by Jessica Gray
“Smart,” Preston commented. He looked a bit closer and then pointed towards what looked like an ancient pulley system, “They were quite advanced?”
Gina followed his finger and nodded, “They had crude elevators for lifting things such as dangerous animals up into the Amphitheatre. There’s even evidence that several of the tunnels were connected to the main aqueduct so that the entire arena could be flooded in a short amount of time.”
“That’s amazing considering when this was built,” Preston commented.
“Yes. In recent years they’ve been trying to repair parts of the Colosseum. They cleaned up a lot of the debris and installed new gates to keep people out of places that weren’t safe to wander. They’ve also been working to preserve the structure that is still standing today.”
Preston admired the level of skill evident in the walls of this two-thousand-year-old structure. Tucked within the cracks of crevices of the walls, were a variety of green plants, many of them bearing flowers. Gina saw him looking at the plants and offered more information.
“They tried to eradicate the plant-life years ago, but most of it came right back. I personally think it looks nice, but some people believe it is contributing to decay.” Gina paused and then asked him, “How about lunch?”
“I could eat. Did you have someplace in mind?”
“Near the Spanish steps. After that, we could go by the Vatican and visit St. Peter’s Basilica.”
“Sounds like a plan. Lead the way.” Preston swatted her backside and she gave a small shriek of protest.
Preston observed in awe the beauty of the widest stairway in Europe. It was adorned with blossoming pink azaleas. Unfortunately about a million other tourists wanted to visit the Spanish steps, too.
“Let’s get away from the crowd,” Preston suggested.
Gina nodded and let him to a tiny sandwich place a few minutes away. They sat outside, enjoying the sunshine, eating delightful sandwiches and drinking sodas. They talked, giggled and kissed.
Like any normal couple, Preston thought. I wish we could do this every day. His hand searched for Gina’s hand and the moment her deep green eyes locked with his, it hit him in the stomach. I want her. Only her.
After lunch they drove to the Vatican.
“So, this is where the Pope lives?” Preston asked as she parked her Vespa just slightly in violation of the traffic rules.
“Yes, this is where the Pope resides when he’s in Italy.”
As they approached St. Peter’s Basilica, Gina took a moment and put on soft cardigan with sleeves to her elbows.
“Are you cold?” he asked her, swiping a bead of sweat from his forehead.
“No, but there is a very strict dress code for visiting the Vatican. No shorts. No miniskirts. No bare shoulders. Many tourists come here dressed in beach-like attire, only to find themselves turned away. The Vatican police are not known for making any exceptions.” She linked arms with him and steered him toward the entrance.
“That’s a long queue up there,” he said and pointed ahead to the long line of people waiting to enter.
“Wait and see,” she grinned at him. Then she pulled him towards the VIP entrance, where she flashed her tourist guide ID. “Being part of the tourism industry has its advantages.”
“I can see that.”
They entered the church and Preston gasped at the sight of the massive nave. The cathedral consisted of four principal buildings, all connected to the large dome by a series of dome piers. Aisles led to the lateral chapels and towering columns of marble supported the elaborate domed ceiling within.
The floors were a combination of geometric marble patterns, the walls contained stucco figures, rich in gilding and mosaic decorations and several bronze statues were cordoned off.
A slight discomfort took hold of Preston at the thought of the arching dome crashing down on them. The space was enormous, easily able to hold one hundred thousand worshippers. Despite the long lines of tourists outside and the vast number of people milling around the Basilica seemed empty and the serene tranquility enveloped Preston.
This church was different from the modern ones he knew from home. Thousands of years of Christianity concentrated its energy in this space. He glanced at Gina, who seemed equally stirred.
“The atmosphere gets to me every time,” she whispered.
“Yes, it’s amazing. So divine,” he answered and followed her.
Soon enough the celestial atmosphere had taken hold of him and calmed his inner turmoil. In here, nothing mattered, all the problems of the world stayed outside.
He smiled at Gina, as they wandered through the halls. She quietly pointed out several important artifacts, including the tomb of Saint Peter, and the high altar in the tribune where historic events such as the crowning of German emperors had occurred in eras long gone.
Gina led him to the large holy water basins that Preston recalled having seen representations of in various prints. Marble reliefs of past Popes were erected in small alcoves, along with plaques with their name and place of birth.
Everywhere he admired elaborate works of art, sculptures, and items that pointed to the holy nature of the site.
“Do you want to go down to the crypts?” Gina asked him after they’d been wandering through the large church for almost two hours.
Preston looked at her and shook his head, “Not really, is it worth seeing?”
Gina nodded and took his hand, leading him down the stairs and into another part of the structure they hadn’t explored yet. Preston followed along, making the appropriate sounds of appreciation when she pointed out this and that, but he was finished playing tourist and ready to leave.
She picked up on his growing boredom and grinned, “Had enough sight-seeing for the day?”
“Yeah, I’m ready for sunshine and earthly pleasures.”
“How about we sneak back into the hotel and have something truly scrumptious for dinner?” She giggled in a low voice.
Preston squeezed her hand for a moment, “I think that could be arranged. In fact, I’m sure of it. You figure out how to sneak us back inside and I take care of dinner.”
