JESSICA
Our day began with a small hiccup that I'll admit was mostly my fault. Half-asleep, I felt Vince’s breath over me and saw the alluring look in his eyes, and I wanted to succumb. It would have gone further, too, if Lee hadn’t interrupted. Thank God he did because we would have cut a deeper groove into the one still healing from our last encounter. I’m entirely too convinced that this is the worst scenario possible, yet with him looming over me, I couldn’t help it
We’ve already gotten ready for the day, loaded in the large SUV Lee brought around to the hotel entrance, and we’re driving to some sort of lot that Vince wants to look into. Apparently, we’re a little late to meet with the owner, so Vince is rather uptight and quiet. I look out the window, trying to enjoy the scenery of the Roman countryside while we zip through tiny two-lane streets.
I look down at my light-wash jean shorts and grimace. Getting dressed this morning was something of a nightmare when I found out every item of clothing was form-fitting. I found these high-waisted shorts and felt surprisingly fine in them, but every top was more revealing than the next, so I ended up asking Vince if I could borrow one of his white button-ups. He did roll his eyes at me but obliged, so at least that's tucked into my shorts nicely. It’s a little like a safety blanket, with its billowing cotton fabric.
Today is pretty hot, so I decided to pull my hair up into a ponytail and left some pieces to fall on either side of my face. It’s the only way to properly do an up-do, and I doubt anyone would argue with me on that.
“You’re wearing those?” Vince pointed to my shoes when I met him at the elevator just before leaving the hotel.
“Yeah…” I looked down at my white heels from yesterday, and he huffed in response. He may know more about fashion than me, but the other shoes that were packed, just seem too far out of my comfort zone. All designers, of course. Now that I think about it, I’m fairly certain everything I’m wearing now is from a designer. Still, I’d rather not think about that because it took everything in me to get dressed in it.
The car comes to a stop, and I’m pulled out of my thoughts, my eyes brought to the surrounding scenery. We must have crossed towns because the one we’re in looks like a storybook. Quaint, cobblestone streets, towering townhouses with steep steps and hills encompassing the small city-line. I turn my head to Vince, who's already sliding out of the car, so I do the same on my side.
As soon as my heels touch the stone sidewalk, Lee is there to greet me.
“This way, Ms. Lee.” He offers me a smile, and I reciprocate with my own, allowing him to close the car door and lead me down the street. Vince is already half a mile ahead with three other security guards, and I resist the urge to pick up my pace to be closer. I only really want to be next to him because I know we’re late, but I don’t think he’ll see my closeness as a cordial effort, so I walk at Lee’s even pace.
“You ever been to Rome, Lee?” I turn my head up to his tall stature, and he nods his head.
“Yes.” A man of few words, I see. I resist the urge to laugh at his curtness. It’s not offensive, just interesting. Although, not surprising for his type of position, given that it's far more physically demanding than socially. I watch as Vince rounds a corner, and again I stop myself from speeding up.
“Where are we going exactly?” I ask as we approach the end of the street.
“It’s a farm that the town was built by.” I nod to acknowledge him as we turn the corner. I’m immediately awed by the rolling hills just beyond this street. It’s like two worlds of opposite intentions are colliding, and it makes this place seem even more magical than it already is.
Sheep, cows, and horses flock varying heights of the land, marked off by tall white wood fences. Vince is at the gate entrance, right where the cobblestone turns to grass. He’s chatting with a short man who is barefoot, sun-kissed, in dark overalls and a grass-stained white t-shirt. He looks like quite the character, chatting quickly with Vince, who continues to push their conversation.
I can’t quite hear what they’re saying, but as we get closer, I can tell it’s quite tense between the two. We stop a few feet away from them, mostly because I’m following whatever Lee does. The tan man in overalls looks over to us as soon as we stop walking, and he raises a hand for Vince to wait.
“Who’s this?” His accent is thick, and I think he’s asking the boss, but he’s looking at me. His deep brown eyes perplexed with intrigue.
“This is my business associate, Ms. Lee. She’s come to help with legal documentation and organizing the details so that you and I can talk business.” He crosses his fingers over his abs, and the man looks back at him.
“I won’t consider your deal until you have lunch with my family.” He narrows his eyes, and Vince nods vigorously.
“Of course, I’ll just have my associate and a couple of my men wait here—“
“No. Just you and Ms. Lee, come.” He waves a hand, and the security team looks at each other hesitantly, waiting for Vince’s approval of this order. There is a shift in Vince’s countenance, like he’s taking something on and deciding if this is worth it. I highly doubt we need to worry about being safe in this town where no one knows him with a farmer's family, but he seems to really be mulling it over.
He clicks his tongue after a minute. “Okay.” He reaches his hand out for me to take, and I cross to him. The moment our hand's touch, he holds mine tightly, and I don’t know why, but it’s reassuring. I glance back to the team as we enter the gates, and the confident look on Lee’s face makes me believe this is all okay. We walk a-ways until we’re over the hill, and I see a little golf cart parked by the fence.
My heels sink into the grass as we head over to it.
“Ms. Lee.” The man turns on the cart and places a hand on the seat next to him. I feel Vince tense up for a moment and reluctantly release my hand as he gets into the back seat. I plop down next to tan-man, and the cart takes off. We’re going pretty fast, and I would think that would mean we’d be at his house by now, but the land is endless, towering trees, lush green fields, and herds of animals for miles and miles.
I see a large white barn before seeing the even larger, mansion-sized farmhouse. White brick and white wood paneling, coal-black shudders on every window, matching black door and roof. The house is probably three, maybe four, stories high. I let out a little gasp at the sight of it, and when we’re close enough, a spotted sheepdog meets us. It runs alongside the cart until we come to a stop in front of the house.
Four children barrel off the porch, sprinting down the steps and screaming words at him with excitement. They hug who I assume to be their father, and he picks the littlest one up, resting her on his hip.
“Welcome to The Domus Farms.” He shoots a hand proudly in the air towards the house as we walk to it. The children mimic his gestures, probably excited to see new faces that are barely touched by the sun. They’re precious.
The house is astounding; even just walking up the porch steps feels surreal. What could Vince want with such land when it’s perfect the way it is?
“Shoes!” The little ones chant among themselves as they slip their shoes off, and the man tilts his head to Vince and me to follow their rules. I slide my heels off, and Vince sits on the bench by a flower-potted window.
“This is a beautiful home,” I say to pass the time while Vince gently takes off his million-dollar shoes.