“She has straight As and she’s bound to get a scholarship and do something important with her life. I don’t want her cooking food for people.”
A tiny laugh left her lips. “Who cares, if that’s what makes her happy? The CIA only accepts top-rated students. That’s where she’s thinking of going.”
I stopped in my tracks. “She told you that?”
“Yes. She also told me she’s frustrated about not having a father and that you dodge the subject when she tries to bring it up.”
Hurt shattered through me. “That’s not true,” I practically whispered. “She asked me a bunch of questions when she was younger, and I explained everything.”
“That doesn’t close the subject forever. She’s older now and wants to know more about your choice to have a baby on your own.”
“So she can judge me and fault my decision like you did?”
It was too late to take back the words. They’d already been uttered. She gave a tiny jerk, and I knew she remembered that night. I’d announced my plan to get pregnant, and she’d stared at me in horror, then begged me not to go through with it. I’d come to the choice after a long, hard decision, and hearing my mother list all the reasons it was a terrible idea had shaken my foundation. “I had my reservations for a good reason,” she said with a lifted chin. “Was it wrong for me to wish you’d fall in love and get married? You set these goals, and if they don’t work out on time, you lose patience.”
“I didn’t want my ticking biological clock to color my idea of a relationship,” I shot back hotly. “Too many women want to have a child so badly, they marry the wrong guy because they refuse to wait any longer. I could have ended up divorced and miserable. What’s wrong with taking my fate in my own hands?”
“Nothing. Allegra was worth it. I’m just saying your need to control all aspects of your life is difficult on the ones who love you.” Her shoulders slumped as if the fight had drained out. “If you keep rushing to douse every fire that happens at the company, you’ll never end up with a solid team to back you up.”
“And if they fail? I could lose a client and a lot of money.”
“There will be other clients and a lesson learned. Sometimes, people have to fail to get stronger. Have you won every account you pitched?”
“Of course not.”
“Why should you put these expectations on everyone else? Kate and Layla are capable, but I’m sure you insist on being involved. I wanted us to take this trip so we could be closer. Get a fresh slate and return home strong. Allegra needs you, Frannie. There’re some hard choices ahead of her, and a young girl can get lost.”
Annoyance flickered. “I will always take care of my daughter. She’s going through a tough age and isn’t comfortable talking to me. Didn’t I go through something like that?”
“Yes, but even if you didn’t want to talk, I made sure I was available. Allegra needs you to choose her. Just like you always wished with your dad.” I let the words sink in and she walked to the door. “Think about it. I’ll see you in the morning.”
She left.
I turned around and gazed at the empty room. Memories of my beloved father took hold. Mom had teased the hornet’s nest, and I remembered waiting anxiously for him to return home from work trips, or staying up late to catch a good-night kiss. It became harder as I got older, but one of my most treasured images was his face beaming out from the audience during my high school and college graduations. I thought of the simmering resentment toward my mother for her consistent intrusion on my privacy, of her endless questions and constant doting. I had wanted my daughter to have freedom. I wanted to be the mother I dreamed of having, and yet somehow, I’d lost both of those roles along the way.
Exhaustion shook me in its grip. I longed to close my eyes and not think, but I had a job to finish and the hours were ticking away. I needed to work. I’d sort through everything later.
It was five a.m. when I unfolded myself from my desk and took a shower. I’d stolen an hour or two of rest throughout the night, but the revised proposal was complete. We weren’t due for breakfast for a few hours, but I was craving coffee, so I threw on yoga pants and a black T-shirt, ran my fingers through my hair, and made my way down to the lobby.
Only a few stragglers sat at the coffee bar, so I ordered a cappuccino and brought it outside. The terrace was empty, and the tables and chairs held a sheen of rainwater. I strolled down the short path and into a small garden. The scents of damp earth and lush blooms filled the air. Birds serenaded in sweet tunes. The sun eased upward into the sky for the start of a new day. I sipped my coffee and thought about my decisions along the way, and what my mother had told me, and if I had made more wrong choices than right. I wondered if my insistence on doing this job myself centered around my fear not only of failure but of not being important enough. I imagined Allegra slipping further away, until the tentative thread that kept us together snapped, leaving me utterly alone.
Like my mother.
This time, the attack came on hard and fast. There was no time to try to regulate my breathing or think happy thoughts. Immediately, my chest seized and drove the breath from my lungs. My heart slammed against my chest in a pounding rhythm, and I began to shake, my vision blurring as pure terror pulsed through me. A sound ripped from my throat. The cup dropped out of my hands and shattered. I bent over, gasping for breath and sanity.
Strong hands wrapped around me. A palm pressed against my racing heart, and a masculine voice whispered in my ear in a low command. “You are okay, Francesca. All you need to do is breathe. I’ve got you.”
I wheezed out some type of answer and clutched at his hand.
“Breathe in to the count of five. One-two-three-four-five. Good, very good. Breathe out to five. One-two-three-four-five. You’re doing great, nice and slow. Again.”
