Rosa’s words warm my heart, and this time when I smile, it’s genuine.
“Thank you. It has been strange. But you’ve all welcomed me into your home, so I feel as though I’ve always lived here. It’s made it much easier than it otherwise might’ve been.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Rosa says with a smile.
“Well,” Stefano says. “According to the weather forecasts, we’ve two days of good weather, before the rains hit on Saturday. I’d like us to start earlier tomorrow and Friday, and finish a little later if we can, to get in as many olives as we can. It’s due to be a good downpour, and if the forecast is right we’ll have at least three days of pressing before we can get back out into the harvest.”
“We have some hard days’ work ahead of us, then.” Giovanni says.
“We should keep the girls home from their schooling,” Alessandro says to Anna.
The girls cheer, and Alessandro holds his hands up to silence them.
“Just for the next two days. Next week you will be back to school as normal.”
“Oh.” They complain in unison too, and the whole family laughs.
“Off to bed then,” Alessandro says, as they finish eating. “If you’re not going to school, you’ll need to be up extra early for the harvest.”
The girls take their plates to the kitchen, and scurry off down the hall, Alessandro following close behind.
Anna pushes her chair back. “Savannah, will you help me with the dishes?”
“Oh, of course.” I push my own chair back, almost too fast, sending it toppling, though Marco catches it before it hits the ground.
“Too keen, Savannah!” he says with a laugh. “It’s only the dishes, nothing exciting here.”
I blush, and he smiles. “Your help is very much appreciated.”
That warmth in my chest and groin is still lingering from my conversation with Stefano, and now looking into Marco’s eyes I feel it stirring again. I look away quickly, picking up my plate and carrying it to the kitchen, where Anna has already disappeared.
Stefano may have realized finally that I’m an adult, but right now I feel like a silly little sixteen-year-old with her first crush. Isn’t this supposed to vanish when a person becomes an adult? Where is the classy, sophisticated woman I always expected I’d turn into eventually.
Certainly not here.
In the kitchen, Anna has already filled up the sink with hot soapy water.
“Would you like to wash, or dry?”
It’s been so long since I’ve had to do either task, I’m stumped for a moment.
“Uh, I’ll dry.”
“Very good.” She takes a tea towel from a drawer and hands it to me, turning back to the sink to start washing the glasses.
Behind us Rosa comes in, and we can hear the men all chatting out in the dining room.
“A coffee?” Rosa asks, pulling out a percolator.
“Oh, thank you, Mamma,” Anna says. “I’d love one.”
“Sure, thank you.” I pick up the glass, dry it, and look around, trying to remember where I saw the glasses when I helped cook earlier in the week.
“Over here,” Rosa points to a draw, and I put the clean dry glass away.
Soon the kitchen is filled with the scent of freshly brewed coffee, and I inhale, closing my eyes to savor the scent.
“It’s good isn’t it? Anna laughs.
Rosa begins to pour.
“Weak for you, Savannah?”
I nod. “Thank you.”
“Just like Anna has it,” Rosa says with a smile.
I frown. “Marco told me all Italians like strong coffee.”
Anna laughs. “All Italians are not one person are they? What if I said to you, all Americans are loud and arrogant?”
That stings, and she must see it in my face. She laughs. “See. Stereotypes are no good for anyone. All people are different, all over the world. And people from different places can be very much the same, eh? Like you and me. Not happy to follow our father’s advice, always wanting to find our own way in the world.”
I smile. “I guess so.”
She leans in close, almost conspiratorially. “And let’s face it. Our fathers mean well, they have our best interests at heart, but they are not always aware of all the options we have for our future. Only we can know our heart’s desire, and follow it.”
I grin. “It’s so nice to hear someone else confirm that,” I say.
We finish the dishes, Anna and Rosa helping me put away the last of them.
“Ah, men.” Rosa hands us our coffee cups. “They mean well. They think they rule the world, but we all know the real rulers of the world are the women, all in the background, running things. The only time we have a problem is when the men get an idea in their head and think they need to ignore what their wife has told them.”
She laughs, then winks at me. “My Giovanni, he is wonderful, and I would never ever consider life without him, but sometimes...” She shakes her head, then laughs again.
I yawn, covering my mouth with my hand.
“Ah, dear girl,” Rosa says. “We have kept you up late. And with an early start tomorrow, too.” She takes my cup, which is not quite finished, and ushers me out the door. “Get some sleep. It’ll be work, work, work, till Saturday night, and then it’ll be time to party till the small hours of the morning. You’ll want as much sleep as you can get.”
Back at Stefano and Marco’s home the house is quiet, and I guess the brothers have already gone to bed. I make my way quietly through the house to my room.
There’s an envelope on my bed, ‘Savannah’ written across it in a beautiful cursive scrawl.
I pick it up. It’s thin. Not wads of money then, not that that would be much use to me here, anyway.
There’s something solid inside, and I open it up, tilting it to slide the contents onto my hand.
There’s a bank card, with my name imprinted on the front, and a note.
