Turn Towards the Sun (36 page)

“I don’t blame him really.” She says.

“Well this is home for the day I guess. Hope you like Italian soap operas.”

A few hours later, Francesca blows into the room like a
gale-force 
hurricane. She’s dressed in little black capris and an orange top with black flats, very Audrey Hepburn.

“Ava!” She rushes towards me
and hugs
me. “Enzo was so worried for you. We all were.”

A man walks quietly behind her. He is about her size, only slightly taller with light brown hair and light blue eyes. He looks at me and smiles but says nothing.

“I’m fine Checca, really.”

“Yes, this is my boyfriend Eduardo. He doesn’t speak English
yet,
but he speaks Spanish and Italian.” Eduardo shakes our hands. This
quiet
little man is with the whirlwind that is Francesca?

“We need to eat lunch.” She announces dramatically.

“Enzo won’t let me leave the building. You know it’s pointless to argue with your brother.”

She frowns then shakes her head. “I go find him.”

A few minutes
later,
she returns speaking animatedly with Enzo, Calvin
and a confused Grayson follow
closely behind. I still can’t tell if they are angry. Enzo throws his hands in the air.

“Fine Checca. Fine.”
He turns to me. “You, Gabriella, and Checca can go across the street for lunch. I’ll keep Eduardo here with us.”

Her eyes flash victorious.
“Come, we eat.”

Very impressive Francesca.

I look apologetically at Enzo
,
who simply flashes his beautiful smile.

“Rea
dy?” Enzo enters the room we were
sequestered in all day except for our brief outing with Francesca. A bored Gabby looks up from her book. I jump out of my seat right away.

“God yes.”

“You stayed with Ava all day Gabriella?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t leave her while she’s being held hostage.” Oh good one Gabs.

“Touché.” He bows towards her.

“Can we just go please?” I ask.

We walk back to the
car,
and Calvin
rushes over to hug
Gabby. He’s like a big
,
stylish puppy dog with her. Enzo and I get in the car with Grayson. We drive back in silence. I have to talk to him about today.

“I know I gave you a
scare,
but you can’t keep me locked in a shabby hotel the rest of our stay.”

He’s silent.

“Did you hear me?”

He turns to me. “Yes and I know. But I
don’t know how to protect you.”

“I’ll be really careful and I will stay close to Grayson, no wandering. I promise.” I squeeze his hand and offer a pleading smile.

Enzo nods reluctantly.
His
phone rings
,
allowing us to change the topic.

“Pronto?” I watch him listen intently then turn to me.

“Checca wants to speak with you.” Enzo hands me his telephone.

“Ciao Checca.”

“Yes, we meet tomorrow to start the training.”

“Training?”

“Yes, I train you
,
remember?”

Oh,
the design assistant
gig. I thought she might have forgotten about that.

“Okay sure. Where are we meeting?”

“Enzo will bring you to
me
and we start.
Va bene?”

“Yes. Va bene.”

I hang up and turn to
Enzo,
but I know he already knows what is happening.

“I gave Calvin the day off in order to escort Gabriella around town.” Clever.

“Okay so what am I going to be doing with Checca exactly?”

“She’s going to teach you what she does.”

I sigh. I thought the extent of this was going to be the work we did at Girasole. But I can already tell I’m outnumbered.

We pull up in front of our hotel and say goodbye to
Grayson
. I have no idea what Enzo has planned for us
tonight,
but I really hope it’s nothing fancy. I would like to
get out and explore the
city,
but I don’t want to do it wearing evening wear.

“What do we have planned this evening?” We
walk
briskly towards the elevators. Enzo looks seriously at
me,
and I can tell he’s still very much in work mode. He stops suddenly.

“What do you want to do amore?” His tone
softens,
and his eyes follow suit.

“I just want to spend time with you. Doing regular things.”

He pushes the button for our floor. “Regular things? What does that mean?”

“You know, like ordinary things non extremely rich and successful architects would do.” I smile, hoping he’s not offended.

He grins. “Well, why don’t we put some comfortable clothes on and go out and walk around Florence. We can find a place for dinner and be regular people.” He opens the door to our room.

“I don’t know if being regular is in your lane Enzo, but thanks for trying.”

“What does that mean?”

“Everything you do is over the top, everything is extraordinary. Even your looks. The way you speak, dress, carry yourself, all very far from regular. Sometimes I still don’t get what you see in me.” I didn’t mean to say that last part out loud.

Enzo turns to me and stares intently in my eyes. “Bella.” He whispers as he rubs his hand across my cheek. “Bellissima.” He kisses my nose. “I don’t know why you say this. You are the most spectacular woman I’ve ever met. It’s not just your beauty it’s what you do with your beauty. You’re so…natural about it. I don’t think you even know how beautiful you are.”

He’s standing so close I strain my neck to look at him.

“It’s you that is extraordinary. You are so warm, loving, open, and honest. I noticed right away on the plane
you were different than the wome
n I come into contact with, you were real. You’re not obsessed with your looks or your weight. You don’t care about the latest fa
shion trends. You are just you.”

