Chapter 17
Allegra
TWO DAYS LATER, I was wrapping some items for a customer in the antique shop when Luciana stopped in.
“Ciao!”
“Ciao, Luciana. I’ll be done in a minute.”
“Figurati. Take-a your time.”
Luciana was fingering through a box of old postcards when I finished. She pulled one out and held it up. “I didn’t know you sell this kind of stuff. I would come by sooner.”
I smiled and took the postcard of a naked woman from her hand.
“I remember the first time I came across erotic postcards like these. I think I was about eight. My grandmother was in the back, and when she came out, I felt like I’d stumbled onto something I shouldn’t have, so I shoved the cards down the back of my shorts.
It wasn’t until a few summers later that I finally got the courage to ask about them.
Apparently, there’s a big niche market for antique erotic postcards.
There was an old guy who used to come in and go right to that box.
” I laughed. “I thought he was such a perv.”
“I found old Playmen under my brother’s mattress once.
It’s the Italiano equivalent to your Playboy.
We were ten or eleven, and Matteo, he’d found my diary and read it and was poking fun because I wrote about one of his friends I had a crush on.
So I went in search of his secrets. I gave it to my mother to get him in trouble, but all it did was get my father in hot water for leaving his stash lying around. ”
I laughed. “That figures.”
“I leave tomorrow,” Luciana said. “I come to invite you to dinner tonight. At a ristorante I love—L’Altro Cantuccio. It’s in da village. Me, you, and my brother.”
“I’d love that. What time?”
“Nine?”
“I have to check my busy calendar,” I joked. “Oh look, it seems I’m free.”
“Fantastico. I go to visit a winery up north before, so I meet you there.”
“Oh. Okay.”
She kissed both my cheeks. “Ciao. Matteo will pick you up.”
***
Hours later, Matteo pulled into the driveway as I was finishing getting ready.
I wore a red dress that hugged my curves and dipped a bit lower at the neckline than I’d normally choose for dinner with friends.
But I’d be lying if I said I thought of Matteo as only a friend, or that I hadn’t had him on my mind while picking out what to wear.
I spritzed on perfume and went to set the bottle down, then thought better of it and added a little more.
Catching my reflection in the mirror, I was happy with the way I looked.
It made answering the door and facing Matteo a whole lot easier.
“Hello.”
Matteo’s gaze swept over me, lingering long enough in certain places to make me glad I’d gone back for a second spritz.
As usual, he looked insanely handsome. He’d dressed in a crisp white shirt and simple, dark, tailored trousers, shorter in length than most men in the U.S.
wore. Italian men liked to be stylish and made an effort when they got dressed.
Tonight, Matteo had pulled off the perfect combination of elegant and relaxed.
Even the way he smiled, effortless and confident, made my heart skip a beat, and I was both grateful and disappointed that it wasn’t only the two of us having dinner.
He leaned in and kissed my cheek. “You look bellissima.”
“Thank you. You look very handsome yourself.”
Matteo offered his elbow for me to hold as he walked me to the passenger door of his truck.
He waited for me to get in and shut the door behind me.
On the drive over to the restaurant, I didn’t miss the subtle glances he stole over at my legs.
I might’ve uncrossed and recrossed them more than once just for fun.
The restaurant Luciana had picked was cozy, with vaulted brick arches, heavy wooden beams that stretched across the ceiling, and soft lighting accentuated with real candles on the table.
Matteo and the host seemed to know each other.
They spoke in Italian, and I was pretty proud of myself for understanding.
“Luciana is not here yet,” he said. “They will seat us in the meantime.”
“I know,” I said with a smile. “I actually understood.”
He put his hand on my lower back, guiding me to follow the host to a quiet table in the corner.
“La lista dei vini.” The host offered a padded leather book of the wine selections, and Matteo gestured for me to take it.
“Oh. Thank you.” I shook my head. “But I think you’re definitely the better person to pick the wine.”
Matteo handed the menu back to the host without opening it and ordered something in Italian.
This time, I couldn’t catch what he said, but it sounded sexy as hell.
That accent might just be my kryptonite.
Spreading the napkin across my lap, I glanced around the restaurant.
Everyone here seemed to be on a date. In fact, we were the only table set for more than two.
“This must be a hot date spot.”
