Dante’s Girl

by Cole , Courtney

  “Apparently, I’m allergic to jellyfish,” I answer. “And I would love to hang out with you while I’m here. I’ll be staying until the airports open back up. They’re closed right now due to the volcanic ash.”

  “I know!” she gushes as she returns her attention to Dante. “Did you know that Michel is stranded in London? He’s furious because he’ll probably miss the Regatta. He’s got a new boat this year and everything.”

  She and Dante talk about that for a few minutes, about this important annual boat race that is apparently a big deal thing here in Caberra, and I have been forgotten. I stand there awkwardly with my freakish leg throbbing until finally Dante looks at me as if he suddenly remembers my presence.

  “Oh, god. I’m sorry, Reece. I forgot my manners. We really need to get you back to the palace. I want you to lie down for awhile and I’ll get the doctor to look at you.” He turns to Elena. “We’ll catch up soon, Leni.”

  He calls her Leni. I am instantly and ridiculously resentful of that.

  “There’s a bonfire tonight,” Leni tells him as she watches him take my arm. “Will you be there?”

  He glances at me, then back at Leni. “Maybe. We’ll see how it goes.”

  “Don’t keep me waiting, D,” she warns playfully. “You know how I hate that.”

  And I hate that she calls him D.

  I’ve known her all of five minutes and I already hate this girl because she’s known Dante longer. He’s D and she’s Leni. Plus, she’s perfect. I hate that too. And hating that makes me petty, which of course I hate also. I’m just downright hateful today, apparently.

  Dante smiles at Elena and we walk away. I know that if I turn around, I’ll see her watching us. I can feel her emerald green eyes staring a hole into my back. She is not one to be messed with. I know that, too.

  Chapter Seven

  “Mom, I swear to you, I’m fine,” I insist once again into the phone. “It’s just a jellyfish sting. It’s not like my leg was amputated or anything. Apparently, it’s a common thing around the ocean. I had a slight allergic reaction, but I’m all fixed up. The doctor gave me a shot of cortisone and it’s not even swollen anymore, it just has red patches.”

  I look down at my splotch-covered legs and know that I look like I had been on the losing end of a jellyfish tentacle, which of course, is exactly the case.

  Also, the cortisone shot hurt like a wench.

  But I don’t mention that part.

  My mother is already wound up enough. She’s not happy that I’m here. She’s happy enough that I’m getting exposure to culture and all, but she wishes that I’d get that exposure in a country that she’s actually heard of before. And somewhere that isn’t thousands of miles from home.

  I listen to her motherly concern and nagging for the next ten minutes as I stare absently out of my bedroom window. I am situated at the back of the house over the tennis courts. I can see a sparkling blue pool to my right and pristine gardens to my left. The tennis courts are in the center.

  There are rose bushes everywhere. And peonies, which are my favorites. And lots of white marble statues of Greek gods. And one of Napoleon. Why in the world is this country so obsessed with Napoleon?

  I am just wondering if the small statue is life-sized when Dante interrupts any coherent thought process that I might have by striding across the lawns with a racquet in hand and wearing short-short tennis shorts.

  Sweet.

  Baby.

  Monkeys.

  It’s like a slow-motion scene from a movie. Dante shakes his blond bangs out of his eyes and the sun catches every glint of gold in his hair. His legs are long, lean, tanned and muscled and HolyCowThereIsAGod. If I were a man, I would totally be wolf-whistling right now. But then again, if I were a man, I guess I wouldn’t be wolf-whistling at Dante.

  I’m such a weirdo.

  “Reece Elizabeth Ellis, are you listening to me?” my mother demands from the other end of the phone.

  Um, no. I hadn’t been. I have no idea what she said. In fact, I had forgotten that she was even on the phone at all. Dante’s short-short shorts are to blame.

  “Of course I am,” I answer as I push the curtains back so that I can see Dante better.

  Stalk, much?

  I ignore the voice in my head and the voice in the phone and concentrate on Dante. I don’t know who he is playing with. It must be one of his friends, because the boy appears to be our age, too. But the strange boy doesn’t hold my attention. He’s totally eclipsed by Dante and I don’t feel bad about that because the strange boy probably used to it.

