by Karen Gordon
Mikel downshifts to take a fast corner before answering. “Yes, we do, but we are going to Anna’s family house near the lake. It’s still too cold to swim but the house is big and we will be more comfortable there.”
I alternate watching the map and staring out the window as suburbia turns to countryside, but Mikel keeps catching my attention. His car is a stick shift, like my Dad and Danny’s Goat and so rare in America. He deftly coordinates his hand and feet using the engine to control our speed. I’m jealous. It’s been too long since I felt the power of commanding a fast engine.
When it’s clear that he knows what he’s doing I allow myself to relax and enjoy the ride. The map shows us getting closer to a town called Como on the edge of a lake. I play the name over in my head wondering where I have heard of it. I finally remember, “George Clooney.”
Mikel glances at me sideways, not sure why I announced the name.
“George Clooney has a house in Como.”
Mikel nods as if that information is not a big deal then tells me, “Annalize has a house in Como, much more important.”
I smile at that because I’m sure that’s true for both him and Annalize but I also get the feeling she is a really big star in Italy.
Although we are flying along small mountain roads at a breakneck speed I feel more relaxed than I have days…no, weeks…months? Mikel is not only a competent driver but also a generally pleasant man to be around. He seems to notice and appreciate simple pleasures: driving a nice car, the scenery, good music on the radio. He is starting to rub some of my American angst away already.
My desire to see someplace authentically Italian is granted when we pass into the walled city of Como. The town square is picturesque and adorable. People are sitting in outdoor cafes mingling. People of all ages are walking or riding bikes. We park and a group of men stop and talk to Mikel before he can come around to open my door. As he does he explains, “I told Anna we would get some things at the shop before we go to the house.”
I get out and find myself facing the lake and I’m awestruck. It’s a deep blue ribbon with majestic Alps framing it in the distance. No wonder Mikel is such a happy camper. I might be too if I lived here.
In the store it’s a mixture of classic Italian foods and common grocery staples. I recognize a few American names, some far from gourmet, and I wonder why they take the time to import some of our crap foods. The cookie aisle has a few packages of Italian cookies next to bright blue packages of Oreos. I hold one up to show Mikel. “You like these?”
He laughs. “No, but Anna does. We can get some if you want but she will eat the whole package.”
I put it back. There are so many more things I want to eat while I’m here and it’s also so unfair that she can consume a whole package of Oreo cookies and look like she does. I don’t want to watch a demonstration of the power of her Italian genes.
When we reach the house she rushes out to greet us. “Vivienne.” I love hearing my name almost sung in her beautiful voice. “I’m so happy you are here.”
She hugs me hard and kisses both cheeks and I reciprocate. She takes my hand and pulls me toward the house. “Mikel told me that you must work but I told him that you must celebrate. No more boss.” I’m guessing she means Jack because she must know that her husband is now my boss, although clearly not hers.
“I do have to do some work. I’ve got to learn all I need to know to sell Mikel’s planes.”
She waves me off. “They sell themselves, everyone will want one.”
I’m about to point out that not everyone can afford one so I need to find those people but I realize arguing with her is useless. “Yes, everyone will want one.”
The house is a combination of ancient stones wrapped around modern amenities. Inside the main room has a panoramic view of the lake and a stone floor with a gleaming, modern kitchen off to the left. Annalize leads me up a black metal, floating staircase to my bedroom. Mikel follows with my bag.
“You are in this room. I like the view.” My bed is turned to face two windows that overlook vine and flower covered rocks with a glimpse of the lake beyond. I look out. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”
“Mikel and I will be across the hall.” I glance into their stunning room. White walls reflect all the sunlight pouring in through their bay window lake view. The furniture is dark and solid, adding a strong masculine element to all that light. Two classic paintings of nudes hang along a hallway that must lead to their bathroom or closet, their colors rich and sensual. I’m drawn in but I resist. Not mine, I remind myself, but I make mental notes to add some of these elements to my own bedroom. Annalize has moved on with her tour.