“They have good food. And good taste in wine.” He smiled. “They carry my bottles.”
“Is that what you ordered?”
He shook his head. “I ordered a French one that is one of my favorites. It’s a small vineyard like mine, and I like to support other growers.”
Fifteen minutes passed, and there was still no sign of Luciana—not that I minded too much. Conversation with Matteo had flowed effortlessly since we first met. Plus, it was a toss-up what was more delicious, the wine or the man sitting across from me.
The host came back and leaned his hands on the empty chair. He said something about Luciana and nine fifteen, then disappeared, taking the third chair with him.
“My sister is not coming.” Matteo frowned. “Apparently, she called the restaurant and said to let us know.”
“Oh. Is everything okay?”
“I’m sure everything is fine. This is just Luciana being Luciana.”
“What do you mean?”
“Earlier, I went into the guest room where she was staying to get something from the closet, and I noticed her suitcase was gone already. I don’t think she ever intended to join us this evening.”
“You mean this is a setup?”
“I believe so.”
“Oh.”
“If it upsets you, we can go.”
“No. No.” I shook my head. “It’s fine. I just…
” I looked around the restaurant. The couple next to us was holding hands over the table.
The pair over Matteo’s shoulder had moved the chairs so they were no longer across from each other and looked mighty cozy—even if I did think sitting like that was weird.
When my gaze returned to Matteo, I realized he’d watched me assess the situation.
I nibbled on my lip. “It doesn’t mean we’re on a date just because we’re two people at a restaurant sharing a meal over candlelight, right?”
Matteo’s lip twitched. “It can mean whatever we want it to mean.”
I wasn’t sure how to take that answer, but I also wasn’t about to leave the restaurant, so I shrugged and smiled. “It’s fine.”
The waiter came to take our order, and we decided to order two meals and split them, since I couldn’t make up my mind.
“How are things going at da store?” Matteo asked once the waiter disappeared. “More cars have been visiting, yes?”
I nodded. “One of my grandmother’s friends helped me get the word out that it was open again, and I put everything on sale for 25 percent off.
I’ve sold a lot of stuff, but her back room is so packed with inventory that I keep bringing out, it doesn’t look like I’ve made a dent.
But I’ve been happy to have something to keep myself busy, so I’m not spending twenty-four hours a day thinking about my newly discovered sister. ”
“Have you made a decision on how you’ll handle that?”
I sighed. “No. But I can’t imagine being able to put it out of my head without meeting her. I have questions. And she’s the only one in the world who might be able to fill in the blanks.”
“Sometimes closure isn’t easy, but necessary.”
I sipped my wine. “I looked up where she lives on a map, and it doesn’t seem too far from the Amalfi Coast. I have something to pick up down there, a missing piece to a tea set my grandmother was collecting.
That’s in Minori, but the entire Amalfi Coast looks beautiful, so I’ve been thinking of taking a little trip. It’s about five hours, right?”
“Maybe closer to six. The roads are very winding. But I don’t recommend you drive it, not with da way you handle that stick shift.
The Amalfi Coast road has narrow lanes with sharp curves, and the drop-offs are steep.
This time of the year, there is still a lot of traffic, so it’s very stop and go, which you are not so good at yet. ”
I crossed my arms. “I’m doing much better with driving.”
“You need more than ‘much better’ when driving the Amalfi Coast. When do you plan on going?”
“I was thinking maybe next weekend, late Saturday afternoon or early on Sunday. I don’t want to disrupt the antique shop’s flow of business now that it’s picked up, but it’s closed on Sundays and Mondays. Maybe I’ll stay a night or two.”
“If you want, I will take you. You will enjoy the ride when you are not worrying about falling off side of the mountain.”
“Oh no, I can’t ask you to do that.”
“I have some business in the area myself that I’ve been putting off. I can ask Tomasso to take care of Lupo and your Agatha. He has done it before for me.”
“Are you sure?”
He nodded. “I will enjoy showing you more of my country.”
“Okay. But only if you let me pay for your room.”
“I thought we can share one,” Matteo deadpanned.
“Relax, I’m joking,” he added quickly. “But I have a cousin who has an apartment there, overlooking the sea. It has two bedrooms. He lives in Florence and only uses it when he can. I’ve stayed there before.