  Dante serves the ball and it whizzes past the other boy like a comet.

  Dante laughs and the other boy scowls as he positions himself to return Dante’s next serve. Dante fakes him out and laughs as the boy swings at the air. I am reminded of a Labrador when you throw a ball, then fake it and the dog still runs to get it.

  Dante laughs again and then serves for real. It whizzes past the boy’s head again. The boy throws his racquet and Dante rolls his eyes. As he does, he catches sight of me watching. I duck behind the curtain.

  “I’ve gotta go mom,” I say quietly. “I’ll talk to you later. Love you, too.”

  After a moment, I peek carefully out the window again and Dante is waiting for me, standing in the middle of the tennis courts, waving cheerfully at me. He totally knew that I was watching and he waited to catch me fair and square. Nice.

  Dante: One. Reece: Zero.

  I smile at him and wave, and he motions for me to come down.

  My heart goes pitty-pat again and I glance down at myself.

  I’m wearing the same shorts and shirt that I was wearing earlier because I have nothing else to wear. I’d only packed one extra outfit in my carryon. And I’m thankful for that much. My mom insisted that I do so in case my flight was delayed or my bags were lost and I’d thought it was stupid, but apparently she knew what she was talking about. I make a mental note to thank her. But I’m definitely not pointing out that she was right. That would set a dangerous precedent.

  But for now, I cautiously make my way down the stairs and toward the back doors of the Old Palace to find Dante. I am still amazed and in awe of this house. Palace. Mansion. Capitol. Whatever you want to call it. It’s crazy big and crazy gorgeous. And it has a staff. One of them, a maid dressed in an honest-to-god black and white maid uniform looks at me and smiles.

  “May I get you anything, miss?” she asks. I shake my head.

  “I’m just hunting for the back doors,” I admit to her. “I’m afraid I’m a little turned around.”

  She laughs and I realize that she’s not much older than I am.

  “That’s okay,” she tells me. “This is a big place. I couldn’t find my way for weeks after I started working here. Go down that hallway there and then it will open up into a huge room. There will be a glass wall of windows and doors and just pick a door. They all open up to the outside.”

  “How old are you?” I ask curiously. She looks taken aback for a moment and I apologize. “I’m sorry. I’m American. I guess we don’t have much tact. Or that’s what I’m told anyway.”

  She laughs. “No, you’re fine. I’m sixteen. I work here in the evenings during the school year and full-time during the summer.”

  That makes sense. A full-time summer job. That’s perfectly normal for a teenager. It allays my fears that Caberra has hideous or non-existent child labor laws.

  I stretch out a hand.

  “I’m Reece,” I offer. “I’m staying here for a little while until the airports open up.”

  “I know,” she tells me as she shakes my hand. “I know who you are. I’m Heaven. I work here. And I’m probably not supposed to be socializing with you right now.”

  “Oh.” I feel deflated. She had the potential of being a friend. And honestly, I could use a friend. I’m thousands of miles from home and my BFF Becca.

  “It’s okay,” she assures me. “I’m not going to get into trouble. Don�
��t worry about it.”

  “Hey, how did you know who I am?”

  Because it just hits me what she said. I know who you are.

  She smiles again. “Everyone knows who you are. Or, at least what you look like.” She pulls her phone out of her pocket and punches at it, then turns it to me.

  A picture of Dante and me from this morning, pre-jellyfish sting, stares at me from the screen. The caption screams, “Is Caberra’s Favorite Prince in Love?”

  “Prince?” I ask dumbly as I stare in shock at the picture. “This was from this morning. How did they get it posted so fast?” I look closer at the website. It looks to be a gossip website. Oh, sweet Lord.

  “Oh, that’s just how the media refers to Mr. Giliberti,” Heaven answers. “And pretty much everyone else does too, I guess. He’s not actually a prince, but he might as well be.”

  I gulp and take a moment to center myself.

  I am in a beautiful place with a beautiful boy who just happens to almost be a prince. No big deal.

  “Reece?”

