Turn Towards the Sun (34 page)

I decide I’m going to wear the spectacular red Suzette dress. I hope it’s not too provocative for the event. I unbraid my hair and really like the waves that were created. I put on some new black lace undies and a matching bra. I walk into the bedroom and decide on a pair of shoes. I reach for some nude colored opened toe stilettos. Slipping them on
,
I stand and gaze at my reflection
,
wearing nothing but my shoes and lingerie.
Being in love does wonders for my looks.

I squeeze into the
form-fitting
dress
and stretch
it over my curves. I adjust it so the
cutouts
are in the right place. One sits right above my breasts revealing the slightest curve of cleavage while another is off to the right just under my shoulder. Another one is on the side of my dress just below my rib
cage,
and the last one is on the
backside
at the small of my back.

Damn
,
this dress is hot. But I need Enzo’s approval. I step out into the living room. Enzo looks up from his computer, dressed in a dark grey Armani suit. His eyes open wide.

“Oh. My. God. Ava.”

I twirl, unsure of his reaction.
“What do you think?”

“What do I think? I think you’re the most beautiful woman in Florence right now. I think every woman will want to be
you,
and every man will want to be me.”

“Is it too much?”

He rises and holds me at arm’s length, looking me up and down.

“It’s perfect.”

“Perfetto?”

“Brava Ava.”
He praises me.

Fabio is waiting in the lobby and after a brief
introduction,
we head to the car. I pictured Fabio based on those bodice ripper novels they sell in
America,
but he couldn’t be more opposite. He’s very short, maybe five foot five with a slender build. His hair is short and
dark,
and he has piercing blue eyes. What’s with all the
blue-eyed 
Italians?

He opens the door for
me,
and Enzo climbs in the other side. They chat comfortably in
Italian,
and Enzo informs me that Fabio doesn’t speak any English. Fabio drives quickly to the location of the dinner. I am more than a little scared as he weaves in and out of traffic, honking and yelling out the window periodically. He says something to Enzo
while
making eye contact with me.

“He says don’t be scared. He is a very safe driver.”

I smile politely through gritted teeth.

We arrive in one piece at the Hotel Leonardo. Once
again,
Fabio opens my door as Enzo meets me
.
He eyes
me up and down as I step out and Enzo snaps his fingers in front of his eyes.

“Eh, questa donna è mia.”

Fabio steps back apologetically and mutters something in Italian. I hear a heavy sigh
from Enzo
.

“Is something wrong?”

“I just realized I’m going to have to fight off my compatriots all evening.
Not good for a man trying to stow his jealous side.
”

“What did you tell him?”

“I said you are mine.” He grabs my hand and smiles.

A young Italian woman dressed in a
dark-blue
skirt and jacket acknowledges us as we enter, recognizing Enzo right away.

“Signore Milano, please this way.” Her accent is very
strong,
but at least she speaks English.

She smiles at me as she leads us to the dining room. We walk
in,
and the room breaks into applause.

“Does this ever get old for you?” I whisper.

He shakes his head no and flashes a brilliant smile for the crowd. I smile as we walk to our
table.
We sit
and the ceremony begins.
That's when
I realize it’s entirely in Italian! He didn’t tell me that. I guess I stupidly assumed it would be in English.

I look around the room. It seems a little dated with worn carpet and beige walls. It’s just a standard banquet
hall,
and I wonder why this location was picked. I am bored to tears listening to speech after speech in a foreign language. Every
now and then,
clapping breaks out and everyone looks towards us. Enzo is clearly in his element. I am clearly out of mine.

We are served an opening course of spaghetti with marinara sauce. I’m surprised at its blandness.
I never would’
ve thought you could have bad spaghetti in Italy.
Next,
we receive a roasted chicken breast on a bed of wilted spinach. Again, it’s tasteless. Enzo is happily eating so I say nothing. I have no idea who can understand English in this
room,
and I don’t want to offend anyone. But I’m confused, knowing Enzo’s taste I can’t understand how he is accepting all of this.

Finally, he stands and waves his hands around the room as the crowd erupts into applause. He leans
down, kisses me chastely on the cheek, then
walks to the front.

“Signore e Signori.” He begins. He speaks for several minutes in eloquent Italian. I have no idea what he’s talking
about,
but I am enraptured. His poise, charm, and commanding presence come across in any language. I look around the
room,
and they are equally enthralled with him. I can’t wait to find out later what this is all about. His speech ends and he receives yet another standing ovation.

Everyone stands and starts to mingle, a steady stream of admirers
come to
speak to Enzo. Many of them address me and of course are met with a blank stare while Enzo translates. I hear bella and bellissima often and smile each time graciously, hoping they are indeed referring to
me.
I see Enzo give a warning look to more than a few men. Gotta love Italy. We finally take our leave and return to the lobby to wait for Fabio.

“I hope you’re going to tell me what I just spent four hours listening to?”

“Yes of course, I didn’t even think about the language Ava. You seem so Italian sometimes.”