Over and over, he repeated the count, praising me, his warm strength slowly allowing my chest to loosen and air to rush into my lungs. He never hurried his tone or his pace, and finally, my shaky legs began to hold me. My heartbeat slowed. Eyes closed, I resurfaced and realized his palm cupped my breast, and my fingers were entwined tight with his.
Oh. My. God.
He realized the moment I became aware of our position, and slowly pulled away. But his gaze remained locked on mine, burning with intensity, and my heart began to race again for an entirely different reason. I swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. I-I don’t know what happened.”
A concerned frown creased his brow. “Have you never had a panic attack?”
“No, I have. I mean, it’s only happened a few times before, but I don’t know why now. I was just drinking my coffee alone.”
He nodded. “Sometimes these attacks happen randomly. Stress or fatigue could be key. Have you slept?”
I shook my head. “Had to work all last night.”
“Ah yes, that would do it.”
“Do you suffer from them too?” I asked tentatively.
“No, but my sister does. It was difficult for her, but she began to learn her triggers and how to handle them better.”
The situation struck me full force and I turned away, embarrassed. I was a mess. This trip was supposed to help me relax and put the attacks behind me. Instead, I’d suffered two of them in the first week, and Enzo had witnessed my breakdown. I couldn’t seem to handle anything at the moment—whether it be work or my daughter or even trying to let go and have fun in Italy.
“I’m sorry about the cup,” I said, ducking my head. “I’ll clean it up. I didn’t mean to bother you—I had no idea you were even here.”
“Francesca.” My name drifted in my ear on a soft whisper. His fingers touched my shoulders and turned me gently around. “Don’t worry about the cup. I saw you come into the garden and followed you to say good morning. You could never bother me.”
I lifted my head. The air stirred between us. “Th
ank you for helping me.”
“You can talk to me. I hate to see you unhappy during this trip. Is there something bothering you? Work?”
I tried to make a joke. “Don’t worry, it’s not your fault. I’ll still tip big.”
He didn’t laugh or flash his usual mischievous grin. “I’m asking as a friend, not a guide.”
And then I knew there was something more between us, and it wasn’t just me. Relief and a sweet rush of happiness filled me at his words. I didn’t analyze or try to label what I was experiencing—whether it be a flirtation or crush or something more. I just spilled out the truth.
“I got a call from the office last night and I lied to Allegra. Told her I was sick and left dinner early so I could return to the hotel. She figured it out and got upset. Then my mother came to talk to me, and it became this whole big thing about how I’m going to lose out on a relationship with my daughter because I make the wrong choices. You know the truly awful part?”
“What?”
“I think she’s right. I know I use work as a crutch when things get difficult at home. Instead of fighting for Allegra to talk to me, or pushing through the wall, or carving out some time, it’s so much easier to fall back on my career. What type of mother does that make me? I always resented my own mother for being there all the time and never wanted to be like her. Now? I’m wondering if I’ve been wrong the entire time and I screwed up my daughter’s life.”
Relief swept through me. It felt so good to talk to someone. I rarely opened up, but with his body heat pulling at mine and his gaze trained on my face while he listened, there was a bond that had grown between us.
“You cannot screw up someone’s life by loving them,” he said. He lifted his hand and cupped my cheek with a natural intimacy. My breath practically sighed through my lips at the contact, and his delicious scent swam around me. “I have watched my sisters rage and cry at my mama many times. There were even days or weeks when they did not speak for a while. But eventually, the bond between them was too strong to break by distance or stubbornness. Allegra is young and finding herself. And, yes, maybe you made some bad decisions, but you are not supposed to be perfect. I think your mama was trying to tell you to use this trip to see if you can mend some of those broken pieces, no?”
“Maybe. I think I have control issues.”
His laugh was as warm as his fingers on my bare skin. “Sì, this has served you well in the past, especially at work. But maybe you can use the next two weeks to experiment. Italy is your playground, and I am here to guide you. When was the last time you let go and didn’t worry?”
“When I was in elementary school,” I said.
“Then it is time you give it another try, no? Do these attacks usually center around work problems?”
I thought over the past three attacks. “Yes, they all tied back to something I had to do for the company but worried about delivering on.”
“Can you arrange coverage for a few weeks? Get yourself off being on call unless it’s a true emergency?”
I hesitated. “Yes, I want to. But I may end up losing a client.”
His eyes held a serious glint. “Maybe you need to lose something in order to prove it will all be okay. That is what I tell my sister. She’s a top assistant over at Gucci. Ambitious. Smart. Her motto is ‘failure is not an option.’ She reminds me of you.”
I smiled. “Yeah, I know that motto quite well.”
“I think we get what we need even though at the time we don’t understand. For instance, without those panic attacks, my sister wouldn’t have learned to balance things or look after her health. It was a bad thing that led to a good thing. Maybe this is happening to give you a chance to change some things.”
“My mom said the same thing. But somehow, you don’t make me feel like a screwup.”
“Because I’m not your mama.” His eyes lit with mischief and he stroked my cheek. The gesture made my breath lock. “I’m a neutral party.”
