Chapter Ten
Ten
San Giorgio Maggiore
Lorenzo
I t’s seven o’clock, and I’m waiting for Daisy in the lobby with my violin case on my back, hoping she remembers our appointment. I only mentioned the time once this afternoon, when we were eating the polpo alla veneziana she cooked for us.
Daisy is an amazing chef—yes, I will give all the credit to her, not the seller.
She didn’t blindly follow his recipe, after all.
All the extra things she added made it go from good to spectacular.
I was never a fan of octopus, and chopping off its head—because yes, she gave me the honors—didn’t change that. Until I ate her delicious dish.
Mostly, I loved to be with her in the hotel kitchen and pretend this was daily life.
I look at my phone, wondering if I should text her. It’s only 7:02, Lorenzo, for God’s sake.
So I wait. I hope she’s not stressing over her looks.
I don’t care what she’s wearing, really.
She could come in her nightgown, as far as I’m concerned.
Though I am looking formal, it’s true. It just feels weird wearing anything more casual than dress pants and a button-up shirt when wandering around Venice with my violin—and Daisy.
The elevator arrives at the ground floor, and the doors open to reveal a stunning woman in a red dress.
Wow.
Daisy strides toward me with an intense expression on her face. Her natural beauty is enhanced by a flawless layer of makeup. On her feet, heels that might be uncomfortable to walk in on the stone-paved streets of Venice.
Luckily, we’re sailing today.
And she’s mastered the high-heel skill. She looks like a model owning the catwalk. Her slender body sways, hips moving from side to side, the tight, short dress exposing her toned legs.
I can’t stop looking at her, open-mouthed. She stops before me, lips as red as her dress, and I feel like bowing to the goddess before my eyes.
“You look fantastic,” I say, and the words sound insufficient to express her beauty.
“I suspected you’d be looking gorgeous, so I figured I should match you.”
Wow. I can’t stop thinking it.
“I like that you know you look great,” I say. “Who needs modesty?”
She smiles. “I found out having low self-esteem isn’t charming or sweet and can cause you a lot of pain.”
I love that I had that effect on her confidence. I’m so happy she can see how beautiful, attractive, and desirable she is.
“Isn’t it silly that people are automatically classified as arrogant or vain for feeling good about themselves or acknowledging what they excel at?” I say.
“Very silly,” she replies with a smile. “Why do you have to feel that you deserve less than you do or hold back to not make others feel diminished, right?”
I nod, enchanted to the core of my every cell.
“Sometimes, a killer outfit can do the trick and free you of such feelings,” I say, my eyes scanning her body from head to toe.
“And so can a killer date.”
My gaze moves up and stays at her mouth. God, she’s sexy.
“So is that what this is? A date?” A smirk plays in the corner of my lips. I know it’s a date. Everything we have done together since Luigi caught us on the terrace has been a date. But I want to hear her say it.
“Of course,” she confirms, calmly staring into my eyes, her fingers finding my collar to adjust it.
She opens the two buttons at the top, her nails brushing my neck as she parts the sides of my shirt for a casual look.
“This is our time to feel good about ourselves and acknowledge what you excel at.”
Jesus Christ, is she going to give me a hard-on this early in the night?
“Playing the violin,” she adds, eyes on the case hanging from my back.
Of course. I breathe to recompose myself. I hate and love how tricky she can be. She fakes innocence, but her words—and her eyes and fingers—reveal her true intentions.
I want to unmask her today. To get her to reveal all those filthy—and delicious—parts of herself. I want her to lay herself bare before me. Guileful. Horny. Surrendered.
“A date can hold many surprises, Signora Hogan,” I say close to her ear, provocatively. We’re alone in the lobby, thankfully, and far from the ears and eyes of the people at the reception desk.
Oh, how I want to satisfy her…
Not that sex is my focus tonight. Practicing for my audition is.
At least, that’s what I tell myself, but I’m very willing to bend my plans should an irresistible opportunity arise.
After all, taking some time to relax is part of the preparation process.
“Where are we going?” She asks the question I’ve been expecting.
“On an escapade to one of the most underrated spots in Venice.”
I motion for her to follow me, and we walk through the doors to the water entrance. Once we’re both standing on the hotel’s private dock, she looks from side to side, confused.
“Are we taking a boat?”
I check the time on my phone and send an okay to a dear friend I’ll have to thank handsomely later.
