Kiss Me Goodnight in Rome (The Senior Semester Series Book 2) (22 page)

“It’s fine,” I say tightly.

Pete sighs and lets out an exasperated laugh. “Mia. I have sisters. I know that saying you’re ‘fine’ means that you’re pissed as all hell.”

I laugh in agreement. I am pissed as all hell.

“Look, it was stupid, I was drunk, and I acted like a dick. I get that. But we still have to do this project, and I would like to get a solid grade in this class. I promise not to act like an asshole, but will you please do the project with me? We’ve already made so much progress.” He looks so sincere, his eyes full of remorse. Pete hunches forward, resting an elbow on his knee. “I really am sorry.”

Gah! What am I going to do, stay mad at the guy forever? I’ve seen lots of people do lots of stupid things when they’re drunk. At the forefront, some of Lila and Emma’s shenanigans come to mind.

But he really hurt my feelings.

I look down at the ground, dragging out Pete’s apology for a few extra seconds. When I look up, I resolve not to be angry any longer. So he probably thinks I’m fat … I think I’m fat too. Can I really stay mad at someone for pointing out the truth? “It’s fine. We can finish the project.”

Pete visibly relaxes. “Good.” He nods his head up and down. “I’ve done some work on it this morning that I can show you.” He pulls a notebook out of his backpack. “Thank you, Mia.”

“Sure,” I say noncommittally, taking a look at his notebook.

Hmm, not too bad. Why does Pete have to be smart too? I take a deep breath. I watch him guardedly out of the corner of my eye. He’s still looking at the notes in his notebook. Damn. I guess I’ll just have to suck it up and do the assignment with stupid Pete.

* * *

“How’d it go?” Gianluca asks when I enter the apartment forty minutes later.

I shrug. “Okay, I guess. We still have to do our assignment together so …” I trail off, implying that I don’t really have a choice about having to spend time with him.

Gianluca nods. “I know.” He takes a step toward me. “But, Mia …” He sighs, running a hand over his stubble. He looks uncertain, which is so out of character for him that I freeze. “I don’t want to overstep here, but I can tell whatever that boy did hurt you.” He watches me closely, gauging my reaction to his words.

I avert my gaze and look at my shoes, basically confirming Gianluca’s hunch.

Gianluca sighs. “Whatever it is, bella…” he touches my chin lightly, causing me to look up into his serious expression, his brown eyes warm, worried “…always know that you deserve the world, and any guy that isn’t willing to give that to you isn’t worth your time. Va bene?”

I nod in agreement, smiling at him. Gianluca really is a big teddy bear. I hope he and Paola have a whole house full of kids one day. Gianluca will be an amazing dad.

“Grazie,” I tell him shyly.

He nods. “Let me know if you ever need anything. I’m serious, Mia.”

I nod again.

“Okay…” he claps his hands together, and I can tell he’s relieved that the awkward part of the conversation is over “…vuoi un caffé latte?”

“Si, per favore.”

“Perfetto. Let’s go into the kitchen.”

I follow him into the kitchen and sit at the table, staring out the window thinking over Gianluca’s words. He’s right. Lila and Emma and Maura are always telling me that I deserve a great guy, someone who will value and respect me. The thing is, I’ve never had a serious relationship, never had a boyfriend. Of course in theory I know how a girl is supposed to be treated. But, really, how can someone truly love me when I’m so disgusting and pathetic? When I have no self-discipline or will power? When I can’t even get through one day of sticking to my goals?

I shift in my seat, suddenly uncomfortable thinking about the banana I ate this morning. So many useless carbs.

When Gianluca sits down beside me, he jostles me out of my thoughts, and I look up. He watches me for a moment, his warm eyes tight with concern and shadowed with an emotion I can’t read. “You’re sure everything is okay, cara?”

I nod. “Yeah. Everything’s great.” I smile brightly. Too brightly.

Gianluca nods once, pushing the caffé latte he made toward me. I smile for real when I see his attempt at a leaf in the foam.

Aw, Gianluca attempting latte art.

I giggle.

He shrugs but returns my smile. “Lexi is teaching me. Next time it will be better,” he promises.

* * *

Emma’s face lights up my computer as her laughter rings out like church bells, long and steady. And then she’s hysterical.

