Chapter 10
I t’s mill day. I never thought I’d be excited about a fucking excursion but here we are. Over the last few days, we’ve worked the ground and finished testing the soil. I’ve tasted how revolting an unripe olive is and started to enjoy this whole thing. Today is when I get to tour the mill they use to produce the olive oil and I feel like a kid going on a field trip. My shower is brief, clothing tugged on and breakfast scarfed down. Giuliana has been out since sunrise, preparing the workers for her absence, and I decide to take a walk around the grounds while I wait for her.
From my vantage point near the top of one of the hills a plume of dust rises from the road, a car heading this way. The sign still hasn’t been put up, so if anyone is looking for Abundantia they’re going to have a hell of a time without GPS.
Weaving between trees toward the main road, I stumble my way downslope as fast as I can. By the time I make it down the car is almost upon me. Stepping out into the road, I flag it down with a wave of my arms. The car skids to a stop beside me—gravel and dust kicked up by the wheels clinging to my skin and irritating my throat. The window gives a soft whirr as it disappears down into the door and a friendly face smiles up at me.
“Hi, you don’t happen to speak English, do you?” he asks in an American accent, my relieved sigh leaving my body in a huff. Shit. What if he’d been Italian? I keep taking people understanding me for granted.
“Yeah, I do. How can I help you?”
This is fortuitous for him considering my own arrival and how subsequent weeks have been comprised of a lot of broken Italian and English, and hand gestures. It never occurred to me I might miss hearing a familiar accent so soon.
“I’m looking for Abundantia. ”
I lean my hand against the top of the car, looking down into the window to try and get a read on him. He’s around my age, perhaps a little younger, blonde with freckles dotting his tanned skin. Something about him screams West Coast.
“Well, you’ve found it. I’m heading back to the house myself, mind if I catch a ride with you?”
A smile spreads across his face and he leans over, opening the passenger door for me to hop in. Once I’m seated, he reaches out a hand for me to shake, and I take inordinate pride in knowing mine feels work-roughened where it meets his smooth palm.
“I’m Cameron.”
“Matteo, nice to meet you.”
The car rumbles down the drive, swirling dust trailing us and I can’t help but wonder if rain will settle it soon or if the whole summer will be this dry. Rainfall never concerned me before but all Giuliana’s talk of the soil and growing conditions is at the forefront of my mind.
“How long have you been on this side of the world?” Cameron asks.
“A few weeks. I’ll be here through the summer.”
“No shit. Same here.”
Huh. I mean if he’s college-aged he might be backpacking for the summer break. But something sits uncomfortably at the base of my stomach. “What do you think of it? Italy, I mean.”
Cameron’s mouth tilts into a lopsided smile and he looks me over, as if to decide whether or not to share.
“Italian girls…” He shakes his head. “Man, it’s been wild. I would have come sooner but I couldn’t turn down the opportunity.” Smirking now, his implication leaves little to the imagination and I give a breathless chuckle as we pull up to the house.
Cameron wastes no time getting out of the car and unease bubbles up inside me. Why exactly is he here?
“Are they expecting you?” I follow behind him as he forges into the house without a second thought. Perhaps he’s been here before?
“Yeah, I’m working here this summer, though I suppose I’m a little late. But Umberto assured me it’s not a big deal I was… delayed.”
Umberto, huh?
Heat rises in my stomach. Anger, I realize. This man deterred plans he’d agreed to—plans Giuliana needed him for—just for a fuck and it bothers me. It’s hypocritical of me to care since my trip started in much the same way. Seeing it reflected in him and hearing it from someone else’s lips—it pisses me off.
“I’ll let them know you’re here,” I grit out, trying to keep my composure.
Fuck. How the hell am I going to get rid of him? One word from him and Giuliana will know I lied.
Can’t believe you missed it. You should have known he was the volunteer. It’s not like this place is crawling with Americans.
