Chapter 55
After I drove Adriano and Bianca back to Florence, I saw Emilia later that night. Though we had passionate sex, we crashed out relatively early before waking the next morning and making love again.
We repeated the same pattern the next couple of nights –
Until our official ‘first date.’
It was Emilia’s day off, and I got Adriano’s permission to take the day off, too. Bianca had to nudge him into letting me, though.
“Come on, he’s taking her to the Boboli Gardens,” Bianca said, and added humorously, “Don’t make me call Niccolo.”
“You better not,” Adriano warned her.
“I will if you don’t give him the day off.”
“FINE. I’ll give him the fuckin’ week off if I don’t have to hear any more about the goddamn fuckin’ Medicis.”
So I took Emilia to the Boboli Gardens.
And everything that could go wrong, did.
I picked her up in the Mercedes, which I’d borrowed for the day.
She was wearing a tight, cream-colored sweater and a knee-high black skirt that showed off her stunning legs.
Even better, she was wearing knee-high leather boots.
I love boots.
I wanted to take her back up to her apartment and ravish her…
But I had to take her to the Boboli Gardens instead.
Fuckin’ Niccolo…
Adriano must’ve been wearing off on me. I swore never to repeat that thought out loud. It would get me busted back down to an entry-level foot soldier for sure, if not punched in the face.
Although if I said it just around Adriano, he might give me a pay raise.
…still not worth the risk, though.
I kissed Emilia out on the sidewalk. “You look incredible.”
“Thank you,” she said with a smile. “You look very nice, too.”
I was wearing my standard black suit and white shirt with no tie. My tailored suits were the nicest clothes I owned, so of course I’d worn one for the date.
I opened the passenger door.
Her smile faded as she looked down at the Mercedes. “This is your car from work, right?”
“It is.”
“Nobody’s died in there, right?” she said with a smile, trying to make a joke.
I gave her a disbelieving look, like, Did you really just say that?
“Sorry,” she said with a wince. “I’m still a little… ‘uneasy’ about your job.”
“Nobody’s died in there,” I promised her.
“And nobody’s shot anybody from inside it?”
I gave her another look. REALLY?
“I’m sorry!” she cried out. “I just – ”
“Nobody’s shot anybody from inside the car, nobody’s shot at the car from the outside, and nobody’s bled, or died, or anything inside the car. All we’ve done is drive around in it. That’s all.”
“…okay,” she said, and got in.
I didn’t mention that what I’d said was only true because it was a new car.
It had replaced another one that got all shot up the night Mezzasalma’s men attacked Adriano, Bianca, Massimo, and Lars at the hotel.
I figured there was no need to alarm Emilia…
…and she’d asked specifically about this car… not all our cars.
What she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.
The Arno River cuts through Florence from east to west and borders Historic Venice on the south. We had to cross the river to reach the Boboli Gardens. The neighborhood was called the Oltrarno – literally, ‘the other side of the Arno.’
The medieval Florentines were very imaginative in naming things.
It took forever to find parking. Unless you own a business like Bianca’s, street parking in Florence is a nightmare. But we finally found a spot a tenth of a mile away and walked to the side gate to enter the gardens.
Unfortunately, there was a line 50 people long snaking down the sidewalk.
Fortunately, Niccolo had warned me there were timed entrances to the gardens. They only let people in every 30 minutes to prevent the place from becoming swamped with tourists. I’d planned ahead and bought some ‘Skip The Line’ tickets on the internet.
Unfortunately, that didn’t mean jack shit.
We bypassed the line and headed towards the tiny window with only one teller that let people through –
But a big, burly guard with a bald head stopped us and said, “Back of the line.”
“I’ve got a Skip The Line ticket,” I said, holding out my phone to show him.
He didn’t even look. “Doesn’t matter. Everybody here has tickets.”
“But it’s a Skip The Line ticket – ”
“Back of the line!” the bald guy snapped.
I paid 50 euros apiece for those Skip The Line tickets, and I was getting pissed.
“LOOK, MAN – ”
“It’s fine, we’re going, thanks!” Emilia called out as she tugged hard on my arm.
“What’re you – ”
“Come on, let’s go,” she whispered.
I let her drag me to the end of the line.
“I paid good money for those tickets – ” I started.
“I get it,” she whispered, “but I was afraid you were going to…”
She trailed off.
“Afraid I was going to what?” I asked.
She looked uncomfortable. “I don’t know… start yelling, ‘Don’t you know who I am?’”
I chuckled. “That wouldn’t work. Nobody in Florence knows who I am.”
“Okay then – ‘Don’t you know who I work for?’”
What the fuck?
First people dying in the car, now this –
She saw my expression and winced. “Sorry.”
“My job really bothers you, doesn’t it?” I asked.
She looked desperately unhappy. “…yeah. It does.”
I took a deep breath and exhaled. “Look… today, I’m just a guy on a date with the girl he’s crazy about. That’s it.”
Her expression softened. “…you’re crazy about me?”
I circled my arms around her waist. “Isn’t it obvious?”
She tilted her head coquettishly to the side. “Maybe you should show me.”
I leaned down and gave her a long, lingering kiss.
When I pulled away, her eyes stayed closed for a few seconds in a hypnotized trance.
When she finally opened her eyes and looked up at me, she smiled. “Okay. I’m convinced.”
“Good. Let’s just enjoy our date. Cool?”
“Cool,” she murmured, and stepped up on her tiptoes to kiss me again.
We kept kissing until the line began to move.
Luckily, once the line started moving, it moved pretty quickly.
As we passed the bald guy, I glared at him –
But Emilia tugged on my arm gently, and I didn’t say anything to him. Just gave him the stink-eye.
At least the tickets worked when we got to the window.
Didn’t exactly get to skip the line, though.