  Speak of the Princely Devil himself.

  Dante’s husky voice fills the room we’re standing in and as I turn, I find him filling the doorway too. He’s sweaty and hot, in more ways than one, and I smile weakly.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell him as he crosses the room. He’s wearing a white tank top that perfectly shows off his bulging biceps. “I got turned around. Heaven here was just showing me the way outside.”

  Dante glances down at Heaven, who is hastily shoving her cell phone back into her apron pocket. He acts like he’s never seen her before and he gives her a polite smile.

  “Thank you, Heaven,” he bows dramatically. She blushes and he stands upright again. “You might have saved poor Ms. Ellis’ life. She isn’t known for her directional prowess.”

  “What?” I demand in mock agitation. “You have no way of knowing that. It’s an unfounded rumor.”

  He cocks a golden eyebrow.

  “Really? You forget that I was on the beach with you this morning. After we got onto the beach, you couldn’t tell north from south.”

  “That might be true,” I acknowledged. “But I do know right from left. And you have to cut me some slack. I’m new here.”

  “True,” he concedes. “But I have a feeling that it wouldn’t be much better even if you weren’t.” He laughs as I swat at him.

  “Would you like to come meet my friends?”

  He has a hopeful tone in his voice that makes him seem like a little boy, which immediately penetrates my soft spot. I’m a sucker for big strong guys who have a gentle side.

  “Sure,” I nod. “I saw you playing tennis with one of them.”

  “Is that what you call it? Playing?” he grins cockily. “I call it annihilation.”

  “Really?” I laugh. “Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

  He laughs too as he holds the door open for me.

  “I have to be,” he confides to me softly as he passes by. “If I’m not, the public will sense it on me and descend like a pack of wild wolverines.”

  He winks and then leads me to where two boys and a girl are sitting by the pool sipping what looks to be lemonade. The dark haired boy who was playing tennis is there, as well as a black-haired girl and another blond boy. Neither boy is as good looking as Dante. But that’s probably not a fair thing to say. No one is as good-looking as Dante. I’ve come to peace with that fact and they probably have too.

  “Guys,” Dante says easily. “I want you to meet Reece Ellis. She’s my houseguest for a while.”

  The boys look up and the girl appraises me quietly. She seems friendly, not cat-like like Elena. Her face is sincere and open and I sense that she could be friend material.

  “Reece,” Dante continues. “This is Gavin, Nate and Mia. We’ve known each other since kindergarten. In a nutshell, Gavin is our resident Casanova, Nate is the smart-ass one and Mia is the sweet, talk-your-ear-off one.”

  “And which one are you?” Nate scowls mockingly.

  “I’m the good looking and charming one, obviously,” Dante jokes. Only it’s not a joke. He really is.

  I smile and wave at the group. “It’s really nice to meet you.”

  Gavin leaps to his feet and circles the table, grabbing my hand and kissing it. “The pleasure is mine,” he purrs. “You’re every bit as beautiful as your pictures, mademoiselle.”

  He’s not French so it’s pretty funny. But my heart still plummets. Even they have seen the stupid pictures? Has everyone?

  Dante sees my expression and rushes to assure me.

  “Reece, seriously, I’m sorry. It’s just a part of my life- the press loves to speculate. But it will blow over, I promise. And they didn’t use your name.”

  “Yeah, because they don’t have it yet,” Mia mumbles. She stands up and leans over to hug me. “It will be fine,” she assures me also. “Those stupid gossip sites are piranhas, but Dante is right. They have very short attentions spans. They’ll forget about you soon enough- once you go home, for sure. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, too,” I murmur. The last boy, Nate, stares unabashedly from the table. He doesn’t stand up and his eyes seem sort of cold. He’s got white blond hair and ice blue eyes. He doesn’t seem friendly. At all.

  “You’re pretty skinny for an American,” he observes. No smile.

  “You’re pretty rude for a Caberran,” I answer. No smile. And that’s hard for me because I’m usually pretty smiley.

  “Oh, snap!” Gavin crows. He laughs and shoves Nate’s arm, while Dante scowls.

  “Behave yourself,” Dante instructs Nate. “I mean it.”

