Chapter 6
Allegra
“SHE’S PREGNANT!”
The following morning, I woke to my phone ringing and answered before my brain was entirely ready to process. Wiping sleep from my eyes, I pushed up to my elbows and tried to track Cassie’s line of thought. “Who’s pregnant?”
“Sierra!” Cassie shouted.
I bolted the rest of the way upright. “You’re kidding me?”
“Nope. Apparently, she’s three months along. Though we’re going to pretend not to notice the bitch is still skinnier than me.”
I chuckled. “Is it Harry’s?”
“No one knows who the baby daddy is. She told one of the attorneys she’s been seeing someone and it’s his. Seems like we’re still the only two who know about her and Harry, so people have decided it’s some guy she’s dating.”
“Wow. That’s… I don’t know what it is. Sad, maybe?”
Cassie laughed. “I know. I have very mixed feelings. I’m here for the drama, but I hate the thought of a child being brought up in that big old mess if it’s Harry’s.”
“I was never a big fan of Sierra, but for her sake, and the baby’s, I really hope it’s not his.”
“Yeah, me too. But enough about this place. What’s going on with you? How’s Italy?”
“Well, I only got in yesterday, but so far my flight was delayed eight hours, my rental ran out of gas and then got a flat tire, and…there was a flood in my grandmother’s house, and now I have nowhere to shower.”
“Oh my, that doesn’t sound good.”
I sighed. “I’m hoping today will be better. I used to love coming here. This place always felt magical.”
“Well, I’m sure it will. Maybe you’ll find a hot Italian plumber to fix your shower, and he can lay some pipe on you, too.”
“That’s the absolute last thing I need.” Though, as I said the words, my mind drifted to an image of the neighbor I’d met yesterday.
I pictured him shirtless, casually watering my grandmother’s garden with a hose in one hand and drinking from a mug in the other.
I bet he drank his coffee black—no cream or sugar for that guy.
“Shoot.” Cass lowered her voice. “I have to run. The queen just beckoned me.”
“The queen?”
“They reassigned me to Sierra.”
Thud. Oh, my heart. That one hurt. “Oh.”
“It’s only temporary,” she whispered. “Until you get a kick-ass job and rescue me from this place.”
I forced a smile, though we were on the phone and she couldn’t see me. “Have a good day, Cass.”
“You, too. And don’t be so quick to rule out a fling while you’re there. My roommate in college lived abroad our junior year, and she couldn’t shut up about what passionate lovers the men in Italy were.”
“Goodbye, Cass.”
“Later, girl.”
I stayed in bed another five minutes before dragging my ass to find some coffee.
Luckily, I found a dusty, airtight, unopened canister full of grounds.
While I brewed a pot on the stove in a hundred-year-old percolator, I looked out the second-floor window at my grandmother’s English garden below.
As lush as ever, it was unruly and overgrown in the most beautiful way.
Though it definitely needed some weeding.
In the center of the only clearing sat a wooden bench and a moss-covered birdbath surrounded by ferns, swaying lavender, delphinium, roses in every color, and dozens of other wild plantings.
A winding stone path led to an arch draped in wisteria, and a dozen lemon and lime trees were scattered across the garden.
I pushed open the creaky window and took a deep breath, savoring the amazing scent of blooming flowers and my childhood.
It lifted my spirits in a way only this place could.
Though my heart also felt heavy that I hadn’t spent more time here in the last few years.
I’d been too busy climbing the ladder at my firm—only to jump off a few rungs from the top with no net to catch me.
After I made my coffee, I went downstairs to the antique shop with my cat, Agatha Christie, in tow.
I’d peeked in last night, but it looked very different this morning in the light of day.
The store had always been cluttered, but it seemed even more so now than I remembered.
The small space was filled to the brim. There were oil portraits of strangers, worn leather travel trunks, ornate chandeliers, and tarnished silver lined the top of every dusty surface.
Agatha found a big fruit bowl and made herself at home inside it while I looked around some more.
Old wooden milk crates held thick records made for a Victrola, and there were at least three cuckoo clocks, four cabinets filled with mismatched glassware, and I couldn’t guess at the number of music boxes.
It was overwhelming, yet there was something oddly comforting about the chaos, too. That seemed to be a theme for me here.
I was still discovering all the things hidden in the nooks and crannies when there was a knock at the shop’s front door.
