by Zoe Ann Wood
But now she had a chance to explore a famous, ancient city. The sun was already high, beating down on the enormous monument visible from the living room.
“I’m going to go see that.” She pointed out the window.
Daniel followed her gaze. “Okay.” He pursed his lips as though mulling over something.
“What?” Ava asked. “I don’t have anything pressing to work on—not until you sign that contract.”
He shook his head, a slight smile curling his lips. “It’s not that. I was wondering whether you’d be safe out there.”
She scoffed. “I’ll be surrounded by hordes of tourists.”
But he didn’t seem to be satisfied. “Would you please turn on your Buddy app?”
Ava sighed. She never should have told him about it—but they’d both added the little pushpin-shaped icon to their phones after getting separated and lost trying to navigate a street carnival in Beijing.
“All right,” she said. “If it makes you feel better.”
“It does,” he confirmed. Then he stood there, watching her with a curious expression.
Ava fidgeted, dropping her gaze to her feet. “Well, I’d better get changed—”
“What will you do for dinner?” he interrupted.
She flushed but hoped he’d chalk it up to the heat creeping in through the terrace window. Walking over, she shut it and switched on the AC. “I…thought I’d find a restaurant on the fly, grab a steak or a salad.”
He shuffled his feet, looking almost shy for a moment, if a man like him did ‘shy.’ “Do you want company?”
Ava opened her mouth to say, ‘Nah, you rest here, I’m good,’ but something in his tone stopped her. Instead, she blurted, “Sure. When do you want to meet?”
He gave her a heart-stopping grin. “I won’t sleep for too long or I’ll be up all night. I’ll find you at dinnertime.” He pointed at her phone.
Ava snorted. After this trip, she was deleting the app. The temptation to turn it on and watch Daniel’s little dot move around was too great. She had enough trouble keeping him out of her thoughts.
With a wave, he strode into his bedroom and closed the door behind him. Ava stood perfectly still, listening for movement, but didn’t hear anything. Her shoulders relaxed, and she let out a shuddering breath.
Had she really agreed to a dinner with Daniel?
The moment the concern crossed her mind, an endless list of worries followed. But she put a stop to it immediately. She would not ruin her lovely day in Rome agonizing over him. They’d had dinners before on work trips, and they talked about work projects and all the regular life stuff. She could do this.
Changing quickly into a flowing maxi dress and slathering her pale face and now-exposed shoulders with sunscreen, she grabbed her purse and left. She would not think of Daniel at all and would focus instead on the wonderful city she was in.
An hour later, she was definitely thinking about Daniel. Specifically, about his comment on the many slaves who had died in this massive stone structure she was visiting.
“Emperor Trajan is said to have thrown a contest involving ten thousand animals and just as many gladiators to celebrate his victories in Dacia,” the tour guide whispered, his eyes going wide to emphasize the point. “Imagine the sheer amount of…”
Ava tuned him out, trying not to fill her head with more images of death and carnage. Romans were a seriously bloody culture, and she’d just about had it with this temple of violence.
The moment the tour ended, she hurried outside, desperate to cleanse herself of the foul taste the tour had left in her mouth. Fishing her phone from her purse, she pulled up her map app and zoomed in on her location. She needed something nice. Something beautiful and peaceful.
A walk through the busy Roman streets lightened her mood. June was the height of the season, so there were tourists everywhere—large groups following tour guides holding up signs or folded umbrellas, smaller bands of students with overflowing backpacks and flip-flops, and couples traveling alone. Everyone was taking photos, so she didn’t feel out of place snapping pictures of the cobblestoned streets where the rust-colored, peeling façades added to the authentic vibe of the area. She hopped aside when scooters zoomed by, locals dashing around at breakneck speed. And she visited first a pasticceria for a crunchy, ricotta-filled and pistachio-dipped cannoli, and then, an hour later, a gelateria for the best strawberry ice cream she’d ever had. She squashed a moment of guilt over straying from her usual diet—this was a special occasion, after all.
