Chapter Two
chapter two
ISLA
Caio drives with one hand on the wheel, his other arm carelessly hanging out the window as his fingers drum the outside of his car to the light beat of Fleetwood Mac’s “Gypsy.” He’s got good taste in music, I’ll give him that.
He follows the same windy road we started out on for another half hour and soon, houses start popping up as we get closer to what must be the nearest town.
The scenery quickly changes from beautiful to breathtaking and I’m grateful Caio slows down, allowing us a moment to take it all in.
Citrus stands sit along the edge of the road, some of them with kids advertising for freshly squeezed lemonade. Caio honks the horn at them as we pass, and I catch a smile tugging at his lips as they wave back.
A welcome sign comes into view a few meters up on my side of the road. I’m still squinting to read the faded letters when Caio says, “Welcome to Ruby Cove, ladies.”
My head connects with May’s as we both lean into the middle seat to see out the front windshield.
“Wow,” is all I can manage.
This place is the definition of picturesque, heavenly even, with gorgeous villas lining the landscape in front of us. Most of them are shades of cream and pink, but there are hues of orange and yellow peeking through every now and then. Together, they form a perfect cohesive and charming style that complements each other and their surroundings.
Bougainvillea and other plants overhang door frames and climb up the stucco walls of the buildings, almost as if the nature is inviting them to stay. As if these places are meant to be here and always will be.
“Ruby Cove?” May asks while moving to look out her own window.
“ Sì ,” Caio nods. “You will find some of the most gorgeous sunsets you’ve ever seen in this little corner of the world. Almost every evening in the summer, the sky burns in an array of oranges and pinks, slowly transforming day to night.” His words paint a dreamy picture in my head.
“A group of English fishermen settled here in the eighteen hundreds, so you’ll find many English speakers here. It’s always stayed a little mix of both,” he explains. “When the fishermen used to come back to dock after a day on the water, the sun would often cast a pink hue over the whole town and the water as it set over the horizon. So that’s what they called it—their little Ruby Cove. And it just stuck.”
“Huh. Cute,” May says, her eyes still glued to the window.
“The locals have really played off of it in more recent years. Some people painted their places pink, while some just added more pink flowers in their gardens. We get a few tourists around here, and the community just finds it a fun part of the heritage.”
“It’s charming,” I add. Because that’s exactly how I would explain this place. It looks full of history and character, and I suspect full of stories.
“This is where the real heart of the town lies,” Caio says with a proud smile as we round the corner.
The water immediately catches my eye. The sun glints off the small waves lapping against the dock that lines this end of the street where boats of all sizes are tied up, from dinghies to yachts. But this is only a small portion, I realize, as my eyes fall on all the boats out on the ocean, the afternoon breeze catching in their colorful sails.
Would we have ever found this place if not for Caio? As I look at the scenery out my window, a small part of me is grateful that he is the person that happened to come across us. Okay, a big part of me.
A stone wall separates the sidewalk from the ocean with a set of stairs leading into the water, but the locals ignore them as they run from the street and jump off the edge, bombing into the turquoise water, hooting and hollering at each other. The saltwater sprinkling over the footpath as it lands.
My eyes wander to the other side of the street, where gorgeous historic buildings stand side by side. The street is made up of small cafes and bakeries, all with customers lined up out the door and onto the cobbled footpath.
I think we’ll have to make a stop in one of those before we leave.
There are jewelry stores and galleries, little boutiques and bookstores. It’s beautiful.
“It all looks so local,” I think out loud.
“That’s because it is,” Caio replies. “These buildings on the waterfront are all original and are the places that those famous sunsets cast the brightest glow on.”
This place feels perfect now. I can only imagine how captivating it would be as the sun goes to sleep.
“Pretty much every business you see here is run by a local family and always has been. They pass the businesses down from generation to generation. This is one of those places where everyone knows everyone, and everyone is up in each other's business,” he chuckles. “But there’s a big sense of community. As much as everyone is nosy, everyone is willing to help each other out when push comes to shove.”
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” I admit as we keep rolling down the street.
I pay more attention to the people now. An older man walks out of a watchmaker with a jig in his step while wrapping what I can assume is a new watch around his wrist. He passes by a woman carrying a colossal roll of cheese and they greet each other with big smiles before carrying on in their own directions.
