Chapter 5
The following morning Donovan rose bright and early. Signora Rossi was knocking on the door minutes after he’d stepped out of the shower, chattering a mile a minute. She’d pushed her way inside, armed with a plate of warm baked pastries, a pot of hot coffee and a basket of fresh fruit.
The conversation was very one-sided, although she chatted as if they were old friends. Every so often she would pause to look at him as if she expected an answer to something she’d said. A simple nod of his head and a smile with an occasional yes sent her back to talking without skipping a beat. Donovan found himself hoping that by the end of the year, he’d understand enough to hold a full conversation in Italian, or at least enough to know if he were promising the old woman his firstborn child.
After his stomach was full and his head clear, he watched as his new house mother commenced cleaning and sweeping behind him. With a wave of his hand, he wished her a good day and headed outside to meet the groundskeeper. His new friend handed him an old road map, a functioning GPS and the keys to an older model Fiat 500 parked in the driveway, a perk to his residency.
The drive to Siena and the university had been breathtaking. Donovan was quickly discovering that he loved everything about Italy. He was eager to play tourist and visit Rome. To see the Colosseum and the ruins, the Spanish Steps, the Vatican and the Sistine Chapel. Florence was also on his must-see list, and he wanted to lose himself in the stunning architecture.
As the GPS barked out a turn, guiding him closer to his destination, he suddenly found himself hopeful that Gianna might want to share in those experiences with him.
* * *
For a few brief moments Donovan stood outside the university, taking it all in. The building was massive, the old-world architecture like nothing he’d seen before. The magnitude of all his accomplishments that had brought him to this place suddenly rang through to his core as he understood the significance of the blessing that had been bestowed on him. He whispered a quick prayer, snapped a photo with his cell phone and texted a message to his mother.
Sophie was standing at the campus entrance, waiting to greet him. The head of the mathematics department, she was tall and lean like a racehorse with skin the color of dark mahogany. Her hair was shaved close, accentuating her chiseled features. She reminded him of the model Alek Wek, her exotic look distinct to her African lineage. She was an attractive woman who carried herself with refined grace. Her pleasant personality was endearing, and since their very first meeting, she’d been eager to learn from him and he’d found that flattering. More than anything, he considered her a friend and looked forward to the opportunity to work with her.
Sophie welcomed him warmly, eagerly wrapping him in a tight hug. She grabbed both his hands between her own. “Buongiorno! This is so exciting!” she exclaimed.
“Good morning, Sophie! How are you this morning?”
“I’m fantastic. How about yourself? Did you settle in comfortably?”
“I did. Everything is perfect.”
“That’s so good to hear. I was concerned. When you requested to be housed in Maremma, I had my doubts. Plus, I worried that the commute might be problematic.”
“Actually, the drive was delightful. I’m about an hour away, but it will give me a chance to prepare myself in the mornings and unwind in the evenings. But I like Maremma. It’s quiet where I am, and I like being away from the hustle and bustle of city life.”
She nodded. “Well, let me get you settled in and show you to your office.”
Leading the way, Sophie began by introducing him to the school’s director, Dr. Alistair Northway. He was a small man who spoke English as if he were spitting bullets after each word. At first glance, he reminded Donovan of a white Kevin Hart with flaming red hair and a toothy grin. As they shook hands, Donovan noticed that the man’s grip was Herculean. He felt as though he were trying to break his fingers. But his words were kind as he welcomed Donovan to his staff, lauding his many accomplishments and acknowledging the faith he had in what they’d all be able to accomplish for the good of his students.
In the school’s administrative offices, he’d been assigned a parking space, taken a photo for his identification badge and filled out more employment papers than he cared to count. After an hour, the names and faces had become a blur. He met most of the department chairs, a number of instructors and probably twice as many students.
Finally, he stood at the head of his lecture room, taking it all in. The space felt more like an old movie theater auditorium with upholstered velvet seats and antique finishes. His oversize desk and the chalkboard on the front wall kept the reality of the moment intact. As he leaned back against his desk, Donovan fought back hot tears that burned behind his eyelids. Loving to teach as much as he did made the experience all the sweeter. It was going to be a very good year.
* * *
Gianna’s cell phone rang just as she was packing an assortment of items into a large wicker basket. She answered on the third ring, propping the device between her ear and shoulder. “Ciao!”
“Gianna, hello! It’s Donovan.”
“Donovan, hello,” she answered, her tone rising. “How are you?”
“I’m really good, but I’ll be even better if you say you can still spend some time with me this afternoon.”
She laughed. “I think that can be arranged. What did you have in mind?”
“I wasn’t sure, to be honest with you. I thought maybe we could grab something to eat and you could give me a tour of the city?”
There was a pause as Gianna seemed to be reflecting on his proposition. “Are you still at the university?” she asked suddenly.
“Yes. I should be leaving here in about an hour, then it’s a good hour commute. I’ll just need to stop home and change.”
“Good. I’ll meet you when you get there,” she said. Then before he could respond, she disconnected the call, leaving Donovan hanging on the other end.
Carina laughed. “So, are you playing hard to get with Donovan, or easy breezy?”
