Chapter 3 #2
Before she could answer, he changed direction and started walking over to them.
Beth grabbed her smoothie and stuck the straw into her mouth so quickly she jabbed her gum.
Wincing, she took a mouthful, but when he paused right in front of their table and she tried to swallow, it went down the wrong way and she coughed, her cheeks turning even redder than they had been before.
Her eyes began to water and she wished she could dissolve into the floor, never to be seen again.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked in Italian, as Cesca hit her forcefully on the back, but before Beth could speak, her friend answered for her.
‘She’s English, Marco.’
Marco? So she did know him.
‘I do speak Italian though,’ Beth answered, still coughing between words, not wanting him to think badly of her. ‘Pretty fluently.’
‘Oh,’ he replied. ‘Spero che il tuo frullato sia delizioso?’
‘My smoothie is very delicious, thank you for asking.’ She prickled slightly at being tested and his eyes glittered. She added, ‘Vuoi prenderti un frullato o resti lì a sorridermi tutto il girno?’
He and Cesca both burst out laughing. After a second, he composed himself and answered. ‘I don’t plan to smirk at you all day, no. And I prefer a coffee to a smoothie, especially before I train.’
Cesca cleared her throat while the two of them locked eyes, Beth trying to figure out what to make of him. She didn’t know whether to be charmed or offended. She did realise what a rarity it was to find an English person fluent in another language.
‘Marco, this is Beth, and Beth this is my brother Marco.’
‘Your brother!’ Beth’s cheeks grew instantly hotter, the warmth spreading down her neck and back.
She was almost afraid to touch them in case the fabric of her hoodie caught fire.
She’d been ogling and lusting after Cesca’s brother!
Great. That wasn’t something to be embarrassed about at all. Could today get any worse?
‘It’s a pleasure to meet you,’ he said in English, sliding out a chair and joining them.
‘And you,’ she replied, trying to salvage some dignity after choking and now embarrassing herself in front of Cesca’s brother.
Today was, without doubt, turning into the worst day of her life.
She switched into professional mode, as though she were meeting him at a work event.
She could feel her posture changing despite her slouchy outfit, and she sat taller in her seat, her chin slightly lifted.
She tried to ignore the fact she wasn’t exactly looking her best. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you. ’
Cesca had mentioned her brother a few times, generally with regard to family arguments and tensions surrounding the family business.
She wasn’t sure what Marco did, she just knew he didn’t blow the glass and make the art.
He was connected to their family business, but more on the corporate side, and his modern ideas sometimes caused him and his far more traditional father to fall out.
But the relationship between brother and sister seemed easy enough.
Cesca was obviously fond of her black-sheep brother.
‘Marco’s the difficult middle child,’ Cesca said with a grin and Marco rolled his eyes.
‘And you probably already know Cesca’s the baby of the family. The princess who always gets her own way. Mi scusi.’ He stood up. ‘I need a caffé.’
The way he said it made the regular coffee drink sound exotic and utterly delicious, and Beth cleared her throat, but she couldn’t help her eyes following him.
‘Eww,’ Cesca said, drawing Beth’s attention straight back. ‘Do you like my brother?’
‘Shhhh! No! Not like that. I’m just being polite.’
‘Really? So your eyes following him and saying that he’s—’
‘He is handsome,’ she interrupted, feeling the need to clarify and put an end to the conversation. ‘But no more than a lot of Italian men. No offence.’
‘None taken.’
‘You have a different quality here than we do back home. It’s all that sunshine and a healthy diet.’
Cesca giggled before sipping her smoothie. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t say anything.’
Marco returned, sliding into his seat and wiping the foam from his upper lip after drinking his coffee. He had the most perfect Cupid’s bow, and she could just imagine it running kisses down her neck. She shivered and hoped the blast of cold air was cooling her cheeks a little.
‘Beth thinks you’re handsome,’ Cesca announced, and Beth’s head whipped round so fast it was a wonder she hadn’t hurt herself.
‘Cesca!’ She could have died. Right there, on the spot, she could have happily let her life slip away just so she didn’t have to look at him ever again.