They look so content. A stark contrast to the people at home, frowning as they trudge around the crowded streets of New York, or yelling and flipping the bird at a yellow cab that nearly ran them over on their daily rush to the office.
This is definitely the kind of place you could fall in love with—where you can come and go, but a piece of your soul will always belong here, as if a tiny piece of your heart will always be tied up to those docks.
“I can still take you to Sorrento if you prefer,” Caio says with a knowing smirk.
“Hell no. If this place you’re talking about has a vacant room, I don’t think I’ll ever leave,” May says with a dreamy expression.
I shake my head, smiling over at her. How is this where we ended up? I should’ve expected the unexpected, given that I’m here with May. But maybe this trip isn’t doomed after all, considering we are still alive and driving into what looks like a dream.
“Thank you, Caio, for bringing us here,” I say gratefully before swallowing my pride to add, “and for helping with the car.”
His eyes lock with mine in the rear-view mirror. “Don’t mention it,” he replies with a wink.
We continue driving through the center of Ruby Cove and come out the other side before driving up a small hill and reaching yet another breathtaking street. Every street here is welcoming and picturesque, like something from a fairytale. The road comes to a cul-de-sac at the top of the slope, and impressive buildings surround us as we coast towards the end of the street.
The town center was charming, but this is just…unreal. The taller buildings hint at subtle luxury with stone details, statues, and arched windows. There is an island separating the right side of the road from the left, with pink flowers billowing over the curb, while beautiful trees line either side of the street.
We come to a stop at the end of the street in front of the grandest building of them all. The place has to be at least ten stories high and is so large that it curves around the end of the cul-de-sac. It’s got those enchanting arched windows on the ground floor with forest green shutters that contrast beautifully to the vintage custard stucco of the rest of the building. Rectangular window boxes rest underneath them with a selection of plants and flowers spilling over the edges. It’s a designer’s dream.
“Did you forget you found us in a beat-up rental stuck on the side of the road, Caio? Like we are like poor, poor travelers,” May says. “We can’t really afford to stay in the Beverly Hills of Ruby Cove.”
She’s right. We could never afford a place like this. Not for more than a night anyway, unless we were bunking in the basement.
Caio doesn’t grant May a response as he cuts the engine and gets out, opening her door before rounding the car to open mine.
I step out and take a breath of what feels like the freshest air I’ve ever allowed into my lungs; the crisp feel a far cry from the smog-filled air of New York.
“Are you coming?” Caio asks from where he’s standing halfway up the cobbled path that leads to the hotel’s entrance. His accent is so beautiful, it makes everything he says sound so romantic. It’s subtle, but it’s there.
May comes to walk by my side as we hesitantly follow. “Did his English lag when I said we can’t afford to stay here?” She links her arm with mine.
“I’m pretty sure he heard you.”
Caio holds open the impressive arched wooden doors for us like the perfect gentleman as we walk through them and into the lobby. I’m careful not to scuff my feet along the elegant marble flooring beneath us.
Caio hands his car keys to the doorman before turning to us. “Wait here,” he says before waltzing up to the front desk and speaking to the lady in fluent Italian, hopefully trying his best to get us a room at such late notice.
I turn to wander as I take in our surroundings. A grand curved staircase is the star of the show, sweeping up the center of the room with its elegant banisters soaking up all the attention.
An elevator dings on the other side of the room, and a smiling family comes bustling out. I follow them as they head towards the back of the room and through the bi-folding doors onto a patio filled with sun loungers where they settle in for the afternoon.
My eyes pan over the lawn that stretches out to the edge of the property, and while the hotel itself is beautiful, the real killer is the view. It’s blue for miles as I look down over the edge of the hill. You can see Main Street of Ruby Cove, but the rest is just an endless ocean glittering beneath the afternoon sun. God, we really can’t afford to stay here.