Perhaps I can get ahead of it if I explain…
Yeah sure. Just tell her ‘Sorry, Giuliana.’ Explain how you’ve been lying for weeks. She’s been housing an imposter who’s here to steal her livelihood from her. That’s going to go over so well, asshole.
Giuliana is at her desk, bent over her work with eyebrows furrowed in concentration. It takes me clearing my throat for her to look up. Blush stains her cheeks and she gives me a sheepish smile.
“What time is it?”
“Not sure.” I swallow heavily. “But there’s someone here to see you. His name is Cameron and he’s under the impression he’s working here this summer. Apparently, he’s been in contact with someone named Umberto, or was sent here by Umberto. It’s not very clear.”
I’m almost sad when her little smile hardens. The stone of nerves in my stomach does the same. Heaviness and dread hang low and my anxiety rises higher than it has since my birthday party.
Cameron walks closer down the hallway and the fact he’s followed me in without invitation incenses me. Footsteps echo in the suspended breath between me and Giuliana, until I can feel Cameron’s presence behind me.
I should say more. Before it’s too late.
“Thank you, Matteo. I’ll be out soon, if you’d step aside for our guest.” ‘Guest’ sounds anything but welcome falling from her lips and I see Cameron’s swagger falter for a moment as he steps past me into the room.
“If you’d be so kind as to shut the door behind you on the way out,” Giuliana bids me and I obey.
I should wait out front, and afford them privacy. But as usual I’m shameless. Pressing my ear against the door I pray for a miracle.
“I have an agreement with the owner—with Umberto. He organized for me to spend the summer and learn about the olive grove. I need practical experience for the last semester of my agricultural degree.”
Ah, college student. I was right.
“Well, Cameron… I’m the owner, not Umberto. And he no longer works here. So, whatever agreement you might have had before is null and void. When was the last time you spoke to him?”
“This morning. He knew I would be a week or so late but he assured me it wouldn’t be an issue if I was. I got the impression it was preferred. Umberto mentioned the program wasn’t ready yet and to give him time to get it together. I assumed I’d be reporting to him…”
Well shit. Seems I wasn’t the only one trying to sabotage Giuliana and her venture. Umberto had his own ulterior motives and plans. Is Cameron a plant? My brain jumps to a stupid quote about having a nickel for every time this has happened…
Giuliana would have two nickels, which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it’s happened twice.
“I can’t believe he would stoop so low.” She mutters, her voice getting closer and closer until it sounds like she’s right beside the door. “Your services aren’t needed. And you can tell Umberto the next time he tries to fuck with my business he better have the balls to do it himself! I am done talking.”
Anger colors her tone and I’m glad to be on this side of the door, away from what I’m sure is her stunning wrath. I take a few steps back, in case.
The door swings open, thudding against the wall. Gesturing for him to leave, Giuliana stares him down until he gets moving. Cameron sputters, his freckles disappearing behind the redness creeping up his face, and some part of me takes malicious joy in seeing it.
“You can’t—this is bullshit.” He stalks toward Giuliana and looms over her.
Oh no, he better not even think about it. I open my mouth and Thomas Palmer comes out. “This is business . She said she’s done talking. Now get off her property before I call the cops.”
My hand is in my pocket, pulling out my phone as if to emphasize how serious I am about this. Inside, I’m shaking.
“What the fuck am I supposed to do now?” Cameron spits at her but Giuliana doesn’t look up… doesn’t even move a muscle. Her glare is filled with ice and I can’t believe his audacity—I’d have withered by now.
“You’re a college boy, you’re smart. Figure it out. Away from here. If any of the workers see you here again, we’ll have you arrested for trespassing.” I try to inject as much authority into my voice as I can, channeling my father, my brows drawn down into severe slashes to bring it all home.
Shoving past me, Cameron shoulder checks me and I stumble back a step. Cursing echoes down the hall as he storms out and I hope Chiara isn’t nearby to hear it.