“Just leave that up to me. We got out, we can get back in.” Her mischievous smile lit up her entire face and if he weren’t in a church, he’d pressed his lips onto hers to ravage her in a passionate kiss.
Chapter 22
St. Peter’s Basilica was one of Gina’s favorite places to visit in Rome. During every visit she discovered something new. Not today though. She’d been exclusively focused on Preston.
Some American tourists had the annoying habit to be loud and boastful, not minding the holy atmosphere of the place. But Preston was different. He’d seemed as deeply stirred from the energy of the Basilica as she was – every time. Her heart softened, but before she could start dreaming about a common future, she appealed to her senses. There’s no us. No future. We live in two different worlds. Monday morning I go back to my world and never see him again. It’s for the best.
Deep in thoughts, she automatically steered towards the VIP entrance to exit the Basilica. Loud voices reached her ears, and she furrowed her brows. Another obnoxious tourist. Already some spectators gathered to rubberneck at the tumult. Gina grabbed Preston’s hand to force a way through the crowd.
“What’s going on?” Preston asked, picking up on the commotion.
Gina shrugged, “Who knows. Let’s get outside and leave the crowd behind.”
Preston nodded and followed her into the sunlight. For a moment was blinded, but then she became aware of the cause for the commotion. A stunning blonde in an elegant arctic blue summer dress argued with the guard. She wore a very expensive looking gold necklace draped around her neck and seemed oblivious to the fact that a sleeveless dress wasn’t appropriate clothing for a religious site.
The guard explained in his best English the dress code for the Vatican and its churches, but the woman wouldn’t listen. Gina couldn’t hear what she said, but fr
om the look on her face she tried to convince the guard that she was someone important who deserved different rules because of her special status.
Gina couldn’t hold back a smug grin. No one gets special status at the Vatican.
“What’s going on?” Preston tugged at her hand and asked.
“Some rich lady seems to think the rules only to apply to others,” Gina answered and nodded towards the blonde.
Another official appeared at the entrance, holding out a scarf and gesturing for the blonde to tie it around her shoulders. But the woman didn’t take it. Instead she shoved the man’s hands away from her, causing him to drop the scarf to the ground as she sneered nastily at him.
Gina shook her head. Who does she think she is? The Virgin Mary? She grabbed Preston’s hand tighter and tried to drag him through the increasing crowed, but he remained rooted to the spot, watching the spectacle unfold in front of them.
“You imbecile! I have a right to enter this church. I’ll get you fired if you don’t let me inside,” the blonde screamed at the guards.
“Miss, you may not enter dressed like that.”
“This is a Chanel haute-couture dress. Who’re you to decide it’s not elegant enough for this stupid church? You apparently have no idea who I am! Are there only idiots in this country?” Her voice overturned into miserable shrieking.
When the other man once again tried to offer her the scarf, she turned her venom on him. “I don’t want that pathetic scarf, you idiot!” She cursed at him and then shoved him away from her. By now hundreds of onlookers had gathered.
“Isn’t that…from the video?” someone whispered.
Gina instinctively cast her eyes to the floor afraid someone had recognized her. She glanced at Preston for reassurement, but what she found was pure horror. He was slightly green around the gills, his eyes fixated on the woman causing so much ruckus.
“What’s wrong?” Gina asked him.
“That’s Sandrine. My ex-fiancé.” Preston’s voice was a disgusted whisper.
Gina’s eyes widened and she felt like she’d been hit by a jackhammer. That was Sandrine?
Preston grabbed her arm and attempted to pull her away, out of Sandrine’s line of vision, but he wasn’t quick enough.
“Damn it!” he exclaimed as the livid woman advanced upon them. Preston stepped in front of Gina, to keep her out of Sandrine’s line of attack.
“You bastard! How dare you come to this holy place with your little bitch!” Sandrine screamed.
Gina saw Preston clenching his jaw and fisting his hands. If Sandrine were a guy, he’d surely knock her out. Clicking sounds and flashes startled her and she looked around at the crowd, where several people had raised their smart phones and cameras to record the crazy scene.
Like a robot, she followed their example and took a video of Sandrine’s adult temper tantrum. The poor guy looked thoroughly helpless and didn’t even dare to defend himself. But he didn’t have to wait long, before another Vatican official came out from behind his booth and attempted to conciliate.
“Miss, your behavior is inappropriate on the grounds of the Holy See. Please calm down.”
“Don’t you tell me what to do! Who do you think you are? And do you know who this man is? He’s the shitty boyfriend who dumped me for that nasty bitch over there,” Sandrine pointed at Gina, who felt all her blood rushing to her ears. The humming was deafening.
“Miss, if you don’t calm down I’m going call the Pontifical Swiss Guards.”
“Call them, see if I care,” Sandrine quipped, once again turning her vitriol on Preston.
Gina took another step back together with the crowd, as Sandrine struck out and slapped Preston across the face. Gina closed her eyes and prayed the Vatican military police would arrive soon. Most people only knew the Pontifical Swiss Guards standing sentinel over the entrance gates to the Vatican in traditional uniforms of blue, red, orange and yellow with a distinctly Renaissance flare.
