Chapter 13 #2
“Ciao, parli Italiano?” I asked with a wide smile as I leaned over the glass-encased counter.
Underneath, there was a wide array of long rectangular pizza slices that looked very different from New York-style pizza.
Some slices featured interesting combinations like potatoes and onions, and zucchini and ricotta with lemon zest. All of it smelled like heaven.
With a toothy grin, he excitedly answered, “Si! Da dove vieni?”
“Roma,” I answered, letting him know where I was from. That's when I saw the deepening frown on Miles’ face as he took a small step closer to me.
The move was not lost on the man behind the counter as his lips twisted to the side in amusement. His eyes twinkled with mischief as he said in a heavily accented broken English.
“Ciao, welcome to Bella Roma. I Giovanni. My family and I are excited bring our traditions to beautiful San Diego. We from Sicily but I love Roma. The eternal city. What joy to meet a fellow Italian. Una bella, bellissima like you.” He finished his lengthy introduction with a chef’s kiss and an eyebrow waggle.
“Gratzie,” I said, smiling widely while Miles rolled his eyes.
“This your first time here?” Giovanni asked, his question directed to Miles.
“Yes,” he grumbled. I was pretty sure he mumbled “last time, too” under his breath.
“Excellent. What can I get you two?” he asked, greeting a few more people who were filing into the tight space. “I can add anything you like to the slices, but they’re perfect as is,” he added proudly with a slight bow of his head.
Miles nodded to me to order first. “One slice of your margherita, please, Giovanni.”
“Please. Call me Gio,” he answered, taking a slice from the display and quickly placing it in the hidden oven under the counter.
He turned to Miles for his order. “Two slices of the pepperoni and sausage, but could you add bacon and peppers to it, please? Oh, and black olives.”
Gio’s face morphed into disgust. Adding the toppings like they’d offended him, he mumbled, “Americans.”
I barely held in my laughter and had to look away. Miles led me by the elbow to an outside table after Gio explained he’d bring them out to us and we could pay later.
I could hear Gio giving a similar greeting behind us as we sat on the mismatched chairs outside. Taking a deep breath in, I looked around the bustling streets.
“I decided to start doing some sightseeing while I’m here. It really is a beautiful city,” I said warmly, my gaze coming back to him.
The grumpiness had waned as he scanned the street as well. There was a florist nearby that brought the scent of roses when the wind blew. Another café, something that boasted fresh-pressed juices, was a few doors down.
“I didn’t realize how much I missed it until I came back home,” he said thoughtfully.
Twisting around to face him more fully, I asked, “What made you come back?”
“MJ,” he said solemnly. “There had been a sadness about her, nothing she’d admit to when I asked.
Last Mother’s Day, I made the last-minute decision to come out here over the weekend.
Her class had made cards for their moms and she was completely distraught.
I think the older she gets, the more she longs for Katy. ”
Sighing, I answered, “I get that. For me with my father, it was in the simple things.”
“Can only imagine. I’m fortunate to still have both of mine. Something I try hard not to take for granted.”
We sat in silence for a few minutes, something common for us. I loved that we didn’t need to fill the moments with words all the time. He looked up, laughing to himself.
“I’m just remembering. That Mother’s Day weekend was the first time I met Sofia. She and Luke hadn’t gotten together yet. Whew, she was feisty.”
Laughing along with him, I answered, “You got that right. I mean, Sofia has a calm about her that I love but she can rival even Corinna’s fire at times. Now her, she’s the one to watch out for. I think it’s the red hair.”
We both laughed again, and I realized we were both skirting around the mention of my brother.
“So, tell me,” he said, tapping his knee to mine under the table. “What simple things remind you of your father. If you want to tell me, that is.”
“Yes, I love talking about him. Let’s see. Whenever I visit the Aventine Keyhole, it’s like he’s right there with me. It was our special place. We call it the Buco della Serratura.”
“Hmm, when Luke and I visited Rome as kids, I don’t remember seeing that. Why was it so special?”
Wistfully, I answered, “It’s a place where there is a keyhole. Through it, you see a perfectly framed view of St. Peter’s Basilica across the city. It’s like an almost magical perspective that feels like finding wonder in something small.”
He leaned toward me, placing his forearms on the wobbly table. “I love that. I’m glad you have that memory to hold on to.”
“Me too,” I said softly. “Papa used to say, “life’s beauty is often hidden.” It spoke to me and continues to in some areas of my life. I’ve been avoiding our spot for awhile because it makes the pain of loss so heavy. I need to start visiting more often.”
Miles took my hand from my lap, intertwining it with his. The warmth of it should’ve made me feel uncomfortable in the heat of the summer afternoon, but I relished it. Relished his strength.
“Your dad was absolutely right,” he said. Once again, his heated gaze seemed to capture me. It was like everything on that city street melted away as time stood still.
The discreet clearing of a throat broke our eye contact, but I noticed that Miles didn’t let go of my hand as Gio gingerly placed our pizzas in front of us with a wink. Only when he returned through the open door did he let go.
“Let’s dig in. See what all the fuss is about,” he said with a side-eye in the direction Gio had just left.
“You’re going to love this. Roman pizza is perfection,” I cooed as I took my first bite.
Its thin, crackly crust brought me back to Regio’s Pizzeria near our house.
