Chapter Forty
His teeth ground a little the next time he asked, “ What is so funny ?”
“You. You are funny. How could you have forgotten? Maybe I should be worried you won’t like my kiss,“ Sophie replied, still giggling.
“Not a chance. I have been wanting to lock lips with you for days now. What did I forget?” Confusion wrinkled his brow, and Sophie reached up to smooth it before gently cupping his cheek. “You already kissed me, and I didn’t sleep without dreaming about it for three days. It obviously meant less to you since you don’t even remember it. To help jog your memory, think back to the pizzeria in Naples.”
Realization dawned, and Fernando slapped himself on the forehead, all previous irritation vanishing in an instant. “How could I have forgotten that? Okay, in my defense, I was trying to ward off a charging female. It wasn’t planned, and it wasn’t… enjoyed.”
“What?! You didn’t enjoy it?” Sophie hissed, incredulous that he would say that to her face .
“That’s not what I meant,” he defended. Images of a man standing with a shovel looking down into a very deep hole flashed through his mind. Before he could explain or retract his ill-fated words, Alicia interrupted.
As the final course arrived, Alicia’s eyes sparkled with a touch of nostalgia. “For dessert, we have ‘pandoro’, a classic Italian sweet bread, dusted generously with powdered sugar.” She gestured towards the soft, star-shaped cake as plates were set before Fernando and Sophie. “Pandoro originates from Verona, but it has become a cherished treat all over Italy, especially during festive seasons. Since our time together is coming to an end, and this is one of your last opportunities to embrace my wonderful culture, I felt it was appropriate.”
Cutting into the pandoro, Sophie and Fernando found it exquisitely light and airy. The cake’s buttery richness melted effortlessly on their tongues, its fine crumb contrasting with the sweet dusting of sugar. Each bite was a soft whisper of vanilla and butter, simple yet indulgent.
Alicia smiled warmly at the group. “I want to thank each of you for coming on this culinary adventure with me this evening. I know trying new foods and experiencing culture from the view of a dinner table can be uncomfortable sometimes. As our time together comes to a close, with only two days left in your Italian tour, I wanted to open my heart and my home to you to have the opportunity to fully embrace the experience. Some of you have already guessed, but to confirm your suspicions, this is my family home. My father’s family has resided on this tiny island and in this very villa for over two hundred years. She paused, her voice softening. “Tonight’s meal was lovingly prepared by my cousin Valentina and her wonderful family.” Raising her glass of sparkling prosecco, she toasted, “Here’s to a night of delightful flavors and new experiences, a tribute to the rich culinary heritage of this region and the people that make it worth visiting. ”
With heartfelt thanks exchanged and glasses clinked in celebration, the group finished their desserts and bid the hosts farewell before making their way to the boat, ready for the journey back.
As Sophie exited the home, she kissed Valentina on both cheeks and whispered, “Grazie per l’ospitalità. Arrivederci.”
Fernando lagged behind, having a conversation with them before jogging to catch up with the group, claiming Sophie’s hand when he gained her side. “So, when were you going to tell me you speak fluent Italian?”
“Didn’t I mention when I was spilling my entire life story in the gondola this afternoon that before my family went into the wine business, they were college professors and language tutors for the elite all over Europe?” Sophie mentioned nonchalantly.
“What? No. You left that fun fact out. Do tell.” Fernando was thoroughly intrigued.
“The short version is that my great-great-grandmother was from a wealthy family in Spain at the end of the 1800s. She married a poor professor instead of the heir to a wealthy family her father had chosen, which got her disowned. She had to use the languages she had learned in her elite ladies’ school and international travel to make money. She started tutoring young ladies while her husband taught math to wealthy young men. My great-great-grandfather was laid off several times for misconduct with married faculty wives and wound up in Mexico at the National Autonomous University of Mexico (UNAM). Before they knew it, he couldn’t get a well-paying job at any university because he had philandered with so many of his colleagues’ women that no one would write him a reference. He wound up using his understanding of math and science to help a struggling winery for a percentage of the operation. By the time he died, he had bought out the original owner, or as the family rumor goes, tricked him into losing it in a game of cards, where he may or may not have been using his math skills to count the cards. Either way, my mother’s family was firmly immersed in the wine business. Some of the next generations moved away from the family’s estate in Mexico and into California. There are several small family operations in Sonoma Valley, but the big management operations are at world-famous wineries in Napa.”
“You’re so full of surprises. I’m looking forward to learning more about your diverse family history. You have some interesting roots hidden deep below the surface.”
“Don’t look too deep. You might not like what you find,” Sophie reminded gently.
“At least you know they’re there. I have no idea about my family history.”
“We’ll work on that. The internet can be an amazing thing, and now you have me to help you when the time comes,” she assured him, wrapping her arm around him as she settled into their seats on the boat for the return trip to Venice.
Fernando kissed the top of her head, which she lay on his chest, tucked comfortingly under his chin. This was fast becoming his favorite position. Sophie was wrapped securely in his arms, her hair running through his fingers as he stroked her head.
Contentment filled him as they glided across the lagoon under a moonlit sky. The stars shone like diamonds on the clear night. That observation sent him down the path of engagement rings, which led to wedding gown designs, plans to increase security, potential wedding venues, and tough conversations with his brothers. In no time, the boat trip was over, and he was escorting Sophie to the door of their shared suite .
Unlocking the door, he held it open for Sophie, who entered the shared sitting room rubbing her eyes after having dozed off during the trip back.
“I’m so tired I may not even change my clothes before I hit the mattress,” she commented as she walked towards her bedroom door.
“Good night, Soph, sweet dreams,” Fernando said from his place at his bedroom door.
“Good night, Andy. I hope you dream of that less-than-enjoyable kiss in Naples. Maybe we can try again tomorrow and see if your memory serves you well.”
The mischievous grin that lifted her lips before she closed the door made him chuckle. One thing was for sure: life with Sophie was not going to be boring.