Chapter Five
Five
Indulgence
Daisy
T here’s champagne in my room when I get back from dinner. It’s in an ice bucket next to a gorgeous flower bouquet, a plate of red fruits, and a small box containing four chocolate truffles.
I get a warm feeling in my chest and grin to myself. Here are the extras Lorenzo promised us this morning.
I walk to the table and take the card that came with the gifts. There is a small envelope under it with an old iron key inside.
We hope you had an unforgettable day in Venice and felt the magical thrill of its beautiful canals, squares, and narrow streets. Enjoy your gifts on the rooftop terrace with a stunning view of the city. Use the key and stay as long as you want.
Compliments,
Hotel Marchesi
I’ve received flowers from men before, but they never gave me chills.
Technically, none of this is for me alone—it’s for Jeremy and me, so that our project advances.
And it’s, of course, not from Lorenzo but from Hotel Marchesi .
But I can’t help thinking that Lorenzo is secretly communicating with me through these gifts.
They are his way of thanking me for a wonderful afternoon.
I have so many mixed feelings about what happened.
We went too far, for sure. I let myself get carried away because Lorenzo is alluring.
Talking to him, being physically close to him, is so easy, so effortless.
He’s audacious, clever, spirited, deep, and full of passion.
His vibrant presence kept pulling me toward him as if he were a shiny gem I couldn’t keep my eyes—and hands—away from.
God, it felt good to be flirted with—to be desired . My heart keeps racing, even though it was hours ago.
I know letting Lorenzo help me is playing with fire. And yet, I’m here swooning. And I asked him to stick around…
I wish I could be as carefree as he is, but I don’t want to stop planning the future. Because as pleasant as it is to enjoy the present, the rest of my life is right around the corner, and if I don’t chase what I want to see on the other side, it will never be mine.
Now is the time to work on the lifelong relationship I picture for myself—the kind Dad couldn’t have but was sure I could—so that I can focus on my career when I get back.
I need to be bolder this week so I can win over Jeremy and have him by my side for the rest of my days. And Lorenzo is the best seduction teacher I could have asked for. He makes me see I can be enticing. I can flirt. I can make a man want me.
Not that I’ll need him to give me “lessons” again. Having him as our tour guide will suffice.
Jeremy and I had dinner at a restaurant near the hotel. It wasn’t in the Michelin guide or on my list, but it was well rated and turned out to be a fine choice. I had a classic carbonara, and he had a risotto alla Milanese , both fresh and well presented.
We spent the whole dinner brainstorming decor for my restaurant and what dishes I could serve. Since it was Jeremy, I ended up with more absurd, over-the-top ideas than anything I could use. But that’s fine. Everything I see, taste, and smell in Venice inspires me.
In terms of romance, however, nothing advanced between us. I kept thinking it wasn’t the right moment to make a move and ended up acting as the “good old friend.”
At least now I have champagne, grapes, and chocolate to share. That might shake things up.
I knock on Jeremy’s door and tell him to come over. He enters my room slowly, and I realize it’s his first time here. Luckily, I’m a neat person. All my things are in the cabinets or in my suitcase, so there is nothing to be embarrassed about.
His eyes find the table with our extras.
“Whoa! Cool!” He takes the card, and my stomach lurches. I remind myself nothing in the wording suggests that Lorenzo and I almost made out in the narrowest street in Venice.
I get butterflies just thinking about that moment.
I’ve never felt so eager to kiss a man before.
The fact that he kept provoking me, keeping his lips away from mine on purpose, ugh , it was almost unbearable.
I feel warm between my legs at the mere memory of how hot it was.
How sexy he is. The monologue about his violin career? Fuck.
I’ve always admired musicians for their discipline and the way they express their emotions through music, much like how I express myself through my dishes.
Lorenzo’s journey is inspirational, admirable…
and so sad I wanted to hold his hands, hug him, and kiss him until he forgot that the thing he loved ever caused him pain.
I deeply understand the pressure to be flawless at what you do because it’s the same in my industry. I wanted to kiss every finger he broke and whisper on his skin that he’s worthy, oh so worthy, even if he’s not perfect.
Goddammit, now I’m imagining Lorenzo’s fingers running over my body…
Stop. Deep breath.
“So, we can have the rooftop terrace to ourselves?” Jeremy’s voice cuts through my inappropriate thoughts, and I flush as if he can hear them. He shakes the key, smiling. “Let’s go. Help me carry the things.”