The tangy sweetness of the tomato sauce along with the blistered edges of peppery basil leaves made my heart happy.
I bobbed my head side to side in total glee.
When I looked up, I instinctively grabbed a few napkins from the dispenser on the table when I realized Miles was watching me.
“What?” I asked, swiping my mouth and chin in fear of melted cheese hanging from either.
He grinned and said, “I love watching you eat.” He quickly added, “Not like a creep or anything. You just enjoy your food so much. Savor it. I love that.”
Swallowing my bite, I said, “Glad to entertain you, Mr. Austin.”
Pointing to the monstrosity in front of him, I joked, “You know. That’s not pizza. That’s just chaos.”
He looked down at the mound of toppings slowly sliding off the two slices. Gio must’ve thought it would be funny to add as many of the ingredients Miles had asked for. You couldn’t even see the crust.
“What? This? This, my Roman friend, is called a masterpiece.”
Scoffing, I answered, “That’s what I call indigestion.”
“Who sounds old now?” he asked, wagging his eyebrows, making me laugh loudly.
“When you add all that stuff, you can’t really taste anything. It’s just too much,” I argued, taking another bite.
“That’s what Americans are known for. More options. If a little is good, a lot is better,” he said with a shrug, taking his first bite, which was somewhat comical.
“You may have to unhinge your jaw first.”
Miles laughed and choked at the same time. Swallowing quickly, he scolded, “Don’t do that when I’ve got a mouthful, woman. You know you’ve got a wicked sense of humor, Ms. Lazzara. I don’t think I’ve laughed this much in years.”
“Same for me. I’ve had so much fun hanging out with you,” I said, suddenly feeling shy as I remembered our almost kiss. Miles hadn’t mentioned it, and I wasn’t sure what that meant. Nothing felt weird between us, but I wanted to ask him about it.
Maybe I’d misunderstood his actions, and he wasn’t really going to kiss me. How embarrassing would that be? I inwardly groaned at the possibility.
“Vicky?” he asked, his head tilted, a quizzical look on his face.
“Huh? Oh sorry. Drifted off there for a moment.” I’d given up worrying about how often he made me blush.
I looked down, and most of his pizza was gone. How long had my mind wandered?
“How in…did you just inhale all that?” I asked incredulously.
He shrugged again. “I was hungry. Stay here. I’ll go pay and we can head back. Unfortunately, I’ve got a call in half an hour. Want anything else?”
Shaking my head, I thanked him and said no, hurrying to finish the last few bites of my slice. I waved to Gio through the open door as we walked away, not missing that Miles was gently pushing me forward and away from the restaurant, his strong hand on the small of my back.
A few minutes later, when we were a few buildings from my office, he stopped, making me pause mid-step.
As we walked, Miles had taken the spot closest to the street, a move I’d only read about in my favorite romance novel Aria had written.
It reflected the kind of man he was. When he stopped to face me and he had a strange expression on his face—a mix of cocky and amused.
“What’s going on?” I asked, his gaze making me nervous as always.
“When you drifted off just now. Were you thinking about Saturday night?” he asked, coming a step closer to me, making me back up a step.
“What?” I asked, my voice going higher. “W-what do you mean?”
He moved one step closer, causing my back to gently bump into the building. He was so close I had to look up to see his face. He still wore that smug look of confidence, as if he were hiding a secret.
“At my house. Before MJ interrupted us,” he said huskily.
Oh dear Lord in heaven. Was this man about to kiss me in the street? This was no tech-nerd move. This was full-on Henry Cavill kind of confidence.
“Ah. Yes. I remember,” I breathed out.
As if I could ever forget.
He laid his hand right at my line of sight, leaning toward me.
What. Was. Happening?
All I could picture was him doing this in a hoodie and a backwards ball cap. My knees started to wobble at the thought.
“Just in case you were wondering back there,” he said, gesturing with his head toward the restaurant, “yes, I almost kissed you the other night. Also, this? Right here? It’s called…leaning. It shows you that a man is interested. How do you feel about that?”
Now the man was a mind reader. Stop thinking about hoodies and baseball caps!
Scanning his eyes for clues about how he felt, I stammered, “I, I don’t know, honestly.”
Leaning closer until he was so near I could feel the warmth of his cheek as he bent down. My breath caught in my throat, and my eyes fluttered closed.
“When you do, let me know, okay?” he asked, pulling back slightly.
Miles wasn’t toying with me. He wasn’t that kind of man. Besides, I could hear the wavering in his voice as he spoke, no matter how much confidence he tried to show. He understood how important my first kiss was, and he wasn’t sure I wanted to give it to him.
Conjuring up my inner goddess once more, I leaned toward him, catching him off guard.
Two can play at this game.
His eyebrows lifted as he straightened, his eyes widening in surprise.
Placing my hands gently on his shoulders, I stood on my tiptoes, just like I’d done the other night.
Miles instinctively leaned his head down to me, his eyes bouncing between mine expectantly.
Summoning everything I’d seen in my favorite Italian romance movies, I put my cheek to his and spoke near his ear.
“You’ll be the first to know.”
Yes, Miles. Let me show how it’s done in Italy.
He visibly shivered, and his breath stuttered in his throat. After placing my heels back on the ground, I smiled up at him.
“Thanks for lunch,” I said with a wink.
I stepped back and walked away, my hips swaying, my head held high with a wicked grin on my face.