Chapter Twenty West #3
“That’s…so nice?” Cammie finally manages, and Lila doesn’t even register that it comes out like a question, already pulling us into the group of other field school students she was chatting with.
We sip our drinks and half answer endearingly invasive questions about how we fell in love.
Eventually, Cammie steers us toward other topics with some of the group who she’s gotten to know on the dig.
I’m beginning to think I don’t dislike parties as much as I thought I did.
That’s when a voice with a thick Italian accent that I can’t quite place bellows at close range, “Camilla! Weston! Oh, it is a joy to see you both again.”
Cam and I whirl around in unison, confusion clearing when we lay eyes on the new arrival.
“Dr. Constantini!” Cammie squeaks, cartoonishly high-pitched with surprise.
“Wow, I’m so glad you’re here—we weren’t sure if it’d work out with your schedule, so what a great surprise.
” She and the professor exchange a hug and cheek kisses, and then, before I can awkwardly go for a handshake out of habit, he pulls me in for the same hearty greeting.
“It is my pleasure to be here,” he bellows, smoothly turning toward the rest of our group, who are immediately swept under his charming spell. While Cammie makes introductions, I smile and sip my fizzy lemonade, trying to examine the itchy feeling starting around the base of my skull.
It’s a good surprise, seeing Dr. Constantini again. If anything, he’ll make the social experience of this party easier, with his ability to befriend seemingly anyone. I’m sure Dr. Alex will be pleased to see her old mentor whenever she arrives.
But now that I think about it, why hasn’t she arrived yet? Is something wrong? Did something tip her off to potential surprises in store for tonight, and now she’s going to skip it entirely, then furiously demand answers from Cammie and me?
I give myself a mental shake for essentially base jumping off the rationality cliff. This is still on track to be a perfectly lovely evening. Dr. Alex will get here soon. No one is mad at me. It’s all going to be fine.
Even if that itch is still there, making me wonder if we haven’t wrapped up the Dad Quest as neatly as we thought.
I see the flash of red in my periphery just before I hear a gasp similar to Cammie’s, but a bit more subdued.
“Dr. Constantini!” Dr. Alex cries. The smile that overtakes her face makes my shoulders sag in relief. Okay, good surprise.
“Oh, thank the gods,” I hear Cammie mumble through a clenched-teeth semblance of a smile as she relaxes against me a little.
We can work with this. Nothing strange going on, just as long as he doesn’t say anything to her about—
“Ah, bellisima,” the older man shouts, drawing attention from people across the whole terrazzo, including, I notice for the first time, my dad. He looks as pleased to see the older man as Dr. Alex was. Both parents’ gazes follow Dr. Constantini’s to see what’s so beautiful.
Which is when their smiles drop, and my heart goes along with them.
“Paolo, you made it,” Dr. Constantini says to the newest arrival of his former students. Paolo Bianchi moves cautiously through the crowd, which parts like it’s been choreographed for maximum drama.
“Paolo?” Dr. Alex echoes her former professor, though she says the name more like a bewildered question.
“Alex,” Captain Bianchi greets her, and when they stand before each other, both lean in for the hug and double cheek kiss. They linger a little in the embrace, but in a way I read as old friends who haven’t seen each other in too long.
I thought Cammie was fooling herself to think that she’d see Dr. Alex with these men and judge whether they were her father. But sure enough, this perfectly pleasant—if confused on both ends—reunion solidifies what my mind was already inclined to believe. Paolo couldn’t possibly be Cammie’s dad.
“Gosh, it’s been ages,” Dr. Alex says, pressing her hands to her flushed cheeks.
“Twenty years,” Paolo agrees with a goofy grin, sticking his hands in the pockets of his corduroys, his posture easy and comfortable.
He nods to indicate the balloons hanging over the not-yet-filled food table along with a banner proclaiming 20 Anno di Villa di Bronzo.
No mention of Dr. Alex, per Johnny Russo’s instructions.
“Congrats, by the way. I can’t believe it’s been so long, but you wouldn’t know it from looking at you.”
“Oh, stop it,” Dr. Alex says with a girlish giggle I’ve never heard from her.
Cammie and I both look back and forth between the pair like we’re watching a Ping-Pong match.
“But what on earth are you doing here? Not that it isn’t great to see you, just…
I thought you’d left all this academia stuff behind.
Did Villa Russo’s event folks reach out to everyone who was in the classics department at the time, or… ?”
Cammie’s hand clamps around my wrist as my stomach lurches.
Here we go.
The Italian leather boat shoe is dropping. Paolo looks around quickly, his eyes first passing right over Cammie before they land back on her, and he waves a hand our way.
“It’s an interesting story, one I’m not sure I know in full,” he starts, “but the short answer is that your daughter invited me.”