‘At least I made you laugh. You needed it.’
‘Thank you.’ Marco smiled, catching her eye. ‘Do you say that to every man you meet?’
‘No. Yes. Well—’
A year in Venice and the very few dates she’d had had been like pulling teeth. She much preferred book boyfriends. The most flirting she’d done was with a painting of a particularly handsome cardinal from 1475.
Beth narrowed her eyes at Cesca, who pretended she hadn’t noticed. Her cheeks were on fire, but she lifted her head to meet his eye, refusing to show how awkward and embarrassed she felt. Cesca was due some payback and she’d enjoy every minute of it when the time came.
‘I haven’t seen you here before, Beth. Have you only just joined?’
‘No, I’ve been coming here for about ten months, but I’ve stayed in the gym.’
‘You haven’t been out on the water?’
She shook her head.
‘Why not?’
‘She didn’t think she was up to it,’ Cesca said. ‘But she definitely is now. Hey, why don’t you come out with me tomorrow?’
‘Tomorrow?’ Beth squeaked.
‘Yes! You don’t have to go back to work, do you? That’s not fair.’
‘Oh, I, umm … maybe another time. I need to figure out what to do now.’ She turned to Marco, eager to change the subject. ‘I don’t remember seeing you around either.’ And I would have remembered, she thought, trying not to watch the way his thigh muscles moved as he adjusted his position.
‘No, I—’ He glanced at Cesca and there was a moment of discomfort between them. Cesca smiled down at her smoothie and took a drink. ‘I travel a lot for work.’
There it was again, that flash of something remaining unsaid between brother and sister.
Was this the cause of the family arguments?
Something to do with the family business?
Cesca hadn’t ever gone into specifics, but she’d definitely grown uncomfortable now.
Beth wondered what it could be. If she’d learned anything about Italians since living here, it was that they were a passionate, fiery bunch.
As the word passionate played in her head, her eyes drew up to Marco and, at the same moment, his gaze went from his sister to her.
That killer smile with bright white, beautifully even teeth flashed again, and she was in danger of overheating once more.
But the atmosphere had grown heavy. Marco seemed to have suddenly closed in and Cesca, always relaxed and open, had crossed her arms over her chest. Awkward was an understatement.
‘Right,’ Beth said, standing up. ‘I better go.’ And figure out what I’m doing with the rest of my life. ‘See you later, Cesca. Nice to meet you, Marco.’
‘You too.’
She had only just made it outside, the cool air refreshing after her flaming embarrassment, when her phone rang. Strangely, it was Giambattista who could only have got her number from Signor Sanna. What could he possibly want?
‘I have good news!’ he announced after she greeted him. ‘You know my friend who gave me the books for the tables?’
‘Yes,’ she answered tentatively.
‘Well, he is old – even older than me—’ He chuckled. ‘Too old to look after his bookshop, so he’s selling it along with all his stock.’
‘Right.’ Beth stood blinking in the wintry sunshine as the words he’d just said filtered into her brain.
‘You should buy his book barge!’
‘Me?’ she squeaked. No! It was preposterous. She couldn’t. Could she … ? Should she … ? Was this a terrible idea?
‘This is exactly the solution you were looking for.’
‘But … but …’
She stood still, thinking. She wasn’t an impetuous person.
She didn’t make rash decisions. Every life choice had been carefully considered, mapped out and thought through.
Last-minute coffee dates and unexpected invitations always threw her and, more often than not, she’d say no because she just couldn’t handle the stress of being unprepared.
But the information Giambattista had just given her was connecting with his advice of earlier.
She loved books. She read all the time. Her small flat was full of all her latest reads, novels filling the bookcase and piled high next to it because there just wasn’t enough room.
‘What do you think?’ She could hear him smiling down the phone.
‘I think – I think I’d love to run a book barge, if I could, but—’
‘Exactly! You always have a book in your hands. Always.’
Words were tumbling around her brain. Could she do this?
A part of her told her no, she didn’t have the training.
She preferred being behind the scenes, not talking to customers.
She knew about art and paintings, not the latest fiction releases.