“We will have more guests.” She gestures to two other bedrooms. “They will come tomorrow.”
Yeah, she definitely didn’t get the notice that this is a work trip. She’s planning a full-blown party. I guess I don’t hide my hesitation well because she pulls me close to her and puts an arm around me. “It will be fine. You will work too, not to worry.” She squeezes me close. “You worry too much.” She turns me toward my room. “Go now and rest. I will make dinner and call for you when it is ready.”
She cooks? I always pictured her having a cook, and a maid, a butler, landscaper…
Spending time in my beautiful room is tempting but I’m too keyed up to rest. “I might go for a walk, into town or along the lake…”
This plan gets her approval, “Si, walk. Mikel can go with you. Show you around.”
Laid-back as always, Mikel only nods his approval then reminds me to bring a jacket because the wind off the lake can be cool.
✈ ✈ ✈
If he were not married to one of the most beautiful women in all of Italy my walk with Mikel could be a perfect date. He’s smart, full of knowledge about the region, and charming, complimenting me and taking my hand to cross uneven areas. He laughs at my jokes. The longer I’m around him the more attractive he gets.
I write it off to my own lack of a love life and the mood in the air. I’ve heard it said that being in Italy puts you in the mood for romance but it is something else to experience it firsthand. I try not to but I find myself studying him. He’s not the type I generally pick, not as brawny and solid as Danny, but he does have a nice body—long legs, a great ass, and ropey forearms that promise more long muscles under light olive skin on other parts of his body. I’m kind of relieved when we finally wind our way back to the house. Seeing him with his wife should kill this hunger.
But, no. Just like in Vegas the hot spark between them is an even stronger reminder that my libido has been relegated to the back burner for way too long. They are the most adorable couple, even sexier than they were in Vegas. Away from the stress of getting financial backing for Ora, Mikel is playful with Annalize and they can’t keep their hands off each other.
I smile at them when they catch me looking and they both return smiles that seem to say, “join us in our fun.” Surely they can’t mean it literally. They must want me to find someone here and have some fun of my own…right?
Chapter Four
Why didn’t I pack a vibrator? I mean I can use my hand but I’m going to get carpal tunnel syndrome before this weekend is over. The air in this house is thick with lust and I can hear Annalize and Mikel going at it in their room across the hall. Fuck he must be good or she is just super appreciative. After one good solid orgasm I’m exhausted (but they’re not). I drift off to the sound of Annalize’s orgasm aria.
I don’t see Mikel the next morning. She must have worn him out because he sleeps in late, but Annalize wakes me to have breakfast then go to her hairdresser. She’s glowing and looks like a million bucks and I’m pea green with jealousy. The famous line from the diner scene in When Harry Met Sally plays in my head—“I’ll have what she’s having.” She dances around the kitchen, making us coffee, and encouraging me to eat. Luckily she’s too blissed-out to notice my mood.
The hairdresser is in town so we can walk and I count my blessin
gs. I remember Mikel’s warning about not riding in a car with her. I sit in the chair as she and a swishy, gay Italian man passionately discuss my hair, complete with lots of hand gestures. They’re talking way too fast for me to translate, but I’m sure they’re using phrases like, complete disaster and rat’s nest.
Three and a half hours later I’m finished. It wouldn’t have taken so long except half way through both the hairdresser and Annalize decided it was break time and stopped to brew coffee and then sit down and enjoy a cup. I declined, wanting to get this show on the road—not that I really had anywhere to go on that road. I’m just not used to a haircut taking so long.
However, when I see the final result I lose some of my irritation. Damn. Who is that in the mirror? The man is a genius. He added some very subtle highlights around my face and on the ends. My normally kinda fuzzy hair is falling in soft cascades around my face and over my shoulders. I swing my head and it floats like soft, brown waves.
