” he points out.
“Why? How much do you pay?”
“Sixty-seven dollars,” he replies with a laugh.
“Jane is really an odd type,” I reflect out loud, but that’s not the point right now. There’s something more important we have to think about: not annoying our landlady. “Let me go, Jared, we’ve slept enough, it’s eleven thirty,” I inform him in the attempt to convince him.
“I wouldn’t say so,” he replies, amused. I blush at the mere memory of the past night… and of the ones before – ever since I dared to confess I love him. Jared isn’t a man who makes do; he never gives himself half heartedly and he never wants less than everything. I love this; however, it’s not the only aspect of him I love. Sometimes I feel disoriented, I’ve never experienced such intense emotions and feelings; however, what never ceases to surprise me is that, despite my confusion, I am never afraid – never. With him I feel protected, desired, respected, and I know this will never change. How do I know? I have no idea, a sixth sense maybe. For sure Grandma Natalie unexpectedly agrees with me, so that’s settled.
“We still have to get ready. I have to take a shower, and we’re supposed to be there for lunch at noon. If we’re late they’re capable of coming to look for us even in the bedroom,” I protest, trying to escape his steel grip once again.
“Did you say shower?” he asks saucily, loosening his grip enough to be able to look me in the eye.
“Shower, yes,” I confirm without thinking, but regret it the moment his lips curve upwards, his eyes on fire. “Quick shower by myself,” I am forced to clarify.
“Weren’t you the one who was in a hurry?”
“You should be too.” I confess I don’t get the game he’s playing. If he agrees on the fact that we don’t have much time, why is he still looking at me like that?
“I am. We’ll save time if we shower together,” he concludes, suddenly animated by this possibility. He pushes away the sheets uncovering me, too, gets up and gathers me up in his arms, holding me against his naked chest.
“That’s not fair,” I mutter in mock irritation.
“It’s efficient,” he replies in amusement.
*
“Finally! For a terrifying minute I feared Jane would make me come and get you by force,” Ernest greets us in relief, opening the door of our landlady’s apartment.
“How melodramatic you are, Erny,” Jane scolds him from the couch where she is comfortably seated with Margherita, who is as splendid as the sun. Sam is sampling snacks from the comfort of the easy chair.
“What did I tell you? We’re late,” I turn to the gloating man by my side. There’s no way of making him feel guilty.
“They haven’t started yet, have they?” he observes calmly taking my hand and stepping into the apartment. Ernest closes the door behind us and immediately takes a seat near Margherita.
“Sorry, Jane, this morning we really couldn’t make it any sooner,” I hurriedly explain.
“Don’t worry, dear. You’re not late at all,” she reassures me with one of her wrinkly smiles.
“With all due respect, Jane, I remember you saying the exact words: ‘at twelve o’clock sharp,’ when you notified me of my invitation,” Ernest retorts. I suspect he made a huge effort to be on time, despite his low opinion of punctuality.
“With equal respect, Erny, I was forced to be so specific only with you,” Jane replies calmly. “It is not necessary to exhort normal people to be punctual.”
“I never wished to be a normal person.”
“That’s probably why you force me to resort to uncommon measures,” Jane makes fun of him while Margherita barely manages to stifle a laugh. “In any case, that’s enough. Come and have a seat, kids, there are still ten minutes before lunch,” our landlady cordially invites us, gesturing to the empty chairs around a coffee table decked in different kinds of tempting canapés.
“Thank you, Jane,” Jared gratefully accepts.
“I see the two of you are happy, am I right?” Jane’s careful eyes linger on me and then on the man sitting by my side. I can’t help but blush; I don’t much like being the center of attention, but it seems she won’t let it lie until she gets a satisfying answer.
“Absolutely, Jane,” Jared precedes me with a breathtaking smile that lights up his face.
“What did I tell you? They’re perfect together.”
“You have an eye for these things,” Margherita agrees.
“I’m afraid I’m not following,” Sam breaks in, covering his full mouth with his hand.
“Because they are just foolish pleasantries, Sam,” Ernest retorts with his habitual charm.
“Pleasantries are the foundation of good conversation,” Jane insists.
“You forgot to remind me to brush up on mine, Jane.”
“Don’t be foolish. You’re British, Erny, fake it.” A barely noticeable smile lingers on Ernest’s lips. He’s the only one who can stand his ground with Jane, and he seems to enjoy it a lot. He fixes his glasses on his nose and takes a cucumber canapé from the tray.
“Well, the two of you are both of British descent,” Sam observes, seemingly oblivious to recent developments.
“I could ask for nothing better than the comradery of a fellow Englishman,” Jane declares with satisfaction as she gets up from the couch.
“Also known as the man most capable of putting up with her,” Ernest adds, nibbling his canapé.
“The appreciation is mutual,” she concludes, heading for the kitchen. “Come on, it’s time to sit down for lunch. And Sam has a lot to tell us about his last trip, don’t you, dear?”
“Of course I do, and I think I discovered a new species of Lepidoptera in the Foja Mountains,” he begins to explain enthusiastically, rising from his easy chair with a sandwich in hand. I get the feeling he’s a good eater.
Jared and I stand. He takes my hand and gives me a happy smile. I feel at home. I love this carefree and festive atmosphere, this jovial climate and the people that make it so. I get the impression I have found my personal heaven, with my bicycle returned to the entrance hall as if by magic, the joyful bantering, the perfect man by my side, and my hat shop on the ground floor. I squeeze Jared’s hand and together we join the others for our first family meal.
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Acknowledgments
We have come once again to the end.
And once again I would like to thank the people who have been by my side and encouraged me to carry on and do better – I hope I met your expectations.
Thanks to my family – mom, dad, and my superlative sister – thank you for the patience with which you put up with me every day and your ability to make a dream I thought was only mine become yours.
Thanks to my beta-readers: Bia, Debby, and Linda. They are the ones who approve what comes out of my head and my computer before anyone else; they are the ones who read every line, making me a gift of their precious time; and it is they who, having had a preview of In Spite of Fate, asked me: “What about Lillian?”. So you should thank them if soon you will be able to find out how things turned out for Lillian and Zach ;)
Thanks to all the blogs who supported and appreciated me, especially Libri di cristallo, Un buon libro non finisce mai, Le tazzine di Yoko, Un libro per amico, Silenzio sto leggendo, Toglietemi tutto ma non i miei libri, Le lettrici impertinenti, Tratto rosa, Il bello di essere letti, Libri libretti libracci, and Il libro sulla finestra, for having seconded the folly of a scribbler like me. I thank you with all my heart, girls!
Thanks to my publisher, Newton Compton, for giving a new guise, which I adore, to this second volume, and for giving me the chance to present you with this story. And thanks to Clara who worked with me on the editing of this novel.
And, last but not least, thanks to you who are reading these lines. Thank you for choosing me once again, for having grown fond (I hope) of this story, and for contributing every day to the fulfilment of my little big dream.
What a Girl Wants Page 24
