4. Chapter 4
Benson
“Bens! You made it!” The shout from my old client and longtime friend carries across the hotel lobby, full of energy I wish I had.
I fall into Riccardo’s boisterous embrace with a laugh, though I am desperate to go up to my room and take a nap. Two days of no sleep? Not great. But I didn’t tell Riccardo I was coming, so it’s a good thing I ran into him here so he knows to include me in all the events of the week. “Hey, man.”
“Dude, I was just telling Siena how much it sucked that you weren’t going to be able to get away, but she said you would pull off some miracle like you always do and…”
I tune him out—the guy has always been a nonstop talker—and look for Avery out of the corner of my eye.
She’s at the front counter, deep in discussion with the woman behind the desk, and neither looks like they’re having a good time.
In fact, with her furrowed brow and pursed lips, Avery looks like she might burst into tears again, which is a far cry from the woman full of wonder I got to hold in my lap for a few minutes during the drive from the airport.
“Hey, hold on a sec, Ricky,” I say, interrupting him mid-sentence.
Though he nods, he doesn’t stop talking, switching instead to talk to another guy in the lobby I don’t recognize.
Rolling my eyes at his ridiculousness, I cross the lobby to the desk and try to catch the gist of the conversation.
The hotel receptionist doesn’t have great English, and Avery clearly doesn’t speak a lick of Italian, and neither seems to be getting anywhere.
“But I booked this months ago!” Avery says, holding her phone toward the receptionist. “Here’s the confirmation number.”
“Sì,” the receptionist says. Giulia , according to her nametag. “You do not…” She waves her hand, searching for the word. “…say yes.”
“But I did say yes! I put down a deposit. I very much said yes.”
I step forward, and both women shift their attention to me so fully that I almost turn right back around to escape it.
I’m blaming this uncharacteristic shyness on my lack of sleep and food that doesn’t come out of a plastic container.
Shaking my head clear of whatever intimidation just hit me, I offer a smile, then turn to Giulia.
“ Ciao , Giulia,” I say brightly, then ask her what the problem is in Italian. I can’t claim fluency, but I know enough to get through a conversation.
Giulia sags with relief, throwing a nervous glance to Avery. “She didn’t confirm her room and her deposit has been returned to her,” she says in Italian. “We are fully booked, and I don’t have anywhere to put her.”
I wince but quickly shift my expression back to calm and carefree. “Nothing?”
“No. With the wedding, all of the rooms are taken.”
“What’s she saying?” Avery asks, leaning so close that I catch a whiff of…
something. Her hair, maybe? It’s an incredible smell.
Sweet and subtle. Peaches, I think. I smelled it in the taxi too, and I had to roll down the window to get some fresh air before I did something impulsive.
Though, it didn’t stop me from playing with her hair, something I inexplicably want to do again.
“You didn’t confirm the room,” I tell her, hating that I get to be the bearer of bad news when I’d rather be the dashing hero again.
Now that she’s no longer tear-streaked and puffy—I suspect she spent a decent amount of time in the bathroom at the airport making herself look bright and chipper again—she’s prettier than I thought on the plane.
I nearly gave Enzo a heart attack when I shouted at him to stop the taxi the moment I caught sight of Avery in the line of tourists, but I couldn’t help myself. Something about her…
Avery’s eyes go wide, filling with tears at the same time. “Oh no,” she whispers, looking down at her phone. “Is that a thing I was supposed to do? I thought for sure I did that!”
“If you booked it out far enough, it was probably a way to make sure you still wanted the room,” I say with a shrug.
Suddenly I worry I’m the one who took her room, since mine was a last-minute booking.
As guilt pools in my belly, I try to come up with some solutions before she freaks out.
I’m good at solutions. That’s my whole job.
“There are plenty of hotels in Florence, Avery. I’m sure you can…
” My words trail off when I catch sight of Giulia’s wide eyes and slight shake of her head.
I should have guessed from the line of people waiting for a taxi that this is a popular week to visit Florence.
If it had been earlier in the month, the city would have been quieter with a lot of the locals off celebrating Ferragosto, the height of summer, but that doesn’t help us now.
“No open rooms?” I ask Giulia in Italian.
“Maybe on the outskirts of the city. But I do not recommend…”
“She’s not saying anything good, is she?