Gianna tossed her sister a look. “I’m not playing anything with the man. Not yet anyway!”
Carina giggled again. “Oh, you’re up to something. I don’t know what it is, but I know you.”
Gianna grinned. “Maybe I am, and maybe I’m not. We’ll just have to see.”
“Poor Donovan,” Carina said, shaking her head. “He doesn’t have a clue what’s about to hit him!”
Gianna laughed with her sister, not bothering to respond to the comment. “I have someplace to be,” she said as she grabbed the handles of her picnic basket and headed toward the door.
Carina waved goodbye. “Tell Donovan I said hello!”
* * *
As Donovan moved to the door of his new home, his landlady poked her head out of her own entrance. Her gaze was narrowed, her jaw tight as she gnashed her teeth together. He instinctively knew she wasn’t happy about something.
“Ciao! Signora Rossi!” He raised a hand in greeting.
He was suddenly reminded of a bird cackling nonstop as she berated him about something, her index finger wagging as frantically as her tongue. Before he could think to respond, his own door flew open and Gianna stepped outside. Both women were suddenly in heated conversation, hands waving excitedly to make a point.
Gianna suddenly said something that gave Signora Rossi reason to pause. The older woman stood staring for just a brief moment, and then she burst out laughing. When Gianna laughed with her, Donovan sighed with relief, thankful that whatever had been amiss between the two women hadn’t brought them to blows.
He looked from one to the other as their conversation continued, tones lowered and amusement dancing in their words. “Do I even want to know?” Donovan asked after Signora Rossi waved her finger at him one last time before going back into her home, leaving
the two of them alone.
Gianna smiled. “She’s worried about your virtue. Afraid that I may take advantage and sully your upstanding reputation.”
He laughed with her. “Is there something about you I need to know?” he asked.
She laughed with him. “I guess that depends on who you ask!”
“Should I be scared?”
Ignoring his question, Gianna turned an about-face and moved back into his home.
Donovan followed behind her. As he moved through the door he came to an abrupt halt, his eyes skating back and forth over the space inside. “When did you...? How did this...?” he stammered, fighting to focus and find the words to ask the thoughts suddenly racing through his head.
When he’d left that morning, the sun had been on the other side of the small unit, yet to stream brightly through his windows. Signora Rossi had been sweeping the tile floors with one hand and dusting the wood furniture with the other. His suitcases had rested on the pullout sofa in the room, waiting to be unpacked. And the whole space lacked the personal touches that would eventually make it feel like a home.
But since he’d been gone, the entire room had been transformed. The windows were all open, a warm breeze billowing through the space. Light was abundant, bright and sweeping from one wall to the other. Fresh flowers had been strategically placed, and a potted cactus rested on the kitchen counter. There was a tablecloth on the kitchen table and appliances on the counter in the small kitchenette. Beautifully woven throws decorated the sofa and chairs, with complementary pillows adorning the corners. And the framed photos that had been in his luggage were placed strategically around the room, with the photo of him and his parents sitting front and center on a bookcase.
“Wow!” he exclaimed as he moved farther into the room. “Wow!” He tossed her a quick look as he spun around in a circle, taking it all in.
“All your clothes are unpacked, and there are extra linens in the closet. I know you like to eat clean so there’s a blender and a juicer, and the icebox is fully stocked with fresh fruit and vegetables. I told Signora Rossi that she needs to replace the lightbulbs in the bathroom. They really do need to be brighter, and she said she’d have someone take care of it while we’re gone.” Gianna paused to take a breath. “Now, I hope you haven’t had anything to eat because I packed us a picnic lunch.”
Donovan rested his gaze on her face. She wore no makeup, her warm complexion crystal clear, her hair pulled back into a loose bun. She was glowing, looking like a freshly minted penny. She stood in denim shorts and a Bob Marley T-shirt, and if Donovan were a betting man, he would have bet his last dollar that she wasn’t wearing a bra, her breasts at full attention beneath her top. He struggled not to stare at her chest.
Gianna broke the trance he’d fallen into. “You should change. Something casual. I left your jeans and a black T-shirt on the bed for you.”
He smiled. “Are you always so...?”
“Controlling?”
“Efficient.”
She smiled back. “Efficient...no. Controlling...yes!”
He nodded, still eyeing her as she pointed him in the direction of his bedroom.
Stepping into the room, he closed the door behind him. The bedding was new, an assortment of pillows leaning against the wicker headboard. A stack of books rested on the nightstand. The titles made him smile. There was an advanced reading copy of Gianna’s next book, a Fodor’s travel guide for Italy, a children’s book by Shel Silverstein and an official King James Bible. But the single greatest surprise was the framed photograph of Gianna, an image of her standing between rows of olive trees. She wore a white dress that complemented her warm complexion, and her smile was sweet, a hint of mischief dancing in her eyes.
As Donovan rested the frame back on the nightstand, he couldn’t help but think that Gianna had officially laid claim to her territory. A huge grin filled his dark face—he was happy to have been claimed. He was overwhelmed with everything she’d done, amazed by the effort she’d put forth on his behalf. No woman had ever done anything like that for him before. Ever.