“Allow me to surprise you, Signora Hogan.”
One of the corners of her mouth rises reluctantly. She doesn’t mind me playing with my professional manners. I dare say she thinks it’s sexy. I decide to push it.
“Do, however, tell me if you have any particular wishes I could fulfill,” I say, clutching my wrist in front of my body in a courtly posture.
She steps closer, the evening breeze blowing her hair back and making it dance around her ears. “You haven’t yet failed to please me. So I trust you.”
Please me , she said, staring at me so intensely, bringing forth memories of our previous escapades . The thought of my hands on her skin sends an electric current through my body. I discreetly hold on to the wooden pillar next to me, feeling unbalanced.
We haven’t kissed today…yet. I’ve been a perfect gentleman, playing whatever role she needs me to play—friend, tour guide, cooking partner…
And now she wants the violinist. It’s the hardest part to play, after so long, in front of her…
But I chose this, and I will be my best version tonight. With her. For her.
The water taxi arrives. Luxurious like a limo, its polished wooden surface glints under the light of a gorgeous sunset. Daisy raises her eyebrows at me.
“That’s not for us, right? We considered taking one of these from the airport, but the prices are—”
“You worry about nothing tonight, okay?” I interrupt her. “Leave it all to me. Paolo is a friend.”
Paolo then docks the boat and walks out of it, greeting us. I introduce Daisy to him, and discreetly he steps aside and lets me handle everything from helping Daisy up to escorting her in.
While I place my violin case on an empty seat, she looks at the interior of the boat with her jaw dropped, just as I had expected. Most people who aren’t very rich are surprised to discover the luxurious experience of a taxi ride in Venice.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
“I hadn’t imagined it would be so…” She runs a hand over the white leather seat under the open roof. Then her gaze lands on the wine bottle and two glasses on the small table hiding a minibar.
“So much cooler than taking a taxi in LA?” I help her.
“Yeah.” Daisy nods enthusiastically, laughing a little. “You have some nice friends,” she says, aware that I’m paying for an expensive date and using my contacts as an excuse so she won’t worry too much.
“Wait until you see what my other friend let me borrow.”
She smiles, enticed by the mystery.
Paolo closes the door, giving us some privacy, and we stay in the back, under the open roof. Although the seat is large and the taxi could fit eight more passengers, I make sure to sit as close to Daisy as possible—but only after I fill our glasses with the wine I carefully selected.
“Amarone wine,” I say as I hand a glass to Daisy. “It’s from this region, Veneto, near Verona. The grapes are handpicked and dried for months on wooden racks.”
She thanks me and looks at the glass, following the proper ritual. She observes the color of the liquid then gently swirls it in the glass and inhales its aroma. Lastly, she tastes the wine, sipping just enough to coat her palate. I wait for her overall impression.
“It has a velvety texture,” she concludes. “There are notes of cherries…maybe plums. It’s very good. It would pair well with a rich and savory dish, like braised meat or a risotto with porcini mushrooms.”
I smile at her and take a sip myself. “It sounds like you should add it to the menu of your restaurant.” I gently tuck her hair behind her ear.
“I could put you in touch with possible suppliers. Assuming you want to import products from Italy.” She looks at me, a crease of puzzlement between her brows, so I add, “I want you to know we can stay in contact. I can be an ally in your journey.” I swallow.
This doesn’t have to be the end.
I don’t say it, but it’s what I mean.
Her body tightens, and her expression changes. The line on her forehead deepens, and her eyes turn distant. I let go of the strand of her hair I’d been playing with, a hole opening in my stomach. I said the wrong thing.
Does she hate thinking about the near future where we are apart, just like I do? Is she having second thoughts about her plans? Because I am. Every time I look at her, I want things to stay exactly as they are—with both of us here…forever.
But I know that’s a silly thought. Our hearts don’t beat for each other only. They have other wishes, and now that I’m opening mine to music again, I need to close the door to a life with Daisy if her future is back home.
A heavy silence hovers over us. Daisy looks out the window and almost finishes the contents of her glass in one gulp, then leaves it on the table and stands up to look at the canal we’re speedily crossing.
I put my glass aside and stand up too, joining her in the windy and marvelous experience of gliding through the Canal Grande on a speedboat.
“Daisy… Should we talk about this?” I ask.
She doesn’t look at me for a couple of seconds, instead letting the salty air sweep her hair back.