He didn’t feel very neutral right now. His gaze dropped to my lips, and I wanted to rise on my tiptoes and kiss him. It had been too long since I kissed a man in a passionate impulse, and he must’ve caught my intention because his eyes darkened to a deep obsidian and he lowered his head an inch and—
Pulled me into his arms. Tucking my head against his shoulder, he held me tight and pressed his lips to my temple. My mind whirled as it tried to figure out why he’d made the move, but then I sank into the bliss of a man’s embrace and let go.
His hard chest cradled my cheek, and he whispered my name softly. My muscles loosened and melted into his muscular body. Seconds ticked by and we didn’t move. I just closed my eyes and savored every breath, trying to memorize the imprint of his male figure so I could recall it in my dreams.
Slowly, he peeled himself away, inch by inch. I expected to feel awkward, but he looked at me and smiled, and I smiled back. It was at that moment I realized everything between us had changed.
I was glad.
He walked me back to the hotel lobby. “I’ll see you at eight for breakfast,” he said. “Try to rest. We have a big day to see the Blue Grotto.”
I raised a brow. “Do you realize this is the fourth time you’ve commanded me to sleep or rest up?”
“Tour guide responsibilities,” he said. “I go at a fast pace and I want to make sure you feel good.”
The moment the words were uttered, a dark red flushed his cheeks. I laughed, but my body tingled at the idea of him making me feel good in many intimate ways. Most of them didn’t revolve around fast. “Enzo, I do believe you’re blushing.”
He shook his head and turned, but I caught his grin. “I knew you’d be trouble the moment we met. Drink plenty of water. Your body needs it.”
He walked away. I returned to my room, but rest eluded me.
All I could think about was the sweetness of his embrace, and I wondered when we could do it again.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Allegra
I didn’t get much sleep last night. Besides Nonni snoring, I kept thinking about Mom and how she lied right to my face. I’m not sure why this was the time that bothered me the most—she’d been ditching me for work my whole life—but I honestly felt betrayed. Like she told me straight up she was going to try harder, and then the moment the office calls her, she jumps.
I shouldn’t have believed her in the first place.
I promised myself for the rest of the trip, I’d keep her at a distance. It was the best way. Better not to expect anything and be surprised if it worked out.
David had finally Snapchatted, with Freda and Connor. We messaged back and forth for a while and they sent pics of him playing onstage. I noticed the tons of girls surrounding him, and he’d managed to book another gig at the same place. Freda said they’d found a supplier and were able to get a steady supply of weed, and that the Jersey beach town was kick-ass and cool.
The anger and frustration at what I was missing hit me hard. I’d lost the opportunity to bond with David, and even though I was enjoying Italy more than I thought I would, Mom had managed to dump me again. Maybe I should just concentrate on my grandmother. I’d study the food and art and come home a more well-rounded version of myself.
I was polite at breakfast and refused to let my mom see that I was hurt. I hated that Nonni looked sad as she studied both of us. Mom was hurting her too; she just didn’t realize it. The thought of the three of us staying in Tuscany for a week made me want to scream. I decided then I’d try to bail early, even if I had to fake an illness. The tour was enough. I refused to watch her work while Nonni and I tried to pretend it was okay.
We reached the marina and climbed onto the boat for our tour around the island. I’d hoped Ian would ask to sit with me again, but he spent the morning with his parents. I heard them laughing and joking around. Must be cool to feel so close to both parents. I’d nev
er know.
When the boat cut its way through the water to head toward the Blue Grotto, I was struck by the vivid colors of blue ocean and sky, giant white yachts and earthy rocks spurting out in various twisted shapes. Droplets of water misted my face as we made our way around the island. In my peripheral vision, I spotted Ian whispering something to his mother, and then he was walking over to me with a smile. Dressed in white shorts, a blue polo shirt, and old sneakers, he looked comfortable yet confident. As if he was happy in his own body. His ginger hair was mussed from the wind and his blue eyes sparkled as bright as the sea. The freckles didn’t bother me as much anymore. I was getting used to them and they seemed to fit with his face.
He leaned against the rail next to me. “Hey. How was your night? What’d you do?”
“Just went to dinner. How about you?”
“Same, but we stopped at the bakery afterward for some torta caprese.”
“What’s that?”
“Think dark chocolate tart with almonds. I think Mom cried.”
I laughed. “It may make me cry too. I’ll have to try it.”
“After the grotto I heard we’re doing the death drive. Mom swore to sit by me and hold my hand with a barf bag. I think I may skip it and go back to the hotel.”
I stared at him in surprise. “Ian, you can’t! We’re going to the top of the mountain and it’s supposed to be spectacular. You’ll regret skipping it.”
He wrinkled his nose. “I know. I’m afraid I’ll freak out on the bus, though. I was okay on the plane ride and even the funicular, but the idea of hugging the edge of a cliff terrifies me.”
“I promise I can get you through it. I’ll distract you.”
He looked into my face and I caught a flare of emotion that made my stomach clench in a good way. “You don’t need to babysit me, Allegra. I don’t want to ruin the experience for you.”
“You won’t.” I crossed my arms in front of my chest with determination. “Just trust me. Okay?”
Our Italian Summer Page 19