Annalize waits patiently while I admire myself from all angles. She’s puffed up too, proud of her work. I thank the man, who I realize she never formally introduced me to. He smiles back but doesn’t reply then shoos us out of his shop in Italian. I’m starting to think he doesn’t speak any English. Out on the street I realize that we didn’t pay.
“Annalize.” I pull her hand to stop her from briskly walking toward our next stop. “I need to pay him. How much do I owe?”
She waves me off and turns to keep walking. “Is done.” I have to scamper to catch up with her. “But I should pay. This is too much.”
She grabs my hand so I will stay in step with her. “No cara, this is my joy. You will see how beautiful you are.”
Our next stop is a lingere shop—lace heaven. I have a few sexy pieces but they somehow pale compared to these. The bra she has me try on isn’t padded and pushed up. It’s sheer with strategically placed seams that give my girls a natural but slightly uplifted look. The delicate lace edges stand out against my extremely pale skin, making a trait I used to hate look sexy. The matching panties curve around my ass cheeks and skim my round hips. It’s all so beautiful but it’s also reminding me of last night and a possible repeat performance tonight. I don’t need this right now.
Not that Annalize will listen when I tell her it’s too expensive and no thanks from over the dressing room door.
“Cara, you need these.” It’s a statement, not a question and a confirmation that my lack of a love life is playing out in my style. I’m starting to look like the work autobot that I’ve become.
I peep over the door again to tell her, “Ok, but I have to buy these.” But she’s already at the register swiping her credit card. The clerk is wrapping up a deep purple lace set that matches the black I’m trying on. As I’m undressing I shout out, “I’ll get you for this.”
She laughs, enjoying that she is not only getting to do a make-over on me but that she is beating me at the paying game too. She’s a lot more clever than I gave her credit for.
Back on the street she announces, “Now we can eat, then a dress.”
I walk in front of her so she has to stop and pay attention to me. “Can I at least pay for lunch?”
She pushes past me and keeps walking, “No.”
I run after her, “Annalize, I appreciate this but…”She’s not listening to me as she takes a cobblestone hill with ease and grace in her low-heeled shoes. When she’s almost at the top of the hill I sprint after her. I’m panting when I reach her. “Do you always get your way?”
She shrugs and thinks about it for half a second, “Si.”
I laugh at her audacity and she is amused. “Why are you laughing? You are the same.”
I’m shocked when I realize that she’s actually right. She and I are more alike than I ever would have guessed. And she’s also wiser than I give her credit for. She’s been studying me and she’s nailed me. I mentally scold myself for making the same shallow assumptions that so many do about beautiful women.
We turn into a small café at the top of the hill that has a view of the lake below. She chooses the exact table that I would—in the shade, great view, slight breeze—and beckons me to sit. The waiter rushes over, welcoming her and no doubt complimenting her in Italian. She orders something for both of us. I’m not sure what because she doesn’t tell me.
She relaxes into her chair and lets the breeze blow her hair back. I’m transfixed. Sure she is beautiful but she’s also an intoxicating combination of joyful and calm, like a person on a perpetual vacation. She catches me staring and smiles at me as if being admired is something to bask in.
“You are having fun? No?” It’s a challenge. She’s pushing me to admit that I’m enjoying letting her take over.
I concede. “Yes, I’m having fun.”
She hears hesitation in my answer. “But…?” The waiter comes with two glasses of wine and two bottles of water.
“But I am just like you. I do like to run the show,” I shrug an apology for bragging, “because I’m good at it.”
“Si, you are. I have seen you do your work, do not apologize.”
“I didn’t apologize.” What the hell is she talking about?
She pantomimes my shoulder shrug but makes it look really meek.
She’s caught me, damn it. She’s right and it irritates me. To ease my irritation she reaches up and caresses my cheek and fluffs my hair a little. “You will learn. Now you work for an Italian, you will learn to be Italian.” She sits up straight, shoulders back, perfect breasts out and glances around her, smiling and seducing everyone and everything in her presence.
