Chapter 4 #2
Mario lifted his mask away, holding it between the audience and our little party of two plus the official. He made eye contact with me. Right before he leaned in, he checked the audience. A man in the third row whistled, then cupped his hands over his mouth, “Do it, Valentine. I dare you!”
With an apology written on his face, Mario pulled me close. “Amore, Ti prometto di proteggerti con la mia vita.”
Whatever he said, it sounded perfect. I smiled as he drew closer.
The whisper-soft brush of his lips made my eyes flutter shut, and I held on to his jacket so I wouldn’t melt into a puddle.
His lips were perfection. Full, lush, supple, yet strong, and I lost the script, kissing him like there was no tomorrow and we had moments left to live.
I was breathless when he broke the kiss to stare at me in wonder. My face must have reflected the same thing because, he’d stolen my soul with that kiss. “Wow,” I breathed.
The audience broke out in laughter and then applause. I hid my face against Mario’s chest as the embarrassment set in.
With trepidation, I checked the laptop where my parents hugged each other. I swore I could hear them say, “We love you, Ellie.”
Not Allie.
That firmed my resolve. “Let’s get out of here,” I told Mario.
“With haste.”
We almost broke into a full sprint to the limo that waited outside. The wedding planner was all smiles as she yelled, “Your things are in the car, arranged just like you requested, Congratulations!”
Not that the word was necessary. We’d done it. We’d fooled the entire crowd and given them a good show.
Mario checked behind us to see if anyone followed us out. I glanced back in time to see a man rush out of the entrance of the complex and race toward our chapel exit. He faded into the distance as the limo picked up speed.
“Where to?” The driver asked.
“Atlantic Aviation, I have a plane waiting,” Mario directed.
I stared at him, taking in his profile, knowing I’d never truly have a man as handsome as he was for real. “It’s been fun, hasn’t it?”
He stared ahead, a bit lost in thought. Finally, he turned to me. “Come with me.”
In my biggest fantasies, there was always a little bit of reality grounding me.
I’d never dared to hope for someone to say to me something as impulsive as this.
I barely knew him, and had only just learned his name.
It was a ridiculous, but tempting proposition to say fuck it to everything.
My crumbled career, the therapy sessions currently rehashing my control issues, the legal challenges that followed Grandfather’s estate, the aftermath of Ellie’s relationship implosion, and most of all, facing my parents and telling them it was all an act to bail Ellie out, again.
Just once, I wanted to be the irresponsible sister and leave all the trouble behind rather than face it head-on and shoulder everyone else’s burdens.
I wanted to live the fantasy. That part asked, “Where are you going?”
“Italy.”
Wasn’t that convenient? “I’m going there, too.”
“Yes, with me, should you want to.”
I laughed. He sounded so certain. “No, I’m supposed to meet my sister at the hotel. But I need to go to the airport to switch Johnny’s ticket to mine, then we’ll leave at 11 AM to fly to Denver, then from there to Venice.”
Mario stared at me with those soft, but intense eyes. “You won’t have to switch the ticket. We’ll get there faster in my jet.”
My heart beat a little faster. Not only was he a fantasy in the flesh, but for him to be rich was right out of la-la land. I wasn’t a sucker…yet. “You own a jet?”
“It’s the company’s, but in part, yes.”
That sounded more plausible.
And crazy. He was so far out of my league. “What about Ellie?”
“She has a ticket, no? You’ll meet her there. Please?”
My heart wanted to jump out of my chest. This was huge. “Are you serious?”
“To a fault. I mean, surprisingly I am…yes.”
He sounded sincere. I wanted to open my mouth and grill him for details. Logistics. Plans. But underneath all that noise was a voice. Ellie’s. Live a little. “You’re not going to kill me, are you?”
“Absolutely not. That would be against the code.”
A code was much better than false promises. Of course, sometimes it was worse if you ran afoul of it. Was this the good kind or the bad kind? “You have a code?”
He nodded solemnly. “Yes. And upon that code, I vow you will be safe, Allie Jacobs.” His face shifted. “Probably safer than with your sister.”
I laughed, slightly relieved, and because he was right. “That’s the truth. So…Italy? Do you think I’ll beat her there?” Sue me. We’d been in competition since birth. Likely before.
“Absolutemente.”
Ding! Extra bonus, he knew the language and his accent was real. Not mangled like mine due to the online language courses I’d been taking over the years. “Are you from there?”
“My father is, so, yes.”
“Where do you live?” The real Allie was peeking out with her twenty-question quota.
“Here, there.”
That wasn’t an answer, and a tiny warning light flashed in my brain. “That’s not specific, where?”
“Mostly Liguria and Sardinia. New York when I have business there. Milan, Los Angeles, Miami, London…”
I refrained from asking something uncouth like, ‘How much money do you have?’ That would be countered with how much money do you have? Which right now could be summed up with, “None I wanted to touch.”
And I really couldn’t answer the questions that statement would trigger.