You want to call your friends, and your family, and to do that you’ll need international roaming, which you can set up on your phone. I thought it might be easier to set you up your own account, so you can pay for whatever you need, whenever you need. Below are the instructions for the English version of the bank’s online banking website, so you can log on and check balances and what not. And your first week’s allowance has been deposited, in full.
You are an independent adult, Savannah, and I apologize for treating you otherwise.
Stefano.
My heart is racing, as I get onto my phone and follow Stefano’s instructions to check my bank account, but when I look at the figures, my heart sinks.
There’s less money than there should be. Is my father giving Stefano less money, or is Stefano not passing it all on, like he says?
My eyes roam over the figures on the screen, trying to fix it. And then I realize. It’s not in American currency, it’s in Euro. I do a search to compare currency values, and am so relieved when the figures that come back match those in my bank.
Phew!
I feel I can trust Stefano, but this is not something I’d want to question either him or my father about.
I then go to my phone’s app to update my phone so I can make international calls, but I hesitate. If I set this up now, then all those other messages will go through, and I’ll be up all night with texts.
I plug the phone into the charger, and leave it to sit on the bedside table.
I have to be up early for work tomorrow, better to wait until I have a bit of spare time.
When my alarm goes off the next morning the room is black. I’m so tired, but I drag myself up and into the shower, setting a timer for five minutes so I don’t just doze under the warm spray.
I pull on some clothes, jolting when I see that actually, these are my last lot of clean clothes in the bag, and all my previous dirty clothes are still spread across the floor exactly where I’ve left them over the last few days.
Another chore I haven’t
even thought about, because at home our cleaner deals with all of that.
I’ll have to ask Marco where their washing machine is, and hope it’s not that hard to use.
No time for that now though, there’s a knock on my door.
I open it, to a very surprised Marco.
“You’re up!”
“I am,” I say, giving him a smile. “I’m not sure I’m fully awake yet, but I’m up.”
We venture to the kitchen where Stefano greets me with a huge smile.
“Ah. Progress! We’ll have to get you cooking next. You need to get up at least fifteen minutes earlier than everyone else to be ready in time.”
I nod. “I’m sure I can manage that.”
Stefano laughs. “I’m sure you can. But I won’t make you do that on these early starts. Best to ease you into things, I’ve learnt.”
I smile. If I’m honest with myself, I almost think being thrown into the deep end probably teaches me faster, even if the process is significantly more painful for everyone involved.
I’m not sure I want to admit that to Stefano yet.
We sit together to eat, Marco teasing Stefano about something he did when he was in his early twenties.
“You make me sound ancient,” Stefano says. “It wasn’t that long ago.”
“Further for you than me,” Marco says with a laugh.
“Only by a couple of years.”
Stefano glances at me. “Everyone does foolish things when they’re young,” he says. “The world is so new and exciting, and for the first time in your life you are actually free to make your own choices. Don’t you find Savannah?”
“Me?” I shake my head. “My parents are still making choices for me. Giving me ultimatums.”
“Ah, that’s right. We had that conversation, didn’t we?”
“But you must have some freedoms,” Marco interrupts. “Like, hanging out with friends.”
I shrug. “I guess so. I mean, we choose our own fun, that’s for sure, but Dad has been so focused on me graduating from college, that it’s rather taken over most of my spare time with study. It’s been such a drag.”
“But you have a boyfriend, surely? A beautiful, intelligent woman like yourself?” Stefano is watching me, his gaze intense, and my cheeks begin to burn. I look away and shrug.
“I’ve had boyfriends, of course. But nothing special. Nothing worth a long distance relationship, that’s for sure. And nothing recently.”
“No boyfriends?” Stefano seems shocked. “But you’d have regular hook-ups, when you’re out partying?”
I shake my head again. “My friends and I tend to keep together pretty well. I don’t really hook up with other guys.”
“We’re embarrassing her,” Marco says, shaking his head at his brother. He looks at me. “I’m sorry for bringing it up, Savannah.”
I shrug again. “It’s fine. I’ve just never really had the opportunity to meet anyone, that’s all, not anything that turned out to be serious, anyway.”
“So you’ve never been wooed? Properly, I mean? With flowers and chocolates and gifts and songs and dinners.”
I raise a brow. “I don’t think people do that anymore. I mean, my friend Amari’s ex-boyfriend used to bring her flowers occasionally, but I don’t know anyone who bothers with gifts or dinners these days. Maybe a movie, but nothing more than that.”
“What? What do you young people do?”
“Hang out together, go swimming or something, go to parties. That sort of thing.”
“I do feel old,” Stefano says, shaking his head. “What has happened to the world? It’s inconceivable.”
I suddenly wish I could be wooed by a man. Particularly a tall dark man with an Italian accent. And I wouldn’t at all be concerned which tall dark Italian man it was, as long as it was one of the two sitting across the table from me.
I blush again at the thought.
Marco laughs, and I glance up to see him watching me.
“What are you thinking, that makes you blush so?”
“Nothing.” I shake my head.