“I—I’ll be outside in a moment.” Giuliana’s voice breaks through the focus I’m putting toward burning holes into Cameron’s back with my eyes.
“Are you okay?”
The anger from earlier has drained from her body and her cheeks are pale. Those rich brown eyes are lackluster and her breath catches in her chest as she inhales.
“No. To be honest, I’m not okay. Umberto is like a thorn in my side that I can’t get out. Thank goodness you arrived early or his imposter volunteer might have messed everything up. Can you imagine if he got here first and I sent you away mistakenly?” She sighs and guilt burns up the back of my neck along with the flush. Giuliana has it backwards but I’m not about to correct her.
“We’re running late though, and Arturo is not going to be pleased if we waste his time by making him wait. The last thing I need is to piss him off before harvest.” Giuliana runs her hand through her hair, those silky strands falling back into place ever-so-slightly mussed, and I’m struck by just how much I love her hair. But she’s stressed and now is not the time.
Pushing is a bad idea. So, I nod and fight the urge to gather her into a big hug.
“I’ll be waiting outside whenever you’re ready.”
Truthfully, I’m relieved. Somehow, I escaped my fears around this situation—around my duplicity.
By the skin of your fucking teeth.
The weight sitting on me these last few weeks, since the start of my ruse, eases. Not all the way. I know I’m not in the clear, but at least I can stop looking over my shoulder for someone to shout that I’m an imposter.
The wait is minimal but Giuliana gives me a tired look when she sees me leaning up against her little Fiat. “Well, get your butt in the car.”
Settling into the passenger seat, I try not to think about how close we are in the tiny vehicle. Our arms are scant inches away from each other. It would be nothing for me to rest my hand on the inside of her leg. Or to brush my thumb over her lush thigh.
“Do you have to stare?”
It’s clipped, irritated, and although she’s right—I have been staring—I don’t want to admit what’s on my mind.
“I don’t have to. I like to.”
“ Matteo …” A blush creeps up her neck, and her mouth is soft around the shape of my name.
“Yes, gorgeous.”
Her head whips over to me, my prodding pushing her out of her shell. The red seeping into her cheeks spreads to the tips of her ears as she blushes. Whether in anger or embarrassment I don’t know. I relish it all the same.
“What have I told you about that? We’re supposed to be colleagues and this is a professional relationship. Gravina was a one-time thing.”
“It’s not my fault it’s the only way I can get a rise out of you. You’re in work mode all the time and that asshole fucked with your mood. I just want to make sure you’re getting a little dose of fun and teasing outside of it all.”
She sighs, the fight leaving her body—her knee brushes against mine and my stomach flutters. Although Giuliana stares ahead as she drives, I catch the way her hands tighten on the wheel and she worries her bottom lip between her teeth before she speaks—as if deciding whether or not to speak at all.
“I wish I was free to tease—regardless of if I want to or not, I can’t. It’s important that this season goes well. It’s my first harvest without my father and all eyes are on me—waiting for me to fail. It’s an insane amount of pressure. Sorry, I’m just trying to do my best. Teasing isn’t high on my list of priorities.”
Giuliana doesn’t look at me as the countryside blurs past us. I wish I could reach over and cover her hand with mine, pry those clasped-too-tight fingers from the wheel so the skin around her knuckles isn’t quite so strained. And then I’d kiss every individual knuckle until I heard her breathe properly. She’s so intense—taut. I worry that all it will take is one wrong tug and she’ll fray.
“I understand, and you’re doing a great job. I just kind of miss how sassy you were with me on our first day.”
This time she turns and I see just how close she looks to cracking under the pressure. Her brows are puckered, her lush lips downturned. Fuck, I wish she wasn’t a punch to the gut every time we latch eyes. Giuliana Santoro makes it so hard to try and stay focused.
“Well, you’re going to have to keep missing it. I can’t afford to fuck this up, Matteo. Please.”
