Chapter 7 #2
“You are the funniest guy. I know you didn’t mean it like that. But thanks for letting me get comfortable. Like I said, it’s been a long week.” She looked around and asked, “Where’s MJ?”
“Oh, she’s at Mom’s for the night. Girls’ night and all. Something about Korean face masks and a movie marathon. Said to tell you hello and how much she loved the pillows. It was really great of you to remember all those things.”
“That makes me so happy. I love when things come together like that.”
“You say it like you didn’t have anything to do with it. This was all you, Vicky. You’re very good at what you do. You seem to look deeper than most would.”
“Think so?”
I took a step closer to her. We hadn’t made it out of the entryway, but something about the mix of joy and uncertainty in her voice made me want to be closer to her. Convince her of how much of an impact her talent had already had on our home.
“Yes, I do. It’s evident that you care deeply about the people you work with. You…I don’t know? You see them. That’s rare.”
She took a breath and nodded. “It’s what’s important to me. To see them, understand them. To make their home a sanctuary. A safe place.”
I didn’t remember taking another step closer, but she was now within my grasp, and my fingers flexed with the tension of wanting to be near her.
“Do you have that? A place that’s your sanctuary?” I asked, my voice lowered, my eyes scanning hers. Her beautiful face softened as she spoke. I forced myself to listen because it was important, but her amber eyes and pert, slightly turned-up nose fought for my attention.
“I do. My home in Rome. Places like the Trevi fountain. The Vatican Gardens.”
Coming to myself, I took a step back and gestured for her to go inside as I laid her bag on the table near the door. When she walked into the living room, she gasped.
“Oh, Miles, the pictures you sent didn’t do it justice.” She spun around, eyes as wide as her smile. “It’s…”
“Perfect. I can only imagine what you could do when given actual direction,” I said with a chuckle.
She spun around, moving a side table closer to the sofa, letting her finger glide over a framed photo of MJ and me before turning back to me.
“Would you like something to drink? I ordered some food for us. Wasn’t sure if you had plans for dinner, and I kept forgetting to text,” I said.
“No, no plans. It shouldn’t take long to go through my sketches, though, so don’t feel obligated to feed me again,” she said, her eyes earnest.
“It’s no trouble at all. I’m the one who dragged you all the way out to Coronado when you work and live in the city.
It’s my thanks for accommodating me. Again, I’m a tech guy, so this is all new for me.
Thought it would be easier for me to visualize your ideas here at home.
Anyway, I’ve got soda, water, kombucha, orange juice. ”
Vicky nodded and said, “No trouble at all. It’s really beautiful out here. Reminds me of the Amalfi Coast with the boulders and beach. Oh, and water is fine, but I’m intrigued about the kombucha.”
“Yeah, Leyla, the CEO at Luke’s company, got us all hooked on it. It’s fermented tea in different flavors. Good for the digestion,” I answered, walking toward the kitchen. With the open concept, I could still hear and see her as she looked around the living room.
Vicky snickered and said, "You remind me of my Mama. She loves fennel tea for the digestion.” She emphasized “the” with obvious amusement.
Opening the refrigerator and grabbing a water and a watermelon kombucha, I turned to face her, placing my hand on my hip and answered, “Um, are you calling me old?” Her giggle made me ridiculously happy. “I’m only thirty-two, I’ll have you know.”
I couldn’t read the expression that crossed her face, erasing her laughter, but it was gone so quickly I thought I’d made a mistake. But when her smile returned, it wasn’t as genuine as a moment before.
Getting a glass, I carried the three items to the oak coffee table in front of the sofa where she had sat.
“Here, try some,” I said, placing it all on the table.
I handed her the water bottle before opening the kombucha.
The loud hiss made her eyebrows raise, and she watched intently as I poured some of the drink into the glass.
She put the water bottle down and lifted the glass, inspecting it before taking a smell.
“Interesting. Smells a bit sour.” Sipping it hesistantly, her eyes widened. “Mmm, that’s actually pretty good. Thanks, old man.”
I nearly choked on my sip from the bottle. “You did not just call me that,” I said with mock horror, my voice deepening.
She giggled again and finished the kombucha in one long gulp. “Whoa, I shouldn’t have chugged it like that.” Her eyes watered for a moment as she took a deep breath.
Pointing the bottle at her, I said, “Ha! That’s what you get for making fun of me.”
Placing the glass down, she turned to face me. “I’m twenty-four, by the way,” she said sheepishly, her fingers twisting the tie on her dress.
Nodding, I answered, “Yeah, I know. I asked about you after your brother’s wedding.”
Her expressive eyes widened. “You did?”
It struck me how she asked that as if it were a ridiculous idea.
Turning my body to mirror hers and facing her, I said, “Yeah, I did. I heard your friends talking about how you’d just graduated from university, so I had an idea.
Luke confirmed it later. Vicky, you’re a beautiful woman, and I couldn’t help but be intrigued.
” The blush that spread across her cheeks made me ridiculously happy.
But I noticed she held her arms in a way that seemed to cover her waist, and I wondered why.
“Thank you, Miles. That’s very kind of you to say.” There was a beat of silence as we gazed at each other. Then her brother’s words came back to me as my smile slid off my face.
“But I know you’re here to start your career, and I’ll do everything in my power to help you with that. I hope we can be friends. I want you to know our family is here for you if you ever need anything. We promised Enzo…”
She cut me off with a gasp so loud, I thought she was in pain as I tried to assess what was happening.