He tilts his head to one side, and raises a brow. “Nothing? I think it must be something? You want to be wooed? I don’t blame you. I wonder about the manliness of some of these American men, that they cannot even be bothered to put the effort in to win over their woman, and to keep her.”
I’m blushing again, but now the jeep horn is beeping.
“Ah, we’ve kept you late this morning!” Stefano says, pushing his chair back, and gathering up the dishes to rinse them in the sink. “That is a nice change, no?”
We hurry outside, everyone greeting each other and chatting as usual. But I can’t focus on the conversation. My insides are all a whirl. What is this? Asking me about boyfriends, and discussing relationships, and the proper way to ‘woo’ someone.
I glance up to see Marco watching me, and soft smile on his lips, and then I realize Stefano is watching me, too, a very similar expression on his face.
I force my gaze out the window to watch the passing trees. I must be reading something into this, surely. I’m thirteen years younger than Marco, fifteen years younger than Stefano. As if they’d be attracted to me. And if they are, how could I possibly choose one of them, without upsetting the other?
I close my eyes, and take a deep breath. I have to ignore those thoughts, and focus on what I am here to do. Pick olives, make olive oil, help with chores. I’m not entirely sure what those chores will be, once the main harvest season is over. Will I have to plant olives trees? Or prune them? I have no idea. What I do know is that I have to focus for the next eleven months and three weeks. Pick olives, make olive oil, help with chores. And most importantly ignore my libido, and the buzzing in my chest every time either of the brothers looks at me. I can do that. Surely. Hard work, cold showers.
I can do it.
Chapter 7
For the first time, the day goes by in a rush.
Despite my promise to myself, I can’t help but sneak glances at both Marco and Stefano during the day, admiring their strong physique, and the way their bodies move. Too often, I catch them looking at me, an intensity in their eyes that makes me shiver.
If this was a guy in a club looking at me this way I’d scull my drink and head over for a chat, if he didn’t make moves on me first. But here? Here I should definitely wait for one of them to make the first move.
My whole body feels like it’s on fire. I’m so certain they’re attracted to me. But I can’t be the one to pick one and not the other.
I turn back to my task, close my eyes, and take a breath. I’ve got to think about something else.
But the repetitive movements of raking the olives off the trees does not really take a lot of focus, and before long my mind is wandering again.
For the first time, I don’t want the day to end. Far better for us to be working, alongside each other, sure, but focused on our own tree, than at the house, sitting around the table, where I am seated next to Marco, and my arm often brushes against his, or in the brother’s small home where I’m aware they are only a few feet away.
But dusk comes, and the family pack up, and pile into the jeep for the return journey. We stack the crates of olives, and I make small talk as I help Marco and Stefano clean up.
I make it through dinner, trying to act as naturally as possible, while also trying not to bump my elbow against Marco. As it is I’m seem to be extra aware of his presence tonight, of the warmth radiating from his body, and the way he keeps looking at me.
Then again, I avoid looking at him except when he is speaking, and only watch him out of the corner of my eye. Maybe he’s not looking at me, but at others around and opposite me.
By the time I get back to my room I’m a mess of nerves. There’s only one way to deal with this, I pick up my phone, sort out the international roaming, and message my friends.
My phone dings with dozens of unreceived messages, that start out friendly, like Amaya’s.
Have
a good flight. Don’t forget to take some photos of any hot male air hosties for me!
But they soon descend into worry.
Jace: Savannah - why aren’t you responding to our messages? Brylee has been scanning the news for a plane crash, but there isn’t any. I hope you haven’t been kidnapped!!
By the time I’ve read through the flurry of messages, my phone dings again, this time in response to my message.
It’s Brylee, and I almost cry I’m so relieved to hear from her.
Savannah! WHERE have you been, we’ve been worried sick!
I type back. So apparently you need international roaming to send texts between countries? And Dad didn’t set mine up, and I’ve had no money till now. :( But it’s all fixed, and I’m here, and I’m safe. So good to hear from you! I miss you all so much!
Neveah responds next. You realize you could’ve hooked up to Wi-Fi at the airport or something and sent us a message then? And surely where you’re staying has Wi-Fi?
I feel the blood drain out of my face. How daft of me not to remember that!
I was pretty stressed out by the whole situation! I reply. Not exactly thinking clearly at the time.
Obviously. Jace’s message comes back. But good to hear from you Savannah! How’s it going over there?
I sink back onto the bed as I tell them all what’s been happening, leaving out the part where Stefano was a complete asshole, as well as the part where I may be a teensy bit attracted to both the brothers. No one needs to hear that, and if by some chance either Marco or Stefano were to see these messages I’d be so embarrassed.
Send some photos of these brothers. Brylee demands. I want to see what they look like!
I laugh out loud, all the emotions of the last few days bubbling up and out of me.
Alright, tomorrow. I promise. But now I have to go to bed. Got to be up early in the morning!
I undo my pants, letting them slide down my legs to land in a heap on the floor. That’s when I see yesterday’s pants, also in a heap on the floor, and realize that I haven’t actually done any washing yet.
Her Double Punishment Page 9