Grandfather’s trust gave me an allowance that was generous, but I refused to do what Ellie did and spend it willy-nilly as soon as it hit my fingertips.
I was saving. For what, I didn’t know. Hopefully, a small farm, a private practice, some place where no one knew who my grandfather was, or at least didn’t care if he’d been the mob’s accountant.
And hopefully in a secure enough location that a sudden catastrophe wouldn’t would rip that private and peaceful life away from me.
Maybe I couldn’t accept the money was real because I knew there was no escape from the source of it.
The limo pulled into the private airlines’ terminal. Mario got out with the driver and sent him into the terminal to arrange the flight. Then Mario paced around the car. If I were Ellie, I’d be taking notes about the sculptural perfection of his ass. But I refrained, instead texting on my phone.
“El, I have to do something. I’m sorry. I WILL meet you in Venice. Cash in the extra ticket.”
A second later, my phone buzzed with a text from Ellie.
“You BETTER meet me there, or I’m calling Mom.”
I shot back a reply,
“I will. Slight detour. Will you be okay by yourself?”
“Aren’t I always? Don’t strain yourself by worrying about me.”
I texted back another apology, but she didn’t reply. Her usual M.O. when I’d pissed her off. I tucked the phone back into my tote bag. Was I truly considering this?
Yes. I meant it when I told my sister I had to do this. I’d regret it if I didn’t, and I was tired of regretting things. I sent Mario a nod and a thumbs up through the window.
Then, I took inventory. My bridesmaid’s dress was zippered up in a bag provided by the venue. It draped across the seat opposite me. Did I have any other clothing? I didn’t want to put that back on.
“Oh shit,” I muttered and frantically dug in the tote I’d packed for the wedding center.
Double shit. I hadn’t planned for more than essential items to help Ellie, and a comfortable change of clothing for me once the ceremony was complete.
Ellie’s bag was bound to be much worse. Maybe I’d luck out, and she packed dresses in the lonely carry-on in the trunk.
“Is everything okay?” Mario leaned in the open door.
“I have one change of clothes, and whatever Ellie packed, if you don’t count these.” I motioned to myself and the dress in the bag.
He smiled and slipped into the seat next to me.
“We’ll fix that. In eleven hours or so, we’ll land in the fashion capital of the world.
I’m sure you’ll find everything you need.
” He tried to return his face to the stoic mask he’d had on when talking to the driver, but his cheek quirked into a little dimple.
Mario Valentini had a dimple. I fought the urge to fan myself.
The driver returned and pulled the car around to the back of the building.
He parked beside a rather large plane that had the passenger stairs readied for boarding.
The driver opened the door for us, and stewards from the flight company took my bags to a loading hatch at the back of the plane. “I need that tote—”
Mario steered me toward the stairs connecting to the front.
“I need my bag.”
“Don’t worry. You’ll have access to it.”
I wanted to protest, but there were people ushering us onto the jet and fussing over the preparations to depart. A man from the airline staff stood at the top of the stairs.
“Mr. Valentini, the pilots are ready. The plane is prepared. You have a crew of five, and your things are in the stateroom storage. Edward sends his regards.” He noticed me, the dress I wore, and added, “And this beautiful woman is?”
“My wife.”
The attendant’s mouth opened and shut. “I see. Congratulations.” With that, he stepped to the side of the jet stairs, and allowed us to enter.
“I’m not your wife,” I whispered to Mario, then smiled at a female attendant who led us to a grouping of four seats.
Beyond them was a table with seating room for four comfortably.
A third section filled the back of the cabin, which had a couch and another set of two chairs facing each other.
“Where’s my bag?” I scanned the seats for signs of it.
“This way, Mrs. Valentini.”
At her honorific, I shot a glare at Mario.
He smiled slyly and stepped aside so the stewardess could lead me to the back.
Beyond the last section with the couch and two chairs was a door leading to the largest airplane bathroom I’d ever seen.
It came complete with a little window next to the sink that had its own makeup mirror to the left, and through one more sliding door, my things were piled neatly on shelves, and the bridesmaid dress and the empty bag for the dress I was wearing were hanging in a small closet.
There were two suits hung there as well.
I fingered them one at a time. One was silk and the other, a very fine wool. Nice.
The stewardess opened a couple of drawers in the bathroom showing me where extra toothbrushes and all the accompanying necessaries were. “I hope you enjoy your flight, did you want coffee, wine… champagne?”
What the hell. While I was being impulsive, I might as well milk this for all it was worth, because when the bubble burst, I’d regret not taking full advantage of the situation. “Champagne.”
“Excellent choice.” She dipped her head and left me alone to marvel at the incredibly useful and yet brazenly opulent space.
“I’ve died and gone to heaven.” That was the only explanation for all of this.
“Allie?” Mario broke into my reverie with a light knock on the open door to the bathroom. “We need to depart. The tower has cleared the flight.”
“I’m going to Italy.” In style.