“Oh my God! Stop laughing,” I scold her.

“I can’t help it. I can’t believe you have two guys fighting over you.”

“You sound like Lila.” I roll my eyes. Which reminds me, I really do need to call her. “What are you even talking about? Pete isn’t fighting over me; we’re doing a project together.”

Emma shakes her head aggressively, her bangs blinding her momentarily. “No such thing, babe. He’s trying to make amends so he can try again.”

“Try what?” I raise my eyebrows.

‘Try to get in your pants, that’s what!”

I grimace, curling my upper lip unattractively. Wow, I lean closer to see my expression in the little FaceTime box. Is that what I look like when I’m grossed out? What a terrible expression.

“Stop looking at yourself and focus on me,” Emma whines.

I snap my eyes back to her face. “That’s disgusting. He’s not trying to do that.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah right.”

“What are you doing home on a Friday anyway? Shouldn’t you be out liaising with a Senator or something?”

“Yeah, or something,” Emma comments.

I raise my eyebrows. “What are you not telling me?”

She sighs. “Nothing. Look I got to go. Just wanted to see if you spoke to Maura. I got like a bazillion missed calls from her at like three in the morning. So weird. I tried calling her back but haven’t managed to get a hold of her.”

Maura’s random missed calls! “Yes! That happened to me too. It was weeks ago though.”

Emma shakes her head. “No, for me it was on Tuesday.”

“Hmm, that’s strange. Drunk dials?”

“Maybe. I’ll catch up with her this weekend.”

I nod. “Okay.”

Emma smiles. “I got to go. Late night shenanigans and all that.” She waggles her eyebrows. “Good luck losing the douche. Trust me, he’s in it for the long haul.”

I stick my tongue out at her. “Stop saying that.”

She blows me a kiss. “Talk to you soon.”

“’Bye, Emma.” I click off FaceTime.

What is she talking about? Pete isn’t trying to make amends; I mean, technically he already apologized and everything is fine, right?

It’s just a school project.

November

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Lorenzo

“So, what do you think?” I prod Claudia’s calf with my toe.

“Ew, don’t put your stinky feet on me,” She responds, sitting up.

We’re lounging on her bed like we’ve done thousands of times as kids, and more recently over the past few months. Claudia sits up straight, her legs crossed. She flips through the pages of a magazine methodically, her eyes looking at the pages blankly. I’ve just filled her in on the other piece of information I’ve been keeping from her: Benito’s back in town.

“And Sandro said he’s been talking to Gianni Costenzo?”

I nod. “Si.”

“We’ve got to draw Benito out,” she says finally, looking up to meet my gaze. She chews the corner of her lip thoughtfully and then nods, confirming her decision. “Yeah, we’ve got to get his attention.”

“What do you mean? How? Why?” I sit up straighter, repositioning the pillows behind my back.

“He’s hiding. We’ve got to do something to let him know that we’re on to him, something to draw a confrontation. Otherwise, we could be playing this game forever, and slowly, he’ll be draining millions of dollars from Papa’s companies. We need to get a message to him that we know he’s Papa’s beneficiary and that we’re going to contest it. We can’t leave this up to Mama; she’s practically in denial. She should have told us about this, dealt with it, months ago.”

I nod, thinking over her words. As much as I hate to admit it, she’s right. “Damn, Claud. When did you get so smart?”

She leans over and punches me in the arm. “I’ve always been the smarter, better-looking Barca. You just never noticed it because you’re so self-absorbed.”

I wince. She’s right again.

Claudia’s eyes widen when I don’t retaliate. “Enzo, I’m kidding!”

“No…” I shake my head “…you’re right.”

She laughs but it’s exasperated. “What is wrong with you? I’m really just joking. When did you get so sensitive?”

I shrug. “Since all of this happened.” I gesture around the room to indicate nearly losing our home.

She punches me again. “Well, stop it. I liked you better when you were sharp and sarcastic. I don’t know what to do with nice and considerate Enzo.”

I laugh. “Yeah okay.”

“I’m serious.”

I nod again.

“So what do you think we should do? How should we get his attention?”

I tilt my head to the side, thinking over options. “I may know a way.” Would it work? Would he care enough to show his face?

“Feel free to clue me in.”

I look up at Claudia. “Liguria,” I say simply.