” Avery asks, leaning in so now her arm is pressed to mine.
Given the first impression I got of her, I wouldn’t have expected her to touch me, but this is the third time I’ve been in close contact with this woman and she is…
compelling? That’s not the right word, and interesting doesn’t do her justice. Intoxicating is too much.
Intriguing . Avery is intriguing, and she might be a great addition to this wedding week.
But if I’m going to spend more time with her and see whether she’s the woman who plans minute by minute or the one who climbs over a stranger to admire a cathedral, I can’t have her in some sketchy hotel on the other side of the city.
“Give her my room,” I tell Giulia, once again in Italian. Hopefully I can swing this in a way that doesn’t clue Avery in to what I’m doing. “Benson West.” Avery lifts an eyebrow when I say my name, but I ignore her, keeping my focus on Giulia as she looks up my reservation.
“You want to give up your room, signore?” she asks, clearly skeptical of my Italian abilities because she speaks so slowly that even Avery might catch a few words here and there. “But you are in the wedding party, no?”
“I can stay in someone else’s room with them.
There will be a spot somewhere.” There had better be a spot.
I don’t know much about Riccardo’s friends—we met through business avenues and haven’t spent much time together over the last several years outside phone calls and video chats—but I can make this work. “It’ll be fine.”
“Are you certain?” Giulia asks again.
“She needs it more than I do,” I say, gesturing to Avery with my head. I offer Giulia a broad smile that will hopefully help her believe that I fully mean what I’m telling her.
As a blush slides up her cheeks, Giulia makes a few clicks, her eyes darting from her computer to me multiple times. Maybe I overdid it with the smile. But hey, if it gets us what I need, then whatever. “Sì?” she asks once more, and when I nod, she slides a key across the counter to Avery.
Avery’s eyes go wide. “Wait, is that mine?”
“Turns out it was a glitch in the computer system,” I say, which is a total lie and I’m pretty sure Avery knows it. But she wraps her fingers around the key with a look that tells me I might be about to get a particularly nice thank you.
“Benson,” she whispers. “Whatever you did, thank you.”
“Computer glitch,” I say again.
She throws her arms around my shoulders, her whole body pressing into me as she hugs me tightly.
Though I expected something like this, her enthusiasm still catches me off guard enough that I barely manage to return the gesture before she’s pulling away.
“You are seriously my hero today. How can I repay you? Buy you dinner tonight?”
I glance across the lobby, where Riccardo and his fiancée are now watching me with unabashed interest. They’re going to have questions, and I’m not sure I’ll have the answers. I’m not usually the hero type, so this little act of selflessness is going to be hard to explain. “Uh, rain check?”
Her cheeks bloom with color, and she also looks over at Riccardo, likely realizing we have an audience. “Oh, yeah. Of course. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”
“Sure.” Unless there are absolutely no beds in this hotel and I have to find out why Giulia was so worried about sending Avery somewhere else.
“Thanks again!” With a wave, Avery grabs her multitude of luggage and heads for the elevator, where she can barely fit with all her stuff.
“ Grazie ,” I tell Giulia, sliding a twenty-Euro note across the counter. “You are an angel.”
Though she hasn’t lost her blush, Giulia’s gaze is less heated than it was before.
Avery’s display must have dampened her interest, which is a good thing.
Unless I need her to find me a place to sleep.
“ Prego ,” she says. “Good luck. If you need anything, Mr. West…” She leaves that open ended, and a bit of invitation enters her gaze.
I can’t help but smile at her as I heft my bag onto my shoulder and head back to where Riccardo is eagerly waiting for me. Thankfully, Siena is talking to one of the hotel staff now, so I’ll only have to endure one person’s interrogation.
“Benson West,” he says, clucking his tongue. “Really playing the field, aren’t you? Who was that? Backup in case the receptionist doesn’t go for your charm?”
“Everyone goes for my charm,” I say with a chuckle. “She’s just a woman I met on the plane and needed some help with something. And no, I’m not about to go after the receptionist at the hotel where I’m staying. Speaking of, I find myself without a room, and I’m hoping you can help me.”
“You flew all the way to Italy and don’t have a room? I knew you were crazy, but that’s next level.”