She visited the Pantheon, gaping at the giant hole in its ceiling, and discovered a perfect little café just a short walk away. The scent of freshly roasted coffee enveloped her in its seductive embrace, and she ordered a cappuccino at the bar, sitting on one of the tall stools. The waitress brought her the cup and smiled when Ava exclaimed over the pretty coffee-and-milk flower on the top.
She wished she could share the moment with Daniel. Then she cursed him for invading her thoughts in this peaceful moment and pulled out her phone instead. She snapped a photo of her coffee and sent it to her sister.
I miss you. I’ll see you soon.
She wanted the kind of life her sister had. A happy marriage, a child. And until she got away from Daniel, no man would ever compare to him. She’d tried, goodness, she’d tried to push him out of her head, to date other men, but no matter how charming or handsome or intelligent they were, none of them could hold a candle to her boss.
“Here, add a little chocolate.”
Ava looked up to find the friendly waitress from earlier offering her a large spice shaker. She accepted it and turned it upside down over her coffee, dusting the foamy milk with cocoa.
“Thank you,” she said, grateful for the small kindness.
But the woman had already bustled away, taking a tray of tiny espresso cups to a party of seniors.
After that, her mood improved. So what if she was hung up on an unavailable man. There were worse things in life.
Her sister’s reply had her thinking, too. I’m so jealous, Cara had written.
Ava knew her sister wouldn’t take Ava’s job if it was offered to her because she loved her own as a kindergarten teacher, but it gave Ava a new perspective. She’d been so mired down in her own misery over not being able to have Daniel that she’d forgotten all about the parts of her job that excited her. She contributed to saving the planet every single day. Where on earth could she find another position that could compare?
Maybe she could ask Daniel to assign her to a different division of the company so she didn’t have to work so closely with him every day.
She ambled through the streets, visiting one of the small churches that seemed to stand around every corner and poking her head into cramped clothes boutiques. By the time she reached the Trevi fountain, she’d acquired a new scarf for herself, a pair of earrings for Cara, and a fridge magnet for her parents.
She stopped dead at the sight of the massive fountain. The crowds moved around her, but she barely noticed them—she only had eyes for the magnificent marble sculptures and the turquoise water of the pool.
“Wow,” she breathed, knowing nobody could hear her. She didn’t even try to take a photo, just squeezed closer through the mass of people, trying to get to the edge. Once there, she flipped a coin into the water, wishing for clarity, above all.
What should I do? The question burned inside her, and she knew she would have to make a decision soon. She only hoped it would be the right one.
Four
Daniel
He tracked Ava down at the Trevi fountain. He’d recognize her red hair anywhere, but her sea-green sleeveless dress also drew his gaze. Standing next to the clear pool, she looked like a siren rising from the water to come tempt him, an artist’s muse. He had no idea her hair curled like that; he’d never seen it undone.
Daniel shook himself, then tried waving at her to catch her attention. But it was no use. The crowds were too thick, and Ava’s gaz
e seemed firmly fixed on the fountain in front of her. He sidestepped couples holding hands, apologized to a young father with a toddler on his shoulders, and finally, there she was, still turned toward the sculptures.
“Ava,” he called, and somehow, in the din of a hundred conversations, she heard his voice.
She turned to face him; her contemplative expression morphed into a sweet smile, hitting him straight in the chest. He wanted her and he didn’t know how long he could hide it from her. Surely his thoughts were written all over his face.
But no, she didn’t seem to notice anything. She pointed behind her. “That’s something, huh?” Glancing back over her shoulder, she let out a sigh. “Is it bad I’m happy I got a free afternoon?”
Daniel snorted, then offered her his arm, happiness surging through him when she accepted. He led them through the throngs of tourists onto a calmer side street. “You just liked that statue because it’s half-naked,” he joked and got an elbow in the ribs as her answer.
“But seriously, I feel bad for playing tourist. By this point, we should have had a signed contract,” she commented, tugging him into a different direction.