“My, my brother Enzo? You talked to him?” she asked, her voice rising an octave. The redness in her cheeks now traced down her neck and spread into her chest.
“Ah, yeah. Vicky, are you okay?” I asked, straightening out in my seat at her reaction.
She closed her eyes, seeming in pain. “Tell me what he said.” Her voice was unusually stern, and I swallowed before answering.
“It was just a text. To Luke and me the other day.
Just your brother being protective. He asked us to watch out for you, that's all. Told us how important this job was and to keep you focused.” My voice trailed off at the end as I watched her expression go from embarrassment to what looked like rage.
She suddenly stood up, causing the coffee table to move slightly.
She paced the living room, speaking rapidly in Italian with her hands gesturing wildly.
I wanted to ask what she was saying, but I thought it was better not to know.
My grandparents were Italian, so I caught a few things.
Something about cutting off body parts. She was terrifying.
“Ugh! I’m going to kill him. How could he do that?” she exclaimed, switching back to English, her eyes wild, her face bright red. “I’m a grown woman, with a job, living in another country, and still he treats me like a child.”
Standing up and walking to her in two long strides, I touched her elbow to stop her from moving.
“Of course you are. I don’t have a sister, but I’m sure it’s much like how I feel about MJ.
Guys can’t help but feel protective over those they love, especially the women in their lives.
” Her breath was coming out as if she’d run a race.
Closing her eyes and taking a steadying breath as she hung her head, she softly said, “Thanks for at least saying I’m a woman and not a little girl.”
I answered unwaveringly, “You’re not a little girl, Victoria Lazzara. Not to me.” I knew I shouldn’t say these things, but the need to support her overtook my rational mind.
She slowly brought her head up and opened her eyes until they found mine. Those almond-shaped eyes that burned with rage a few minutes ago now had a different kind of fire in them. It nearly took my breath away.
“I’m not. I can be shy and a bit na?ve, but I’m not a child.
If only Enzo and Mama could see that. See my strengths.
There are hopes and dreams that live in my heart.
Things I want to see and experience. But they would be happy for me to live a very small, provincial life in Rome, where they can watch over me, keep me safe. ”
Squeezing her arm, I firmly said, “But you’re doing that. Right now, right here. Showing them you can achieve those dreams, go on adventures, be independent. You’re doing it.”
Nodding slowly, she replied, “Yeah, you’re right. I am. And I love it. Every minute of it.” She turned and sat down on the sofa, suddenly looking spent; her body seemed to fold in on itself. I followed but kept my distance, my hand cold from the loss of her touch.
Grabbing a pillow from behind her and hugging it to her chest, she spoke quietly.
“I love Mama and Enzo dearly, fiercely.” Her eyes were focused on a spot on the floor in front of her, as if looking at me was too difficult. I wanted to give her this space to just speak her heart, so I stayed quiet and waited.
When I nodded my head, she continued. “But I want to be treated like an adult. It’s like I never moved on from being five years old with pigtails, you know?”
“I bet you were cute with those pigtails,” I joked, dipping my head to see her eyes.
When she looked at me, her gorgeous eyes were brimming with tears, breaking my heart.
I reached for her, unable to stop myself, and put my hand over hers that rested on the sofa.
There was a comfort level with her that felt so right and the way she was opening up to me, made it was apparent it was mutual.
“My father, he was my best friend. I’m still healing from the loss, but God has walked me through that, every step of the way.
Enzo confided in me that Papa had never told him he was proud of him.
” She huffed out a laugh. “He never said it to me either, but I knew, you know? I knew he was because he saw me. Can’t explain it, but he saw me in a way even Mama and Enzo haven’t. ”
“That’s a special thing for you to have had with him. I know I try every day to do the same with MJ. To see and accept her.”
She nodded and was quiet for a few minutes.
“You said you liked how I saw you, you and MJ. Saw what you needed. But with Papa not here, I don’t know.
Sometimes I wonder who sees me?” The last sentence came out as a whisper as a lone tear tracked down her cheek, still pink from her impassioned speech.
It took everything in me not to drag her into my arms. I held myself back but couldn’t help reaching out with my thumb and wiping away her tear, causing her eyes to blink shut.
“I do. I see you,” I whispered. “I see your quiet strength. Your ability to care for people, care about what’s important to them, and that’s only after knowing you for just an evening. I can’t imagine what else I’ll find out about you.”
There was a growing tension between us, like an electrical storm sparking in the air as she stared at me.
What was this power she had over me, over my mind, over my good senses?
I was in uncharted waters, feeling overwhelmed by the ocean of her eyes and her intoxicating scent.
I’d been here before—falling too quickly, too hard, and hadn’t felt this with any woman since then.
But despite my protests, I knew this was different from Katy.
Vicky had a depth that set her apart. The age difference didn’t bother me at all, but Enzo did.
This unexpected connection was against all his wishes.
My desire to see her succeed and follow the dreams she just alluded to weighed on me.
But against my better judgment, I wanted to be the one to share them with her, no matter what Enzo said.
“Miles, I…” she said, the doorbell cutting her off, making us both startle. I couldn't decide whether I felt disappointment or gratitude.
“Ah, th-that’s dinner. Um, head to the kitchen. We can eat at the island, if you’d like.” With one more look, I let her hand go and jumped up.
As I rushed like a coward toward the door, a war raged inside me.
Friends, Miles. That’s all you can ever be.