1
“Grazie,”she said.“Buona giornata.”
“Il tuo benvenuto Buona giornata anche tu,”the barista replied and then in English said, “Your Italian is getting very good, River.”
“Thank you, Martina, I’m trying” she replied. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
River Caldwell smiled at Martina and then walked out of the coffee house feeling pleased with herself. In just the couple of months she’d been living in Venice, even she could see that her Italian had gotten markedly better. There was something good to be said about fully immersive education. Being in a world surrounded by people who only spoke Italian made it necessary to pick up the native tongue. Most people she ran across spoke a bit of English but being that she was in Italy, they appreciated her effort to speak their language.
She stepped out of the coffee house and into the sunlight that lit up the Piazza San Marco. Even that early in the morning, St. Mark’s Square was filled with tourists. Many of them were taking pictures of the grand and elaborate Basilica and St. Mark’s Clocktower. But many more were snapping shots of themselves with the massive flock of pigeons that called the square home. Taking photos with the pigeons was something of a rite of passage. River had dozens of pictures of herself with the filthy birds on her hands, arms, and even her head.
The small island in the center of Venice’s lagoon was the storied center of the old city. From the canals and narrow waterways, the gondolas, and vaparettos, to the floating marketplaces, the center island—theCentro Storico—was the beating heart and soul of Venice. It was beautiful. Picturesque. And some of the biggest figures in history Even though Venice was a larger area that stretched onto the mainland of Italy, the center island was what people thought of first when they talked about the city.
River walked down the brick and cobblestone streets of theCentro Storico di Venezia,greeting everybody she passed. She’d found the Italian people to be so warm and welcoming. It wasn’t like living in Southern California where everybody was so self-absorbed and unfriendly. She’d taken a gap year after high school because she wanted to travel. She’d wanted to see as much of the world as possible since once she started at Georgetown, her time was not going to be her own. She would go from school and then straight into her father's law firm without ever having lived her life or done what she wanted to do.
She’d had a hard time convincing her father to let her do this, to let her have this year to find herself and her passion, but he’d eventually given in. She was a daddy’s girl, through and through, and he’d always had a hard time saying no to her. River’s mother hadn’t been thrilled with the idea, but her father wound up convincing her by repeating some of the same arguments River had made to him. She always loved it when he came down on her side like that. But they had both put some strict rules and conditions into place, which River had readily agreed to. It was going to be the adventure of a lifetime.
But after traveling through Germany, France, and Spain, her travels took her to Venice, and soon after, she’d fallen deeply in love with the city. She felt like it was home and decided she didn’t want to leave. So, she talked her best friend Evie, whom she’d been traveling with, into abandoning the rest of their itinerary and staying in Venice for the rest of their trip. That was about two months ago. And if River had her way, she’d be staying forever. But Georgetown and her life back in LA beckoned so she was trying to soak up as much of the city as she could before she had to pack up and go home.
River turned a corner and walked down the narrow lane. The two buildings on either side of her shoulders were so close, two of her wouldn’t have been able to walk abreast—and she was a small, petite girl. The building on her left was a faded yellow color and the one on her right was off-white. Patches of plaster were missing, revealing the red brick beneath it, which made River think it looked even more charming and authentic.
The lane ended at one of the canals that ran perpendicular to it, and she sat down on the edge, letting her feet dangle just a couple of feet above the water. Across the canal from her was a large building that was a dark, mustard-yellow color. Windows trimmed in brown with brown shutters lined each of the building’s three floors. Most of them were open and River could hear the sounds of the children laughing and giggling, some instruments were being tuned, as well as some of the voices.
River had found that spot by accident. On one of her first days in town, she’d been wandering and had gotten lost, and somehow wound up at the edge of the canal listening to the purest, most beautiful voices she’d ever heard in her life. She sat listening to the music and the accompanying choral or solo vocals and thought it was the sound that would greet you when you stepped through the gates and into heaven. River thought it truly was the sound of angels. It was serendipity that brought her to that place. It was as if the heavens thought she needed more beauty in her life and yet another reason to fall in love with Venice.
The building was some sort of a music school. She’d never worked up the nerve to find her way to the front entrance fearing it might shatter the purity of it all. River just wanted to sit there forever, soaking in the beauty of it all as she sipped her cappuccino. Closing her eyes, River leaned back against the wall and let the music wash over her, feeling as if she’d been transported to another world. A better, more beautiful world.
It was the perfect start to a beautiful day. She hated knowing that the days of her mornings starting off so amazingly would be coming to an end all too soon.
* * *
“What about him?”
River followed her best friend Evie’s gaze across the club to where a tall, good looking man was standing with a couple of his friends. She turned back to Evie and rolled her eyes.
“Not my type,” she said.
“That man is beautiful,” Evie replied. “He is everybody’s type.”
River laughed. “Not mine.”
“Come on, Riv,” she said with a grin. “You can’t go home a virgin. Part of the reason for traveling all over Europe was to find you a man you could give your v-card to.”
“No, that was your reason for traveling all over Europe,” River said. “I do recall you saying something about wanting to plant your flag in every country.”
This time it was Evie who laughed. “Oh yeah. I guess I did say that, huh?
“And you’ve made good on that goal.”
“What can I say? I’m an overachiever.”
They shared a laugh as River took a sip of her drink and looked around the club. The lighting was dim, it was hot from the crush of bodies writhing and grinding on the dance floor. Thankfully, the music wasn't so loud they had to shout to hear each other, but it was louder than River liked. There were good looking Italian men everywhere. Evie already had her hooks into a couple of different ones, making River wonder which one she'd be bringing back to the apartment that night. She sighed to herself, not looking forward to listening to the chorus of moans, groans, and bed squeaking she knew was on tap for later that night.
River didn’t understand why Evie was pressing her to lose her virginity before they got back to California. She didn’t understand why losing her v-card was such a big deal. It was sex. And she’d have more than enough time later to have as much as she wanted. River wasn’t a prude. She wasn’t one of those uptight, morally righteous girls who were “saving themselves” for marriage. She also wasn’t focused on finding and bedding as many European men as she could. River wanted this trip to be more about soaking in the local culture and enjoying sights she might not get to see again for a while.
“You’ll want to avoid that man. I know him. He is, as you Americans say… a pig.”
They both turned at the sound of the voice behind them and River drew in a sharp breath. Standing there was the most handsome man she’d ever seen in her life. Standing six-two, the man was lean with broad shoulders and a chest that was flat and toned. His torso was tapered, his arms tight with corded muscle, and a strong jawline dotted with fashionable stubble. His hair was light brown, his skin was olive-colored, and he had eyes the color of a warm cappuccino. River thought she could happily drown in them.