“It’s okay I enjoyed myself. Mostly.”

He grips my hand. “This is my life.”

“And I accept it.”

Fabio returns and Enzo instructs him to drop us off near the hotel.

“We can walk back from here.”

“In these shoes?” I point down to my
four-inch
stilettos.

He bends down and taps my leg for me to lift it. I steady myself on his shoulder while he removes each shoe. I shrug and walk
barefoot
down the Florentine sidewalk. We approach a busy storefront serving gelato. He orders while I step back. He returns moments later with a cup of chocolate gelato. We sit at a small
table,
and he grabs my legs pull
ing my feet onto his lap. He sits at an angle
so
he can spoon some gelato into my mouth.

“I
want
to feed this to you.”

I
eat hungrily. It’s so good- creamy, cold, and chocolaty. It’s the chocolatiest chocolate I’ve ever tasted. After the disappointing
dinner,
this is definitely a reward.

“With all those fancy flavors why did you choose chocolate?”

“Because chocolate is the
best,
and I only want the best. That’s why I want you.” Prince Charming strikes again.

We finish our gelato and walk around the corner to our hotel, Enzo carrying my shoes for me. As we’re
walking,
I start to feel a little lightheaded and very tired. Maybe it’s all that sugar at once. We head for the elevator. In the
room,
I sit down on the edge of the bed. I think I’ll close my eyes to rest for moment.

I’m
confused. The sun
streams
in
to
the window and Enzo is not in bed
.
I roll out of bed and realize I still have my Suzette dress on. I frown. How long did I sleep? I walk into the living room and see Enzo working away as usual.

“Ah buon giorno principessa.”

“What time is it?”

He looks down at his watch.

“Seven thirty.”

“In the morning?”

“Yes
,
in the morning. You fell asleep on me last
night
and I didn’t have the heart to wake you.” He chuckles.

“You let me sleep in this?” I motion to the dress. “Why didn’t you take it off?” I slept in a $1500 dress!

“Because, like I said, you were sleeping. It’s just a dress.”

Exasperated I sit down at the dining table.
“Can I have some
coffee Enzo?”

He walks into the kitchen and pours me a cup of coffee.

I take a big gulp. “Good Lord
,
that’s strong.” 

“That’s Italian.” He
laughs,
and I can’t help but laugh too.

I go get dressed. I’m really excited for my first sightseeing outing.

I put on some simple black capris and a white blouse.
I feel much better after my deep sleep and refreshing shower. I walk into the living room.

“I’m going to head over and get Gabby. Grayson said he would meet us in the lobby.” I inform Enzo of the plans for the day while I brush out my intensely wavy hair. I love it.
I must figure out how to get this to happen back home.

“That’s good. I’ll be in meetings all day. I’ll text you. Stick close to Grayson.”

“I will.” I roll
my eyes,
but he doesn’t see me.

“Calvin will be with you?” I ask.

“All day.”

“Then will you fill me in tonight about the dinner we attended last night.”

“I’ll do more than that to you tonight.
”
He stands and chases me around the living room. I squeal like a child. He quickly catches me and kisses me. I
give in for just a moment before I
push
him
away.

“You have work to
do
and I have sightseeing.”

“Off you go.”

Even though he’s working, Enzo is so much more relaxed in Italy. It’s great to see.
I walk down the hall to Gabby’s room and knock on the door. I hear hurried rustling and knock a second time. She opens the door slightly and looks flustered.

“Ava, hi.”

“Why do you look so surprised to see me? Aren’t we going out? Grayson is waiting for us.” I hear more shuffling in the background and push open her door to see Calvin tucking in his shirt and smoothing down his hair.

“
Hey
Ava.”
Calvin smiles.

Gabby blanches.

“Looks like someone had fun last night.” I wink.

“What’s going on here?’ I hear Enzo’s voice behind me. He looks over my shoulder and sees Calvin and Gabby looking guilty.

“Are you ready to go Calvin?” He keeps his tone
professional,
but his quivering lips threaten to give away his amusement.

“Yes.” He hurries towards the door but stops and kisses Gabby on the cheek. “See you later?”

She nods.

Enzo smacks me lightly on the
butt,
and the two men walk away. Gabby grabs her purse and we head to the lobby to meet Grayson, who’s waiting for us when we exit the elevator.

“Let’s go to the Uffizi first.” I suggest. Grayson and Gabby agree.

“Anything you want to share?” I tease Gabby as
we walk
to our location.

“It just happened
,
Ava. I don’t know what came over me. We spent the whole afternoon together after you left. The next thing I know we’re rolling around in my bed.”

“So you like him?”

“Yes. I like him.” She grins from ear to ear.

Grayson stands directly behind us like a bodyguard. He can’t hang back too f
ar because of the crowds. I’m
told that August is usually a good time to come to Italy because there are
fewer crowds,
so I can only
imagine
how crazy it must be in the busier months.

It’s pretty
warm today too. The air is thick and sticky with humidity and tourists. We turn the corner and get in the
mile-long
line to get into the gallery.