Minutes later the two were headed inland to Mount Amiata, the largest of the lava domes in the area. Their conversation was easy, a comfortable exchange that felt like they’d been conversing forever. Donovan told her about his day and his excitement over his teaching job. She explained the inspection process that allowed the winery to remain operational and how the periodic scrutiny always gave her anxiety. They talked about books, hers, topping bestseller lists worldwide, and his, the mathematical publications preeminent only in educational circles. And they laughed, abundantly, the richness of it like the sweetest balm in the afternoon air.
He asked questions about where they were and where they were going, and Gianna infused the geography lesson with history and anecdotes. She described the area as one of the regions most unmarred by its inhabitants. The beaches were pristine, the umbrella-shaped maritime pines unique and the cork-oak woodlands abundant. As they passed another wine estate near Orbetello, he was in awe of the spotted pink flamingos that grazed in a lagoon.
In Amiata they moved from the car to the trails, hiking through the luxuriant trees. Donovan was dazzled by the wealth of color that decorated the landscape. He suddenly wished he could paint, that he was able to capture the striking images in an organic manner. Speaking his wish aloud had Gianna encouraging him to step out of his comfort zone to try things he’d never tried before.
“If that’s what you want to do, then you should, Donovan,” she said. “People are always waiting until the perfect time, or the right moment to do things. But life is too short to put off things you want to do. No one’s promised you tomorrow.”
He nodded his agreement, although his expression seemed to say that he was still mulling it over.
“So do you plan to start painting while you are here in Italy?” she asked as they continued to navigate the trails.
He shrugged, his eyes wide as he stared at her. “I’ll do it,” he said, a wry smile pulling at his lips. “Soon.”
She laughed at him. “You are too funny!”
“You know I have to analyze everything, Gianna. Weigh all the pros and cons. I need to be certain before I commit to something.”
“Or miss out on opportunities because you take too long doing all that thinking!”
Donovan chuckled softly. “I really am not that bad.”
“Maybe not, but you need to be more spontaneous. You and I will work on that while you are here.”
He smiled as she turned off the path and headed through the trees. He trailed behind her, following where she led. Minutes later Gianna found a perfect spot for them to picnic, and set to work covering the ground with an oversize blanket. She gestured for him to take a seat, and when he did she pulled off his shoes and socks and tossed them aside. As he wiggled his toes, he watched as she stood and kicked off her own shoes before taking a seat beside him.
Inside the picnic basket she’d made him carry, she had packed a light afternoon meal. There was an assortment of cheeses, salami, olives, two loaves of fresh bread, an assortment of fresh fruit, a bottle of her father’s wine and two wine goblets.
“Do you come here often?” he asked as he took a bite of a creamy Asiago cheese.
“Not nearly as often as I’d like,” she answered. “I love this area, though. Next to my father’s vineyards, it’s one of my favorite places.” She tore off a bite of bread and popped it into her mouth.
A blanket of quiet dropped around them as they sat focused on the meal. Neither spoke, both seeming to drop into their own thoughts. In the distance a voice called out, someone besieging a friend not to hurry so fast. Between the trees, they caught a glimpse of denim-covered legs and a small dog on the end of a leash. They both paused to stare at the same time, watching the small terrier race to get to someone ahead of them.
Donovan shifted his gaze to her face, noting the color that had risen to her cheeks. She smiled, and he felt his stomach do a slight flip. He cleared his throat, suddenly feeling nervous for no reason at all.
“What?” Gianna asked suddenly.
“What do you mean what?”
“What are you staring at me like that for?”
“I wasn’t staring at you.”
“Yes, you were!”
“Well, if I was it’s only because you’re so beautiful.”
Gianna rolled her eyes. She reached for a grape and pulled it to her mouth, not bothering to respond.
Donovan cleared his throat. “I wrote once and asked if you were in a relationship, and you didn’t respond. Was there a reason?”
She met the look he was giving her, curiosity furrowing his brow. She shook her head. “I’m sure I answered.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“I’m sure I did.”
He pursed his lips, then pulled them into a deep smile. “Stop ignoring the question, Gianna. Are you seeing someone?”
She laughed. “I wasn’t ignoring the question! But to give you an answer, no, I’m not. Are you?”
He hesitated for a brief second. “Well...actually...” His gaze skated off into the distance.
Gianna bristled ever so slightly, sitting straighter as she folded her extended legs behind her. She shifted forward as if readying herself to stand and leave. “Actually what? You wrote that you weren’t dating anyone,” she said, an air of attitude in her tone. “I distinctly remember reading that. So was that a lie?”
A wide grin spread full across Donovan’s face. “Gotcha!”
She narrowed her gaze, not at all amused.
“I was joking!” Donovan exclaimed. “You told me I needed to loosen up and stop taking things so seriously. So why are you mad?”
She shook her head. “I’m not mad. I just didn’t find your little joke funny.”
He laughed heartily. “Gianna Martelli has a little bit of a jealous streak,” he teased.
Tuscan Heat Page 6