✈ ✈ ✈
When we get home in the late afternoon there is clattering coming from the kitchen. Annalize stops in there first and greets a woman prepping vegetables. She doesn’t introduce me so I wave hello then follow her out to the balcony where Mikel is working on his laptop. His eyes light up and he raises his eyebrows at me when he sees me.
“Anna has been busy. Bella, cara.”
His compliments roll down my entire body. I blush and have to force myself to make eye contact, hoping he can’t see that I’m remembering how his and Annalize’s voice sounded last night. I’m seriously turned on right now, embarrassingly so.
“Uh, thanks.” I push a strand of hair behind my ear and try hard not to look like a teenager with a crush. “We had a great afternoon.” I gesture toward Annalize, hoping to turn his attention away from me.
It works but really only makes matters worse because they kiss hello, and caress hello, and hug hello, two gorgeous, sexy people oozing love and lust.
I clear my throat so I can talk through my urges. “I, um, I’m just going to take this upstairs and, um…”
Annalize runs her fingernails up Mikel’s back, a cat prepping her prey. “I need to rest before the others arrive.” She kisses his lips, jaw, then neck. “You come too?”
Oh hell no. Not again. I pop my fingers and try to relax my wrist. I’m going to be needing this hand again soon. I scurry up the stairs, shut myself in my room and fall back on the bed and just lay there trying to get a grip on my feelings. How do I feel? I feel…sneaky-sexy, dolled up in decadent black lace under my dull jeans and tee shirt. My nipples press against the stiff seams and lace and it pulls a soft moan from me. I feel like I’ve fallen into a smoky, sultry Italian sex movie and I’m not entirely comfortable being here. It feels too free, too un-constrained, too loose. My body is clearly onboard for the ride but my brain wants to slam on the brakes.
Luckily I’m still dressed and staring at the ceiling when Annalize softly knocks and comes in before I can invite her to. She smiles at me then stretches out across the bed next to me.
“The others will be arriving soon but we can rest until it is time to eat.” She fondles my hair as she tells me this. I try to stay relaxed but I can’t. I’m turned on and confused. I want her to stay here and talk to me in her beautiful voice and play with my hair but I also want her to leave. She leans over me and puckers he
r lips. I go ridged and stop breathing anticipating her kiss on my lips. But she only kisses my forehead and shakes her head.
“You are so tense.” I don’t even realize how bunched up my face muscles are until she rubs between my eyes gently. “Americans.” More reproachful head shaking.
I shrug to let her know I can’t help it. I can’t speak through my tension.
Before getting off the bed she smooths my forehead one more time. “Try to rest.”
“I will.” Comes out as a tight squeak and I don’t breathe again until the door shuts behind her.
✈ ✈ ✈
Mikel must have turned down her offer of a nap together because I don’t hear them. I lay there, trying to give in to my exhaustion but I can’t, I’m still too keyed up and confused. Then I have to pee.
I open my door quietly, not wanting to wake Annalize, and glance briefly at her bedroom to see if her door is closed. It isn’t…at all. She is asleep, wearing only her gorgeous lace panties and bra and Mikel. He’s curled around her, dressed, and holding her close. I watch as they breathe in unison, so peaceful and content and another emotion overtakes all the others, jealousy. I want that. I want peaceful naps with my brain not running in overdrive snuggled up against a warm, male body. I want Danny back so I can keep trying with him.
My bladder reminds me that I need to stop staring. Back in my room I undress, exposing my hidden sexy side. I slide between the smooth sheets wearing only my bra and panties and allow the cool fabric to soothe me. Lust rises up again, thoughts of Danny, thoughts of Mikel. I try to push him aside but I can’t. He’s so close, so sensual. My hand slides into my panties but in my mind it’s his graceful fingers, his long forearm resting on my hip. I know it’s wrong so I throw in just enough guilt to allow myself to go there.