Matteo waved through the glass. He was clean-shaven today, with his dark hair slicked back, and I went to the door trying to decide if I liked today’s neat look better than yesterday’s messy one.
“Buongiorno.” He smiled.
Damn, him speaking Italian made his already ten-out-of-ten looks shoot up to a twelve. “Buongiorno.”
He lifted his hand and dangled a key. “For you.”
“What is it for?”
“My home, though the key is gratuitous. I do not lock the door since the day I move in.”
I smiled. My grandmother never locked hers either. “But why are you giving this to me?”
“To shower or take a bath. I leave towels in the bathroom on the first floor for you.”
“That’s very sweet. But I can use the sink until I get a new tub and shower.”
Matteo extended his hand with the key. “I insist. This is how neighbors treat each other around here.”
He wasn’t lying. Last time I’d spoken to my grandmother, a family down the road had been having some work done on their house, and they were all staying in her little apartment upstairs.
She hadn’t even known them very well before they moved in for a full month.
Still, it would feel odd to shower in the house of a man I’d met not even twenty-four hours ago.
“I appreciate the offer, but I think I’ll be okay.
Though why don’t I hang on to the key in case I need it? ”
He nodded. “I hava-to drive up to Florence today, so I’ll be gone most of de afternoon. Help yourself whenever you want.”
“Thank you.”
“Ciao.”
As he walked away, I couldn’t help but notice that Matteo looked as good from the back as he did from the front. And I almost got caught ogling his ass when he turned back.
His lip twitched. Maybe I had gotten caught. “Pavarotti is blind now,” he said. “Call his name before you enter. Or he pees on da floor.”
I felt my face wrinkle. “Excuse me?”
“Your grandmother’s lab. He lives with me now.”
I blinked. “My grandmother’s dog’s name was—” Ohh…
“Because he’s a howler. I get it. Lupo lives with you?
I just assumed…” I shook my head. I actually hadn’t assumed anything, except that someone else was taking care of things here after Nonna passed.
Apparently, that someone else was the neighbor. “That was very nice of you.”
“He is a good listener.”
I smiled. “Well, I suppose that’s important if he’s blind now.”
Matteo chuckled. “Make sure you yell to him before you open da door. Otherwise, you’ll be cleaning a puddle.”
“Will do.”
He eyed my cat, still relaxing in an antique fruit bowl. “He’s not a fan of cats.”
I laughed. I’d forgotten my grandmother’s seventy-five-pound lab was terrified of small animals. “Oh, I know. My grandmother had to put a rubber mat at the door in case he saw a squirrel when he was looking outside.”
Matteo smiled and waved, and I repaid the kind neighbor for taking care of my grandmother’s property by sneaking another peek at his ass as he walked out.
Then I went back to sizing up the antique store.
I had no clue what I was going to do with all this stuff, but I figured I might as well flip the Open sign around if I was going to be here.
Maybe some of it would sell and there would be less I’d have to deal with a few months from now.
My first customer rolled in a few hours later, while I was busy outside weeding the garden, so I went inside the shop while she parked.
“You must be Allegra!” A woman I’d never laid eyes on before pulled me in for a hug and kissed both of my cheeks.
“Umm… Yes, I am. How did you know that?”
“Sissi Napoleone, she tell Angelina Distefano who see Lucia Antenucci at-ta the market this morning.” The woman plopped a box on the counter. “Lucia and I power walk together. Me, I am Paola. You can join us if you’d like.”
I wasn’t sure if she meant at the market or for power walking, but I figured the latter and smiled.
Power walkers were a big thing here. Though not my nonna’s thing.
What had she called the ladies who constantly passed by?
The walkie-talkies. She’d sworn they were faster at spreading gossip than the telephone.
I pulled off a work glove and wiped sweat from my brow. “Thank you. I just arrived yesterday, but maybe once I’m settled in.”
She tapped the box she’d set on the counter. “You pay me sixty-three euro.”
“I’m sorry. I pay you? I owe you money?”
She nodded. “Your nonna. I found piece of her tea set.”
I felt like I’d missed half of a conversation. “Her tea set was missing?”
“She collect. I help her look for the pieces.” She waved her hand around. “It must-a be here somewhere.”
“Oh. Okay. I guess I didn’t come across it yet.” My wallet was upstairs, but the cash register was right next to me. I pushed a button to open the drawer, and not surprisingly, there were bills inside. So I counted sixty-three euro and held it out. “Here you go.”
“Grazie. Ciao!”