I will see if it is available in the upcoming weeks. ”
“Oh, wow. This almost feels like it’s meant to be.”
Matteo’s eyes roamed my face. “I agree.”
There were times when Matteo looked at me, his eyes dropping to my lips, that I felt a current, a spark, real chemistry.
But that’s not what I felt now. The moment felt romantic and warm.
And I liked it more than I should’ve—so much so that I was relieved when the appetizers arrived and he had something else to focus on.
We spent the next two and a half hours eating and talking.
Matteo told me about his harvest and the festivals that go on around Tuscany to celebrate the end of the season.
I told him about my job and how some of my clients had been asking where I went and wanted to change counsel to stay with me.
I was too stuffed for dessert, but also not ready for the night to end, so when Matteo insisted I try the tiramisu, I agreed.
The waiter set the gorgeous presentation between us and gave us two spoons.
“Uh-oh,” I said. “Does this count as eating off your plate? Are you going to stop talking to me after this?”
Matteo smiled. “No, this is sharing.”
The entire night had been easy, and Matteo had made it that way.
I liked how he took control—suggesting dishes and ordering wine—yet I never felt controlled.
There was nothing worse than a man who deferred to a woman for decisions because he couldn’t formulate his own opinions with confidence.
And I liked the way he looked at me when I talked, as if he was really interested in hearing what I had to say.
And most of all, I liked the way he looked-looked at me.
He had this uncanny ability to make me feel like we were the only two people in the room, even in a crowded restaurant.
When the bill came, Matteo immediately took it.
“I’d like to pay half,” I said.
He frowned. “No.”
I blinked. He wasn’t even going to debate it, just straight-up no. “But we agreed this wasn’t a date.”
“We agreed the evening could be whatever we want it to be.”
“Right, so it wasn’t a date.”
“For you.” He took out his wallet and produced some bills, inserting them into the padfolio. “I wanted it to be a date, so I’m paying.”
My mouth dropped open, but it only made Matteo smile.
He stood, like the conversation was over, and walked around to pull out my chair.
I must’ve needed my head examined because I kind of thought the way he’d handled it was hot.
Again, he took control of the situation, but in a good way, not a bad one.
The man could teach American men a thing or two about the difference between taking control and being controlling.
The host came over and spoke to Matteo for a few minutes, and by the time we walked out, I didn’t even care that he’d paid. “Thank you for dinner. I’ll have to pick up some knitting needles tomorrow to work on paying you back.”
He rolled his eyes, and the ride home was quiet.
Just like the other night after the club, he pulled into my drive and put the truck into park.
But unlike the other night, he didn’t linger.
He opened his door and came around to my side to let me out.
The night air smelled of my grandmother’s freesias.
Matteo walked me to the door, and I turned to face him in front of it.
“Thank you again for dinner.”
He lifted one hand and placed it on the door above my head. It made me feel caged in, yet I could still move if I wanted to. But I didn’t.
“I had a really good time,” Matteo said.
I smiled. “Me too.”
“I always have a good time when I’m with you.”
It was a cool night, and I felt the heat emanating from his body in the space between us.
The smell of freesias was overtaken by the woodsy, masculine scent of Matteo.
I took a deep breath and savored it. There were a dozen reasons why getting involved was a bad idea, yet suddenly none of them seemed important enough to walk away.
Matteo leaned down. I held my breath as he moved in slowly, bracing for a kiss. When I felt his breaths tickling my lips, I closed my eyes. But the kiss never came. Not on my mouth anyway. Instead, he gently kissed my cheek, and his mouth went to my ear.
“You’re going to have to kiss me if you want things to go any further, Allegra.” He pulled back and smiled, rubbing my bottom lip with his thumb. “When you’re ready.”
All I had to do was say the words, or even close the small gap between us and press my lips to his. I wanted to. Lord, did I want to. Yet…I stood frozen with fear.
Eventually, Matteo stepped away. “Put the light on when you get upstairs. So I know you’re safe, yes?”
I nodded, already kicking myself in the ass as I opened the door. Before shutting it, I thought better and paused. Matteo’s back was to me as he walked to his truck.
“Matteo?”
He turned to look at me.
“I wanted it to be a date, too. I’m just…afraid.”
He smiled. “I know.”