  What the hell? What had I done to Nate? I hadn’t even had time to offend him yet. Yet, apparently I had. Even I’m not fast enough to stick my foot in my mouth that quickly.

  “It’s alright,” Dante tells me. “Nate had a bad experience in America when he was there last. He’s not a fan.”

  “Oh?”I raise an eyebrow. “I thought you said Caberra loves Americans. Or, our tourist dollars, anyway.”

  Dante smiled graciously. “I said I love Americans. I think most Caberrans do. Nate just had a bad experience.”

  “Really?” I turn toward Nate, determined to try one more time. “What happened? Pick-pocket in New York? Rude people on the subway?”

  “Girl problems,” Mia told me. “He dated a true wench. She only wanted his money and a free vacation to Caberra.”

  “Oh.” I felt red stain my cheeks. I should have known. Relationship troubles seem to be the root of all evil. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” Nate says stiltedly as he pushed away from the table. “It’s just been my experience that American girls are all the same: self-entitled, arrogant and complete bitches.”

  I stare at him, dumb-founded. “I don’t know what to say to that,” I admit.

  “Say nothing,” Gavin advises. “He’s just being a dick.”

  Nate glares at him before stalking off. Dante follows him and I watch as they seem to have a few heated words by the edge of the pool. Dante sticks his finger in Nate’s face and Nate’s scowl seems glued into place.

  “What’s his deal?” I ask Mia. “Did he really get burned that badly?”

  She nods. “Uh-huh. The girl was a cold-hearted wench. I know that all American girls aren’t that way. But Nate can’t seem to get it through his thick, pale head. And truly, he’s just kind of a dick in general. He’s never happy.”

  I watch as Nate stalks away and Dante returns to the group. He doesn’t even seem flustered.

  “Where were we?” he asks smoothly as he pours a glass of lemonade and offers it to me. It actually has mint leaves floating in it. Fancy.

  “You were getting ready to tell us that you are bringing Reece to the bonfire tonight,” Gavin answers fluidly without missing a beat.

  Gavin turns to me and takes my arm, speaking conspiratorially.

  “There will be fresh crab legs, oysters-
and you know what those are good for- and clams. And all the fresh melted butter that any girl could ask for. Plus, of course, the fruity drinks with umbrellas that all females appear to worship.” He bats his eyes in exaggeration. “Please say you’ll come. I will die a slow, painful, horrible death if you don’t.”

  “What are oysters good for?” I ask him innocently with a straight face. He stares at me as Mia hides a giggle.

  “Seriously? You haven’t heard this?” he asks. I shake my head even though I know dang good and well what they are good for.

  “They’re aphrodisiacs. Tried and proven,” he thumps his chest proudly. “I’ll make sure they have extras for you tonight, my lovely.”

  Gavin grins at me and I have to laugh. He’s ridiculous. But I find that I like it. Charm, cockiness and an inflated sense of ego. What’s not to like? The charm is the key. Without it, he’d just be an ass.

  I grin. “Alright. I’ll be there.” But then I look at Dante. “I mean, will we?”

  He smiles patiently. “Anything you’d like. You’re a guest in my home. Your wish is my command.”

  Gavin looks at him, then at me. “You’d better study your list of commands,” he advises me. “Ask for something good.”

  I laugh at his ridiculous expression, then turn to find Dante watching me.

  His blue eyes are solemn and I wonder what he is thinking.

  Laughingly, I ask, “I can ask for anything?”

  Dante leans in, his lips so close to my cheek that I can feel his warm breath.

  “Just say the word and it’s yours.”

  I suck my breath in and stare at him. He’s seems so serious all of a sudden and my heart starts skipping beats. His nearness is making me crazy. He smells delicious, like the earth, the sea, the sun and the woods. I have to literally bite my lip from replying, You. I want you.

  And I realize with a start, that I do.

  I do want him.

  I’ve known him all of two days and I want him completely, utterly and absolutely.

  OhMyWord.

  Chapter Eight

  The sea here in Caberra is amazing.

  During the day, it’s turquoise and clear and smells like salt.