I wander back inside and over to what seems to be a photo wall, featuring candids from formal events full of beautiful people in beautiful outfits laughing with champagne in hand. There’s a black-and-white photo of what looks to be this building, but different. I squint my eyes to read the words scrawled in ink below the photo, but it’s written in Italian. My eyes flick to a newspaper article with the hotel in its more updated fashion with “Hotel Dolce” written on a big sign across the top of the building. Caio is standing out the front, his arm propped up on a grand opening sign with an award-winning smile beaming across his face. I tuck that little tidbit away as I continue scanning the corkboard and land on an ad for a job vacancy. “Cleaners needed,” it reads. Hmm…
“Here’s your key,” I hear Caio say to May from behind me.
“No way you got us a room on such short notice in a place like this,” May starts.
“That’s because this is his hotel,” I interrupt, directing my eyes to his.
He raises a brow in question, but a small smile graces his lips.
“I saw your photo,” I say, gesturing over my shoulder to the photo wall.
“Ah,” he responds, glancing down for a moment as if he’s embarrassed about getting caught.
“Look, this was really nice of you, but we can find a place to stay on our own,” I say, taking the key from May and placing it back in his hand.
“In the peak of summer? You won’t have much luck here. You really don’t have to worry about it. Call it my good deed for the month.” He holds the key back out.
“We don’t need your charity,” I retort, my patience quickly wearing thin.
He turns to May. “Is she always this stubborn?”
“Yup,” she responds. “Since the day I met her.” Caio chuckles to himself.
“No, seriously. She has zero capability of allowing someone to do her a favor, so she’s probably about twenty seconds away from an emotional meltdown here.”
“Okay, can you stop talking about me like I’m not here?” I interject. “I’ll find a way to pay you back,” I promise, but he just smiles back at me, and I have to avert my eyes to look anywhere but his face.
A tall man in a gray suit speed walks over to us. “ Bonjour sir, ” he addresses Caio.
“Stefan,” he responds, his warm smile dipping ever so slightly.
“I’m glad I caught you. I need confirmation on your status for tonight. Did you find a plus one?”
“Oooh, is there a party?” May asks.
“It’s not a party.” Stefan’s French accent thickens with disgust as he regards her, as if her assumption was a personal attack. “It is a convention for the business owners of Ruby Cove.”
“So a fancy party?” May replies, wiggling her shoulders around.
“A party tonight? Didn’t you just get back to town?” I cut in.
Stefan’s attention falls to me. “Mr. Marchetti runs a tight schedule. That is why Hotel Dolce is the top-rated accommodation in the area.” May raises her eyebrows at Caio in approval.
“It’s something I host every year so everyone can just get together and have some fun, and,” he pins Stefan with a glare, “I don’t need a plus one.”
“The local press are going to be there this year, Caio.”
“I know,” Caio replies, and for the first time since we met him, he seems annoyed.
“Everyone wants to see you with someone for once,” Stefan says, sketching a brow at him.
For once ? As if this guy doesn’t have a pack of women following him, waiting for a scrap of attention.
“Perfect!” May exclaims. “Isla will go with you.”
“What?” I snap. Is the girl possessed? In what world would I do this?
“Isla?” Caio says, like he’s testing out my name, seeing how the two syllables taste on his tongue.
“You need a date.” She points to Caio. “And you need a way to pay him back for us staying here tonight.” She points to me.
“For as long as you like,” he corrects her.
“Perfect.” Stefan starts writing on his little clipboard he’s been holding to his chest this entire time. “I'll see you both at eight. Ciao !” He turns and walks away quicker than I could think up an excuse to get out of this. I look at my best friend with pleading eyes.
“Come on, Isla, it’ll be fun. You can get all dressed up on our first night and go have some real fun.”
“If you’re so excited about this, why didn’t you volunteer yourself?” I grumble out the side of my mouth, giving her my best death stare. I don’t do fancy. I barely even go out back at home, so this is way outside my comfort zone.
“You should join us, May,” Caio says. “I'm sure Isla would prefer not to be in a room full of strangers on her first night, and that way you can both meet some new people,” he offers, as if sensing my discomfort at the idea.
“Well, I’m not one to say no to a party.” She smiles up at him.
They both look at me, waiting for an answer, but I hesitate. This is not what we planned. I don’t want to make another mistake, but the way May is looking at me with her puppy dog eyes wins me over. “Okay,” I sigh. “One problem though, we don’t have anything to wear.”
Caio waves a hand in front of himself, dismissing the issue. “Don’t worry about that. I'll take care of it.”