Wish You Weren't Here

Chapter 35

Ava

“What. In. The. Actual. Fu—”

“Stop. It’s nothing,” I tell her, reaching for the glass of white wine James poured for us before disappearing back down the spiral staircase into the apartment.

Tammy’s here.

I keep telling myself this fact even though she’s directly across from me. It just doesn’t seem real.

We are sitting on the rooftop deck that looks down into the city streets on two sides and out over the countryside beyond Urbino’s walls on the remaining two. The festivities are out of sight, but the sound of an accordion and the muffled voice of a baritone reach us from the piazza in front of the palazzo.

“Nothing my ass,” Tammy whispers, her brows pulled so high they fade into her perfect hairline.

You’d think there would be some judgment in her tone, maybe even anger at the fact that I’m quasi-betraying her twin, but all I see is wide-eyed vicarious excitement.

“How the hell did you keep this from me?” she asks, reaching into the ice for the bottle of Vernaccia and topping me off even though I only took one sip.

I look up to the single cloud in the sky and try to find a solid answer to this question.

“I don’t know. I didn’t want to make it into a thing,” I tell her.

Her brows waggle, the twinkle in her clear blue eyes reflects even brighter.

“Clearly it’s a thing,” she says, tapping the rim of her wine glass to mine. “And you know what—you deserve a thing, Aves. You know I love my brother, but come on. Who the hell does he think he is right now? You should hear what my mom has to say about this. She threatened to cut him out of the will. She is pisssssed—”

I take a long sip of wine and watch her hands fly as she rants. She’s already more Italian than I am, and she’s only been here an hour.

“And she’s thinking about keeping him off the campaign trail, but Ethan keeps feeding her this bullshit that it was mutual and you wanted to live this trip to its fullest.” She breathes and lifts her brows. “Which apparently you are.”

“You done?”

She grins and pretends to be thinking.

“Not really. How long has this been going on?” she asks.

Since the moment I arrived? I think about the way I told James off that day at the airport, about how I spilled embarrassing details of my personal life to him during a car ride from hell. About how I treated him like the hired help. About that night in the museu—

“Oh my God, Ava. Look at you,” Tammy’s wolfish grin changes into something else. Something I don’t like. And I realize I’m smiling like an idiot.

She squints while she looks me over and lowers her wine glass, leaning back in her chair as if she’s been hit by a truck. She lets out a low whistle and crosses her arms over her chest.

“Not once in all of those emails and postcards did you mention that you’ve fallen in l—”

“Ladies, do you need another bottle of wine up there?” James’s voice cuts through Tammy’s accusation, and I widen my eyes at her and mouth for her to shut up.

“It couldn’t hurt,” I yell back down to him even though we have barely tapped into the first bottle. Whatever will detain him down there longer so I can make sure Tammy doesn’t say something that can’t be unsaid.

“Tammy, please don’t make this into something it’s not.”

She puts her hands up, but she’s still studying me with a mixture of shock and awe.

“Stop looking at me like that,” I hiss as James’s ascending footsteps clang on the iron spiral staircase.

The tray he’s holding appears first and it’s an absolute work of art. The word charcuterie doesn’t do it justice.

“Antipasti,” he says, placing it on the table between us, and I don’t hesitate to pluck a piece of prosciutto from the center, all the while ignoring the grin I’m getting from our server as I drop the meat into my mouth.

James places another bottle of white wine into the ice bin and starts to back his way toward the stairs again.

“I’m going to give you two some time to catch up,” he says when he hits the top step. “Dinner at Nina’s at eight thirty—unless you two want to go somewhere alone, which I can definitely set up for you—”

“We will be there!” Tammy cuts in, without looking my way.

James nods, and goes on, “Then we usually watch the fireworks from the top of the hill.”

Tammy makes a soundless clap with her hands.

“I love fireworks. What perfect timing for me to show up!”

I glare at her, thinking about just how unperfect her timing was, and she tosses me a wink and a grin.

“Alright, arrivederci. Enjoy,” James tells us, meeting my eyes for a long moment as the roll of his Rs shivers its way up and down my back. Should I follow him back downstairs? Discuss what just happened? Kiss him again before he decides to run away?

But before I can answer any of those questions, his dark hair ducks back down out of sight, and Tammy and I remain silent until the heavy wooden outer door pounds shut below us on the street.

She stares at me through the quiet, while I distract myself from her gaze with the spicy salami and fresh burrata. For the first time in my life, I don’t know what the hell to say to her. How do I explain what is going on here when every time I think of him my thoughts scamper like rats when you turn the lights on?

Tammy finally stops staring at me like I’m pinned to the page of a scrapbook and leans forward, pulling a piece of pecorino right out from between my fingers.

“There I was, lonely as hell back in America picturing you over here holed up grading papers and obsessing over my brother when in fact you were out there”—she gestures with her hand out to the hills—“with that gorgeous piece of man in this gorgeous little town doing Lord knows what.”

I open my mouth to defend myself, but she’s not done.

“Screw your valedictorian speech. I have never been more impressed by you in my life.”

And though I have a mouthful of meat, that doesn’t stop the steady stretch of the smile that spreads across my face.

Tammy’s here.