We climb to the rooftop with the gifts, and, to my surprise, there is a single table set near the railing waiting for us. It’s decorated with lit candles and another flower bouquet.
“Wow,” Jeremy says.
Too astonished to speak, I just admire the post-sunset view of the Grand Canal and the myriad of red roofs. It’s a small, very private terrace. I guess they only open it to guests on certain occasions.
I don’t know what to think. While Jeremy puts the champagne and the fruit plate on the table, I stand by the handrail and look at the spectacular landscape of Venice at night with its azure horizon and amber-colored lights reflecting in the water.
I want to thank Lorenzo right now.
I want him to sit next to me to drink the champagne and tell me the story of this building.
“Amazing, isn’t it?” Jeremy says, hands on his waist, smiling.
He sits on one of the chairs, and I sit too, feeling my gut stone-heavy with guilt. I’m glad we have the view to keep our eyes busy so we don’t have to look at each other. I feel as though he will read all my secrets if he looks closely at my face.
I should want to be here with Jeremy . He’s great. We have fun together.
I try to forget Lorenzo. Jeremy and I open the champagne bottle and toast. I couldn’t ask for anything more romantic. I bet not even our honeymoon will beat this.
Thinking about me and Jeremy on a honeymoon, sharing a bed, makes my stomach spin. Not in a nice way.
Is that a sign that I should drop the project?
No , I answer my question. I’m just nervous. This is new. I shouldn’t be thinking so far ahead. It will all come naturally and feel right in its own time…
We stay silent for a while, just appreciating the view and the champagne bubbles tickling our tongues.
“What are we going to do tomorrow?” he asks. The safe question. Taking one day at a time.
I shrug. “I don’t know. Lorenzo will surprise us, I guess.”
Saying his name now feels…weird. And walking around the city with him and Jeremy will be weird too. Ugh, why did I say I wanted that? I guess I was too afraid to be alone with Lorenzo, but I didn’t want to not be with Lorenzo…
My phone rings. It’s Nick, my brother. He’s only one year younger than me, and there were times in our childhood when people thought we were twins.
We’ve always been close. Losing our beloved father—then selling the house that used to be our home—has made us reach out even more often.
He’s moving to Hawaii soon, and I encourage him in his plans just like he supports mine, but I hate that he’s leaving me.
“Look who’s calling.” I show Jeremy the screen.
“Tell him I say hi.” Jeremy smiles. He and Nick have been good friends since childhood, although I stole the title of best friend when Nick started hanging out with skater dudes.
“Hey, sis!” he says in my ear when I answer the call.
“Turn on your camera, bro,” I tell him. “Look at this view.”
We both switch to video, and I flip the camera so he can see the Venetian landscape.
“I see a lot of black… But I don’t doubt it’s cool,” his voice echoes across the terrace.
“Too bad you didn’t come,” I tease him and change to the selfie camera. He shows me his tongue.
“Wait until I’m in Hawaii. I’ll make you salivate.”
“All I want is pictures of you falling off your surfboard,” I say. “Make a compilation for us.”
Jeremy laughs, agreeing.
“Is Jeremy there?” Nick asks.
“Yeah,” I say. Nick cut his hair, and I suspect he did it himself because it looks uneven at the top. At least it’s not a hay-colored tangled mess anymore. “You look halfway decent,” I comment, and he snickers.
Jeremy stands behind me and lowers his face so Nick can see him.
“Hey, Nick!” He waves then places both his hands on the back of my chair. He’s close to my neck. An opportunity. I wait for the chills. For a touch on my shoulders.
Nothing.
“How are you doing, man? Enjoying Venice?”
I realize Nick doesn’t know about our breakups.
Oh no… I don’t want to tell the story. It’s exhausting and embarrassing, and I just want to enjoy my romantic evening with my future husband.
But Jeremy narrates our predicament. Nick laughs with surprise and then says he’s sorry for us.
“So, you’re making the best out of your remaining days, or what?”
I debate whether I should tell him about our project. He’ll laugh and find it stupid. I won’t bother.
But again, Jeremy can’t keep his mouth shut. “We’re working on a friends-to-lovers project,” he says with amusement.
My brother laughs, as expected. “What?”
I have no choice but to explain it. “We decided to have a romantic week in Venice to see if we’ll fall in love with each other.”