JULIET
The restof breakfast is just as good—freshly made breads, with jams, and steaming cups of cappuccino. It’s heaven, enjoying good food, in beautiful Rome, with the handsomest of guys… But I keep trying to remind myself that we are not together. This is a work engagement, and our cease-fire is only temporary, for the good of the company.
That’s probably why I try to keep the conversation solidly on all things work-related. “So, what’s this series of meetings with Moda all about? I know that they’re a big luxury clothing brand here in Europe,” I add, having skimmed the research on the flight over.
“I’m looking to expand our reach,” Caleb replies. “A big brand collaboration would be the kind of positive press the company needs right now, even if it would make my father roll in his grave. Plus, it’ll keep the board happy and Olivia off my case, for now.”
Olivia. It feels like a dirty word. I cringe, and quickly change the subject. “So, you’ve been to Italy before?” I blurt. “I mean, obviously, if you’re fluent. Unless you’ve been secretly working away on Duolingo tapes,” I add, teasing.
He laughs. “No, I spent time here as a kid. My parents wanted to explore our heritage,” he adds. “Plus, my father would bring me for the designer shows every year, having me sit in on the big meetings, to train to take over. Have you seen much this morning?” he asks.
“Nope. Just the Colosseum. And… That fountain over there.” I admit. “I’ll be honest, I was a little nervous to venture too far away from the hotel. I thought with the language gap, I might never find my way back.”
“It’s not like you to be afraid,” he says quietly, and I shift in my seat. Does Caleb really see me as brave?
“You made a wish.”
I look up.
“In the fountain,” Caleb continues. “Your lips were moving as you threw the coin in.”
They were? How long had he been watching me, and why was he watching me so closely? “If I tell you, it won’t come true,” I answer lightly, taking another sip of water.
“Let me guess.” He puts his fingers to his temples, like he’s trying to practice ESP. “Got it. You wished someone who knew Rome better would come and give you a tour?”
I can’t help but laugh. “You’re right,” I agree solemnly. “That was exactly what I wished for.”
“Then let’s make it come true.”
He motions to the waiter. “Let’s go.”
“But, I thought you had work to do…” I trail off, torn between wanting his attention and my freedom.”
“It can wait.”
I remind myself of the truce. “Then I’d love a tour,” I admit. “And not just the tourist attractions, either. Show me the places you love.”
We leave the café and walk down the sidewalk. He stops in front of a bright red Vespa, takes a helmet off the seat, and hands it to me.
I blink in surprise.
“That’s yours?”
“Well . . . no. I’m renting it.” He smiles. “But you can’t be in Italy and not ride a Vespa. Hop on.”
Excited, I strap the helmet on. It smells like his hair, like him. I straddle the scooter and he gets on in front of me.
“Hold on,” he says, and after a pause, I do.
I wrap my hands tight around his waist, breathing in his scent, his presence, all of it. My thighs cling to him, and when he pulls away from the street, I watch all of Rome pass by in a blur. I have to fight to care so much about the scenery as I do about the company.
We swoop through the city at a breakneck speed. The Roman Forum, the Pantheon, various churches and places I’ve never heard of. Oh, and there’s Trevi Fountain. We cross the River Tiber and he shows me Vatican City and St. Peter’s Basilica. I take them in, a little dizzy from this whirlwind sightseeing trip—and Caleb’s body, pressed so close to mine.
It's like a dream, the riot of sights and sounds—and him. I turn my head and rest my cheek against his strong back.
I’m electrified… And turned on by the heat of him, the feel of solid muscle between my thighs. As long as we’re in motion, I can forget about the tension between us, all the history and betrayal. I can pretend we’re just two people on a dream trip, far from home, gliding through the afternoon together.
I don’t want this to end.