But she was a true bookworm, and she knew how to cash up; she’d done it to help out at the galleria often enough.
She could market exhibitions and marketing a book barge couldn’t be that different.
It would allow her to stay in Venice and, with no museums taking on, what else was she going to do?
But was this all too much caffeine? The shock of the morning catching up with her?
Her stomach churned but with something that felt like excitement rather than blind panic.
Giambattista was so excited he spoke in Italian and as her brain fought with itself, she had to work hard to pay attention. ‘He’ll be so happy! He was so worried no one would want it!’
Worry and fear began to take over. What had she done? What had she said? She hadn’t thought through costs or implications; she’d done no research … nothing.
Did she really, actually want to run a floating bookshop? On a barge? In Venice?
A strong voice inside her replied with a resounding yes, quietening her doubts.
‘I’ve told him you will see him tomorrow at ten o’clock,’ Giambattista said.
Suddenly, a thought crystallised in her head.
It wasn’t the galleria that was right for her.
It was Venice. And the possibility of running her own small, perfect bookshop on one of Venice’s beautiful canals seemed like a dream.
Her chest tightened and she knew she couldn’t let this opportunity go or let her own need to plan and be in control hold her back.
‘I’ll send you the address now. I am so happy, Beth! This is fate!’
He rang off and Beth stared ahead, blinking in the sunlight.
Cold air brought her back to life, blowing hair into her face.
Yet, her brain had frozen, too many thoughts tumbling around in a whirlwind.
Without thinking, she turned around and marched straight back into the café, plonking into the seat she’d only recently vacated. Cesca and Marco’s conversation halted.
‘Oh,’ Cesca said, her voice high with surprise. ‘I thought … Beth … Are you okay?’
Vaguely, Beth was aware of Cesca and Marco glancing at each other, then her, their eyes widening in concern.
Was this a good idea or had the shock sent her off the deep end?
‘I’ve just had a very odd phone call.’
‘Right … ?’ Cesca said.
‘I – I think … I think there might be a solution to my staying in Venice.’
‘Staying?’ Marco asked and Cesca quickly and quietly gave him a rundown of the day’s events.
In disjointed sentences, as though she was only just learning to talk, Beth explained about the phone call she’d just received and Giambattista’s excitement.
‘This is brilliant,’ Cesca said, clapping her hands together. ‘It’s such a perfect solution.’
‘But – I can’t! It’s – it’s such a big change. A big risk. I don’t know if I can do it.’
‘Of course you can! Can’t she, Marco?’
‘If she wants to,’ Marco said, his tone a mixture of question and concern. ‘Do you want to?’ He looked at Beth, their eyes meeting, and the intense kindness made her stomach flip.
‘I – I think so … ?’
Cesca clapped. ‘Then you should do it! I can help with any repairs and design work. But how often does a chance like this come along?’ She leaned forwards and grabbed Beth’s hands.
‘Not very often I suppose.’
‘Then you should do it? What’s the worst that can happen?’
Her mind almost listed too many options to count, but then Marco’s deep voice cut through them.
‘You cannot predict what will or won’t go wrong, but even if it doesn’t work out, you won’t be any worse off than you are now. And who doesn’t like bookshops?’
Who indeed, she thought. Could he become any more attractive? Who didn’t love a man who loved a bookshop!
‘Taking chances,’ Cesca added excitedly, ‘can be good for the soul. That’s what our mamma says.’
Beth’s soul was here in Venice. She knew that more than anything.
‘Would you like me to come with you?’ Cesca asked gently, and Beth felt a surge of love for her friend.
‘Would you?’
‘Of course! I would love to.’
Excitement began to build, and a smile lifted Beth’s face.
With Cesca there to let her know what needed doing, she’d be in a much better position to make a decision.
Not to mention she’d love the moral support.
She glanced at Cesca, whose smile was familiar and comforting, and to Marco, who she’d only just met, but whose kindness in this moment had helped settle her nerves and stop her automatically saying no.
She felt a blaze of attraction cut through the panicky thoughts swirling in her mind as he smiled.
A floating bookshop. It did sound wonderful. And there was no harm in at least taking a look, was there?