Chapter 24
Nico, with his tall stature and broad frame, is a very convenient tree to hide behind, which is just where I find myself this afternoon when Anya and Mari leave through the lobby for what I can only assume is an off-property dinner.
Once Anya and Mari disappear down the street, I step into my role as Nico’s shadow, preparing check-in folders, folding pool towels, and packing up breakfast leftovers because the B and B donates to a nearby church.
Nico says they don’t need the help, but I insist, because I need the distraction.
A busy body quiets an unsettled mind, Mom always claims, and I am determined to live it until it comes true.
I settle in on one of the two reception desk stools.
I choose the one right in front of the complimentary bowl of individually wrapped pistachio and hazelnut chocolates.
I pop one in my mouth every time Nico turns his back to me, crumpling the evidence in my jean shorts pocket.
I try to rearrange the bowl, playing my own version of Jenga, as I try to make it appear as full as it was before I had my way with it.
Nico sits on the stool next to me. He’s wearing shorts that are creeping up his lean, muscular legs, revealing the outline of his tattoo.
It’s a shield, intricately detailed, with a roaring lion in the middle and what looks to be flowers blooming from the center.
There’s a banner with his last name, Caccini, written on it in cursive.
Nico catches me staring. “It’s the family crest.”
“Is there a story to it?” I ask.
“The lion symbolizes bravery, strength, and nobility. It was adopted by an ancestor who participated in the revolt against Spain in the 1640s, and has been passed down ever since, a reminder of how deep our roots go here.”
I wonder what that’s like, to have been in a place so long that everyone knows who you are and where you belong.
For me, home is a new place that my parents built from the ground up, and all their hopes are grown into the promise of a place.
What must it be like to be trapped by your family’s past instead of their future?
We’re laying out silverware when Nico asks, “So, what do you think of how the hotel is running?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“Of course.” Nico fiddles with a place mat. “Guest feedback is very important to us,” he jokes, but there’s an undercurrent of earnestness beneath it too.
“I love it. I always thought ‘five-star service’ was all about white gloves and red carpets and prosecco, but you have such impressive attention to detail, and you give your guests such individualized care. But… I also think there are places where you can make things easier for yourself.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, my parents run a restaurant, and the thing they’re always drilling into us is speed of service, right?
You have to make sure that you have what you need when you need it in the place where it is most convenient.
A coffee station, for one.” I point to a bare section right by the entrance to the restaurant.
“A coffee station?”
“That way your mom won’t have to prepare separate drinks for every guest who asks. It’ll be right there for them when they want it.”
Nico looks thoughtful. “I suppose it’s worth a try.”
He lugs three large stainless-steel beverage carafes from the storage room, and we fill them with coffee, decaf, and hot water for tea. I arrange a vine of bougainvillea around a canister of biscotti and prepare lemon wedges, along with a ramekin of honey.
“Also, you’re not optimizing this space here.
” I take a few stacks of the brochures that Nico keeps behind the desk.
“So many people don’t know everything you offer.
What happens if they come up to the front desk and you’re helping someone else?
Why not leave out some reading material while they wait?
” I lay a few piles on the counter, off to the side, so they’re visible but also not cluttering the airy lobby.
“I guess we’ve only ever done it the one way,” Nico admits. “It always seemed to work, so I’ve never thought to change it.”
“Give it a chance,” I wheedle. “If you don’t like it, you can always hide them again.”
“Okay, boss.” Nico bumps my shoulder, hand brushing mine when he neatens the brochures, and this time, I’m sure it is on purpose, because he gives me a rakish grin, like my bad, but also was that okay?
And I bite back my responding smile, because suddenly, the world doesn’t feel as so totally over as it had yesterday. There’s work to do, but it’s nice to have someone to do it with.