There’s more to it. I know there is. With the open road stretching between us and Arturo’s mill, I take a chance. “You said there’s eyes on you waiting for you to fail. Are you talking about Umberto?”
Her eyes stay locked on the road and the impression of Italy moves past me without notice—just a haze of blacktop and sunny fields.
“Umberto got used to being my father’s right-hand-man. I got used to him being around. When my father’s illness worsened too much to ignore, we ran the grove together and grew… close. It wasn’t until after I inherited that his ugly side came out.”
Every time she shifts gears on the car the back of her hand brushes against my leg. I try to ignore it to pay attention but I’m a weak man. It takes a few deep breaths before I’m able to speak unaffectedly.
“His ugly side?”
“My father borrowed money from him… money I knew nothing about. When it became clear he wasn’t inheriting anything or getting to the grove through me, he demanded repayment.”
Between her father lying about being sick, borrowing money, and Umberto lying about his intentions, it’s no wonder Giuliana is trying to keep herself aloof.
“I was able to get a loan by using part of the grove as collateral. At least the bank won’t try to salt my land or plant spies.”
“He tried to salt the land?” My outrage bursts through my lips.
“When I broke it off and made it clear I wouldn’t let anyone, under any circumstances, dictate how I run the grove… especially not a small-dicked coward who exploited my father during his illness and crawled into my bed to control me.”
White-knuckled, the leather of the steering wheel creaks under her grip. Still, despite being upset she’s got it reigned in enough that she’s only going slightly over the speed limit.
“One of the workers who stayed found him drilling holes into the roots of a few trees and pouring a heavy salt solution into them. The salt stress would have taken a while but it’d ruin the harvest and kill the trees within a few weeks. He ran off and by the time the police came he was long gone. Unfortunately, it was too dark to guarantee he was the culprit and with no physical evidence tying him to the attempted sabotage, the police couldn’t do anything.”
And here you are to sabotage her. No better than Umberto.
Fuck off. It’s not the same. It’s not personal. I’m not trying to hurt her.
Seems pretty personal when you’re drooling over her half the time.
“What was he doing at the grove the day I arrived?” I shove my inner asshole to the back of my mind.
“He was upset I was able to pay him back and came to enquire how I’d done it. Instead of answering, I vowed that the next time he sets foot on my land, I’ll be calling the police to have him arrested. Umberto must have believed me enough to send Cameron instead.”
No wonder the asshole shoulder checked me. If I’d known what I know now I would have given him hell for it. “Did he know about the ideas you have for the grove? You said something about a business plan.”
“Just the volunteer portion. Initially it was supposed to happen in a few years and be my way for women and underprivileged people to learn about the industry. When he left with those men loyal to him, I sped up the timeline. He doesn’t know about my ideas for a scholarship program, which is my ultimate goal.”
Giuliana’s lips fold into an unhappy line—her eyes shadowed by Umberto’s betrayal.
Unable to resist, I rest my hand on top of her tight-fisted grip on the steering wheel so she loosens her hold into something less aggressive. It’s whisper soft, the touch so light it tickles my palm.
“Fuck him. I’m here to help. Besides, you’ve got steel in that spine of yours. No man who stands against you will prosper.”
Not even you?
“Are you paraphrasing the bible?”
Shit. Am I? I co-opt so many phrases it’s hard to keep track of their origin.
“Possibly. Hard to know since I’m not religious. It’s either the bible or Shakespeare. My point stands.” And my touch remains.
“Matteo.”
I raise my hands in mock surrender, mourning the loss of contact. Giuliana gives me a small smile before shaking her head at me.
“I’m going to do what it takes to make you feel better but I’ll try to be on my best behavior. At least for the rest of this mill visit.”
Whether she knows I’m lying or not she doesn’t say anything. The quiet stretches between us for the rest of the drive—comfortable, like a wood floor warmed by the sun.