“
You treat me like I’m different than you, somehow better than you. You’re wrong. For every fault I have you lift me up. Any faults you have are endearing to me. I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect woman for me if I designed her myself. It was easy to fall in love with you.” He pulls me tighter and kisses the top of my head.

Tears stream down my face. I’ve never had anyone say things like that to me in my
life,
and it feels amazing.

He steps back. “Now let’s change and go get dinner before I ravish you.” He winks.

“Sure as long as we get back to the ravishing part later.”

“I assure you it will happen. It’s a promise.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep sir.” I add playfully.

“I never do.” I get a brilliant smile in return.

We head out into the perfect evening. It’s warm but very
comfortable,
and the sky is crystal clear. What a breathtaking place Florence is. Every street, every corner has something to see. I can only imagine how amazing it is through the eyes of an architect.

“Tell me what you see Enzo, through your eyes.”

He grins. We stop in front of a building that looks like it must be at least five hundred years old. The burnt yellow stucco is chipping off in spots. The front door is very grand,
made of
old dark wood with iron hinges. A green vine covers the top portion and trails down one side of the building. A small red bicycle leans against the house under a window.

“What do you see Ava?”

“I see a beautiful old house begging me to come inside.”

“That’s exactly what I see.” Enzo replies.

“You must see more than that
.”

“I see the beauty first Ava, always. Then I see the structure.”

We continue on
,
discussing the various buildings. We walk to the nearest piazza and look for a place to eat dinner. We enter
through
a non-descript door opening and are met with a lovely, romantic little space inside. The place looks like it was carved out of the building surrounding it. There must be only ten small tables inside and all of them are full. A huge wine rack covers one whole wall to the left of
us,
and the kitchen dominates the back.

“I want to eat here Enzo. Let’s wait for a table.”

Enzo squeezes my hand as we walk towards a small man who looks to be an owner.

“Signore?” Enzo addresses him in
Italian,
and the two men begin a lively discussion, about what I have no idea. I know it’s about me though based on their continued glances in my direction.

“Si signore, okay.” The man smiles at me. He rushes off to the back.

“What did you say Enzo?”

“I told him you were in love with the
restaurant,
and I was in love with you so if there is any way we could get a
table,
I would be most appreciative.”

Seriously.

The man comes back with a small
table,
and two
young
boys follow him with chairs. They walk over in front of the wine wall and set it up in the corner. There are no other tables in this area except ours. This is definitely not regular.

“Prego Signorina.” He says to me
and motions
for me to sit. Enzo guides me to the table with his hand on the small of my back.

“What did he say?” I want to know what all of these Italian words mean.

“He asked you to sit.”

“Prego means sit?”

“No.” He ponders what to say for a moment.

“In this case it meant
sit,
but it can be used whenever you want someone to do something politely. Or it means you’re welcome.”

I cock my head, completely confused now.

Enzo continues. “Italian does not always translate perfectly to English. It is a flexible
language,
and you must have the context of the situation to understand it. In this case, he just wanted you to sit.”

The language just got that much sexier to me.

“I asked the owner to bring us the specialty of the
house,
so I don’t know what we’re having yet.”

“It’s an adventure.” I grin.

“Is this regular enough for you Ava?” He teases.

“No
,
this isn’t regular at all. But now that I think about
it,
I don’t need regular as much as I thought.”

Enzo laughs out loud. I love that.

A woman
comes
to our table and sets down a plate of antipasto- meats, cheese, and huge Tuscan olives. This seems to be standard fare everywhere we go. The Tuscans, and all Italians for that matter, are very proud of their regional offerings. She brings us a basket of fresh bread made in house. Enzo breaks off a piece and drags it through this amazing dark green olive oil. He leans over the small table and puts it in my mouth. I close my eyes as I chew and enjoy the peppery taste of the oil.

“I love watching you eat.” He says, as I open my eyes again.
His blue eyes burrow
deep inside me.

“Let me feed you tonight.” He adds,
his
voice thick with lust.

I don’t know how to react to that. He pulls my chair closer to him. “Say yes amore.”

“Okay Enzo.”

“Ava, say yes.”

I feel a tingle shoot through the lower half of my body. Why is this so hot?

“Yes.”

He smiles and relaxes. Why did he need my permission?

“You can do whatever you want Enzo.”

He strokes my hand. “It’s important to me that you feel happy and free. I don’t want you to do things just because I want to.”

Damn. I feel my eyes tear. He’s trying so hard not to overwhelm me again. What could be sweeter?

“Thank you.” It’s the best response I could think of.

“Prego.”
He
laughs. I laugh too.

The owner brings out a steamy dish and sets it down, sprinkling
Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese
over the top. I have no idea what it is. He grins and steps back for a young girl to place another dish on the table. This one looks like some sort of meat dish. The man and the girl step back and smile.