What they didn’t know was that the Swiss guards were soldiers who had served in the Swiss Armed Forces as well as undergone additional training in unarmed combat, small firearms, and anything a good bodyguard of the Pope had to know. The ceremonial role was just one small part of their duties, and since the assassination attempt on Pop John Paul II their focus had been turned to protecting the Pope, or the Holy See.
Within minutes two Swiss guards arrived, dressed in regular duty uniform. They wore a solid blue overall with a white color and white gloves, black boots and the characteristic black beret.
Gina exhaled.
Confronted with three soldiers, Sandrine stopped putting up resistance and let them escort her away from the entrance to St. Peter’s cathedral.
One of the guards stayed behind for a moment and addressed Preston, “Are you alright, sir?”
“I’m fine.” Preston nodded, clearly shaken up.
Gina pocketed her phone and joined him, “Ready to leave?”
“Yes, let’s get out of here before the press arrive.” Preston wrapped his arm around her shoulder and they walked to her Vespa. For today they’d enjoyed enough chaos and drama.
Chapter 23
Preston wrapped his arms around Gina’s midriff, relieved she was in the driver’s seat. His mind was awash with disbelief over the Sandrine he’d just witnessed. He’d never believed anyone could behave so horrific, lest a woman he loved. Thought to love. He’d been to bedazzled by her stunning looks to see her character. I’m just glad I found out before the wedding.
Shame rose to his face. Sandrine hadn’t been the only one full of herself. His family had tried to warn him that she wasn’t what she seemed, but he’d been unwilling to listen to any of their criticism. I’ll have to apologize to them
Soon enough, Gina parked the Vespa at the back service entrance of the hotel. They entered the hotel in silence and made their way to his suite. Several employees nodded a greeting to them, but Preston didn’t stop. Today he wasn’t in the mood to exchange small talk.
“Well. That was an interesting end to our day,” Gina said, flopping down on a couch and kicking off her shoes.
Preston gave her a rueful grin and toed his own shoes off, leaving them lying by the front door. “That’s one way to describe what just happened.”
“I don’t understand how someone as smart as you are could be with a woman like her.” Gina asked and glanced at him as if the answer might be written on his forehead.
“I don’t understand it myself. Sandrine was always so sweet and accommodating…my family told me a few things about how she wasn’t what she was pretending to be, but I didn’t listen.” He sighed and flopped down besides Gina.
She snuggled into his arm and his heart filled with warmth. True feelings. Gina didn’t pretend. She always said what she thought, whether he liked it or not. He grinned at the memory of her cursing and hitting him in the lobby.
“Thank goodness the heartless bitch couldn’t be faithful or you’d be married to her soon,” Gina said as her hand slid under his shirt to caress his abs.
Preston shuddered, “Don’t remind me. I only wish there was a way to let the public know what kind of person she really is. Then press would lose interest in you,” he stilled her hand and kissed her on the top of her head.
Then he told her about Sandrine’s interview on National TV and how she’d cried prettily for the press.
“This is your lucky day. I filmed her coming out.” Gina laughed and pulled out her phone.
“What? Let me see,” Preston said.
Gina turned on the video and together they replayed Sandrine’s temper tantrum and subsequent arrest.
“The last part makes it all worth it.” Gina set the phone down.
“I can’t believe you filmed that.” Preston shook his head.
“Believe it. You should send a copy to your publicist. They’re good at spinning things like this to help their clients out.”
Preston immediately shook his head, “No way. The fight
between Sandrine and me is private.”
“Preston, she has made it very public and if you don’t fight back, people will only believe what she tells them.”
Preston still wasn’t on board, “This is my private life we’re talking about. I’m not airing my dirty laundry for the world to see.”
“If you don’t someone else will. I bet there’s already a version of this on Facebook. You know, I wasn’t the only one filming.” Gina climbed on his lap and pierced him with her wonderful green eyes. He saw the desire rising in her eyes at the same pace of his own.
His heart squeezed. He needed to protect Gina. Sandrine had already tried to ruin her reputation and he couldn’t let that happen.
“Okay.”
“Okay, what?” Gina asked, her hands busy under his shirt, her core grinding against his hardening shaft.
“I’ll show the video to Monica, you little vixen,” he answered and stilled her hands once again. “First work, then play.”
Gina pouted, but climbed off his lap, leaving him hanging with a huge erection. With a glance to the bulge in his pants, she licked her lips and walked to her bedroom, sashaying her hips. When she reached the door, she glanced back over her shoulders, giving him clear view of her ass and her breasts.
“You call your publicist, and I’ll take a shower,” she said.
Damnit. How was he supposed to make a call after that announcement? Preston swallowed hard and then placed a call to Ornella.
“Hello, Ornella, can you come to my suite and bring Monica with you?”
“Sure. I just got off a call to her and she’ll arrive at the hotel at five p.m.”
Preston disconnected the call and glanced at his watch. Exactly twenty-seven minutes left. More than enough time. He grinned. That’s what you get for teasing me, little spitfire.
He stepped naked into the bathroom and found Gina in the shower, not the least surprised to see him.