Daniel was thoroughly turned around; he hadn’t really taken notice of where he was walking earlier, he’d just followed the green dot that represented Ava’s phone. “Where are we going?” he asked. “And there’s no need to feel guilty. It would be a crime not to see Rome while you have a chance.”
“I found a street lined with restaurants earlier,” she replied. “I’m starving.”
Her arm was still hooked through his; he didn’t think she noticed, and he wasn’t going to tell her. But by the time they reached the next street corner, she gasped, dropping his arm and digging through her purse.
“I saw the Pantheon,” she told him, her eyes luminous with excitement. “It’s magnificent. Look.”
On her phone, she swiped through several photos of the beautiful old church that had once served as a Roman temple.
“I’ve never been there,” Daniel admitted. On his college trip through Europe, he and his friends had mostly searched for dramatic attractions such as the Colosseum…and clubs for partying. They’d been twenty-two and stupid, but they’d had a fantastic time.
Ava was studying him as though she could sense his thoughts. “We can go tomorrow if you’d like. I wouldn’t mind seeing it again. Then there’s this cute little café where they roast their own coffee …”
They wound through the streets, Ava keeping up a constant stream of commentary on the historic buildings they passed and her experience with the city and its inhabitants so far. “Everyone’s so nice,” she said, then pointed at a trattoria down the street. “I thought we could try out that one.”
It was a quaint restaurant in a small courtyard, removed from the bustle of the streets. The signs were all in Italian, so he didn’t really know what they were serving, but the other guests’ plates were filled with mounds of pasta, big salads, and fish. The entire courtyard smelled divine, which was what convinced him.
“All right,” he said. “Lead on.”
Ava didn’t move. Chewing her lower lip, she looked up at him. “You don’t mind that it’s not…fancy? Or organic-certified?”
Daniel gave her a rueful smile. “I do tend to complicate things, don’t I?” He scratched the back of his head. “It’s not… Well, if I’m home and I get to pick and choose where I’m putting my money and which local businesses I’m supporting, I do care about those things. But I’m not going to fuss about it here.”
Her answering smile was beautiful. “When in Rome, huh?”
He laughed, allowing her to lead him to a small wooden table covered with a crisp white tablecloth. It stood five feet from a wall trellis completely covered by a curtain of jasmine—the scent was so strong it was almost unpleasant, but after several breaths, Daniel appreciated the sensation. The flowers created a backdrop for Ava’s beauty, and he was reminded of Botticelli’s Primavera painting, though in his opinion, the masterpiece had nothing on her, no matter how blasphemous that might be.
The matron of the house materialized next to them, taking their order. She was a kind middle-aged lady who recommended pasta for their entrees and lamb for the main course—Daniel didn’t doubt those were the very best options on the menu. Ava had a way of charming people, and this lady was no exception. Ava’s earnest smile and kind words were the best at opening doors—yet she never tried to profit from that.
He admired her so much.
Annnd…she appeared to be asking him something. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I said I’d have a glass of their house white wine,” she said, nodding at the matron. “What will you have?”
“Uh, the same,” he said, having missed the entire wine conversation. It wasn’t like him, being distracted like that, but something about this situation—the city, the smells, the suppressed grin on Ava’s face—scrambled his mind.
Another waiter brought them a basket of fragrant white bread and a small dish filled with olive oil for dunking. Ava tore off a piece of crust and swirled it in the oil.
Daniel gaped at her. “You’re eating carbs.”
She glowered. “Yeah, so?”
“No, I didn’t mean…” He shook his head. “I didn’t mean to imply that was bad. It’s just that I haven’t seen you eat bread since…” He trailed off, realizing he’d likely said too much.
What kind of lunatic followed his colleagues’ eating habits that closely? Resisting the urge to groan, he busied himself by copying her and took a chunk of bread. The crust was perfectly crunchy, the middle sweet and pillowy. The olive oil was rich and full of flavor—he tasted the earthy tones, humming with pleasure.