“What about it?”

“I’ll go up to the house, spend the weekend, throw a party.”

She nods slowly, her mind racing to catch up to what I’m telling her. “So you’ll start using things that are now Benito’s property, meaning he will either contact you to tell you the house is no longer ours or he’ll know that you’re doing it to piss him off and get a rise out of him. Either way, he’ll come around. And we can tell him that we know what he’s up to and we’re not going to let him get away with it.”

“Exactly.”

She smiles. “That’s brilliant.”

I smile back. “Glad you think so little sister.”

“You mean smarter sister.”

“Yeah.” I reach out and tug on her hair. “Okay.”

“One condition …” She looks at me seriously.

“What?”

“We keep Mama out of it. Don’t even tell her Benito’s back in town. We need to handle this; she can’t deal with any more heartache.”

“I agree.”

Claudia smiles. “Well then, let the plotting begin.”

* * *

Will it work? I don’t see why not. I’ll head up to the Liguria house and start preparing as if I’m going to throw a big bash. If I don’t hear from Benito, well, then I will throw a ridiculous, obnoxious party. Something to grab his attention, something to garner a reaction, something so I can tell him to his face that I will never allow him ruin my family’s name, our reputation, or Papa’s legacy.

I plan to head up to the house on Thursday, just to see if there’s any chatter, see if any of our neighbors have seen Benito poking around. I’m throwing clothes in an old Louis Vuitton duffel bag when a thought crosses my mind. I discard it quickly. I shouldn’t involve Mia in any of this. I’d hate for her to even meet Benito. Then again, how would he ever single her out of a party of fifty plus people? Against my better judgment, I pick up my phone and send her a text. Ten minutes later, she sends me a thumbs-up emoji.

I smile. A party and Mia time.

Thank you, Benito.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Mia

When I step out of Lorenzo’s car, the sky is gray and gloomy, threatening rain. The breeze picks up and cold wind skates across my face. I pull my scarf tighter around my neck. We walk through the quiet train station and into the parking lot. Three cars are parked in a row, the rest of the spaces empty.

“It’s off-season,” Lorenzo explains, taking my hand in his and linking our fingers together.

I snuggle closer into his side, turning my face away from the wind.

“You cold?” he asks, his voice raspy. He squeezes my hand lightly.

“A little,” I admit, wrapping my free hand around his arm. He flexes lightly at my touch, and I hide a smile.

“We should be there in a few minutes. The house is just down this block.” He steers us toward the right.

Two minutes later we walk up to a beautiful home that overlooks the sea. The house is yellow, built right onto the stones extending into the sea. Arched windows and a stucco roof give off a Mediterranean vibe. Although the trees are barren and the garden empty, I can imagine the home in spring and summertime, bursting with color.

“It’s beautiful,” I whisper. I take a mental picture, closing my eyes to imprint each detail into my memory. The way the wind echoes as it flits through my hair, the smell of salt and sea and November, it’s all too perfect to forget.

Lorenzo doesn’t say anything, but I can sense him next to me. The scent of his cologne mixed with fresh laundry and a hint of basil radiates from him. He presses his hand to the small of my back, shifting my body closer to him, his frame blocking most of the wind. I open my eyes and stare into the light gray of his thick sweater.

“Thank you for taking me here.” I smile up at him.

“I’m glad you came with me.” Lorenzo smiles, his white teeth flashing briefly. “It’s always pretty cool to see how a visitor takes in this scene.” He gestures to the ocean and the hills and the horizon. “Sometimes, I take it for granted.” He shrugs. “It’s even more beautiful seeing it through your eyes. Your reaction makes me appreciate it a lot more. Thank you.”

I nod. “I guess I can understand what you mean. People always ask me about what it’s like to live in New York. I always say it’s just like living anywhere else; it has its own unique pros and cons and mystery and beauty. I love watching friends who visit the city for the first time stare up, up, up at the skyscrapers, their mouths open in awe. I always laugh when they stare in shock at the sheer amount of people crossing the streets when the lights change, learn the art of hailing a cab in the rain, navigate the subway system.” I smile. “I’m glad I can provide that type of amusement for you.”

Lorenzo smiles back. “You just described exactly what I mean.”

I gesture toward his home as we walk up to the front door. “This is really something else though.”