Ava’s expression softened, and a faint blush appeared on her freckled cheeks. “I stopped eating carbs because my sister decided to try a paleo diet to lose her baby weight,” she said. “I joined her for support. That was two years ago, and I continued, because I feel much better not eating carbs. But that doesn’t mean I’ll say no to that.” She pointed discreetly at the next table, where a young couple were tucking into a shared plate of pasta.
“When in Rome, right?” Daniel repeated her earlier comment.
“Exactly.”
Their food arrived, and it was as delicious as the smells had heralded. On Daniel’s plate, sugo all’amatriciana coated thick, long bucatini, and Ava stole a bite while she told him to sample her pasta alla gricia. The lamb that followed was perfectly roasted, still pink in the middle. The cool white wine was fresh without being tart, and the dessert… Well, they first opted to share a cup of tiramisu, but they finished it so fast, they ordered another.
Their conversation never once strayed into dangerous territory, yet Daniel couldn’t remember when he’d last enjoyed himself that much on a date. Though this was not a date but a friendly dinner with a colleague.
He was happy he’d picked jeans and a simple shirt when he’d left the hotel earlier; his business suit wouldn’t have belonged on these relaxed, warm Roman streets at all. For once, he didn’t want to be the CEO of a global empire, but just a guy hanging out with a beautiful woman.
After dinner, they ambled back toward the hotel, stopping to stroll through the giardino di Montecavallo, catching the last rays of the golden sun that sank slowly behind the terra-cotta rooftops of the capital. The many churches’ bells tolled, inviting people to evening mass, a discordant symphony of noise that somehow fit the place. This city had been the center of culture for centuries, and it would remain one of the most beautiful sights in the world.
“I don’t stop to appreciate things often enough,” Ava said, echoing his thoughts. She walked next to him, her expression content but tired. “But we’re so lucky.”
He smiled, though she wasn’t looking at him to see it. “Yes, we are.”
At the hotel, he ordered their breakfast to be sent to their suite at nine, hoping to get a morning run in before they dug into whatever work must have accumulated during
the day in Boston. They’d agreed that they were taking tonight off—both of them were still jet-lagged and needed rest.
Ava yawned in the elevator, covering her mouth with her hand, and a shiver ran through her, the skin on her arms breaking out in goosebumps. Daniel stood close enough to notice all this—which also meant he was close enough to touch. He absolutely wasn’t going to touch her, even though by any standards, their dinner-and-stroll evening had been miles better than any of the dates he’d been on in the past couple of years.
“Thank you for the dinner,” she murmured when they stopped in the living room of the suite. “I had a lovely time tonight.”
Daniel leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. He could blame it on jet lag later, or perhaps it was her kind, open expression. He didn’t linger yet felt her surprised exhale against his cheek. Never before had he stood so close to her, and his instincts were clamoring at him to wrap his arms around her, to kiss her soft mouth—she wasn’t running away, but staring up at him, her gray eyes wide and serious.
He stepped back. “My pleasure,” he said, his voice rougher than he’d intended. “Good night, Ava.”
With that, he forced himself to walk into his bedroom and shut the door behind him, locking it for good measure, which was ridiculous. Ava wasn’t going to come banging on his door, demanding entry—he was the one who’d crossed another boundary just now. The past twenty-four hours had been filled with ill-considered touches; he’d left his defenses down, and now he was paying for it.
The softness of her skin would haunt him at night, and he doubted he would get much sleep. He needed to stop behaving like the worst kind of boss, imposing himself on a female employee, and go back to being his best professional self. He could do it. He’d been doing it for four years, so it shouldn’t be a problem.
Daniel threw himself on the bed, still dressed, and resolved to wait until all sounds of Ava’s movements died down. Then he could get up and get some work done after all, since rest wasn’t an option just yet. He would pay for it tomorrow, but maybe he could catch a nap during the day.
