Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 100605 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100605 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Matteo took two steps into the house, looked up, and froze. He blinked once and then very obviously looked me up and down.
“I, uh…” My face went hot, and I lifted my bag from the couch. “I forgot the bag with my clothes here when I went in to shower. Sorry.”
The corner of his lip twitched. “No need to apologize.”
I made a beeline back to the bathroom and shut the door, dressing in record time. When I came out, Matteo was sorting through a pile of mail like nothing had happened. He didn’t look up when he spoke.
“How was your shower?”
“Pretty amazing. You have great water pressure. It was like getting a massage.”
“I’m glad you enjoy yourself.” Matteo studied me. “Your hair. It is curly?”
I touched my ringlets. “It is before I spend an hour blow-drying it.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because otherwise I look like little orphan Annie?”
He smiled. Well, sort of. “Do you like drying it for an hour?”
I scoffed. “Definitely not. My hair is the bane of my existence. We have a long-standing love-hate relationship.”
“So why do you do it?”
“Because it looks better straight.”
His eyes swept over me. “I think you look fine just the way you are.”
Warmth spread through my belly. “That’s only because you haven’t seen it explode yet. My hair has this special talent of drying in all directions at once.”
“I’m sure it look bellissimi.”
“How was your day in Florence?”
He frowned. “I hate the big city. Too many people.”
On the plane ride over, I’d read that Florence had approximately 380,000 residents. “You’d hate where I live then. I’m pretty sure my building has roughly the same occupancy as your big city.”
“New York, yes?”
I nodded.
He shook his head. “I went once. I felt like that place was trying to kill me.”
I smiled. “That means she liked you. If you’re not feeling a little on edge, you didn’t experience her properly.”
Matteo lifted a brow. “Her? New York, it’s a she?”
“Of course. She’s that thirty-five-year-old single aunt who the moms with kids are envious of. She wears stilettos to brunch, swears like a sailor, and can parallel park like a pro while simultaneously cursing out a messenger on a bike.”
Matteo laughed. It was a deep, hearty rumble that I liked very much. Maybe too much. So it was time to go.
“Thank you for the use of your shower. I called two plumbers from my grandmother’s address book today, so hopefully I’ll have my own soon enough.”
“Who did you phone?”
“One was Sal and the other was Giuseppe, I think. My nonna’s script is beautiful but not the easiest to read.”
“Sal is gone. Married a Croatian and moved to Dubrovnik. Giuseppe is a good plumber, but he drinks a too much. Doesn’t get much work done anymore. You will be lucky if he calls you back.”
“Oh.” My shoulders slumped. “Would you have any plumbers to recommend?”
“No. But I can put a new tub for you.”
I waved my hands. “I can’t ask you to do that.”
He shook his head. “You did not ask.”
We were in the middle of rolling hills wine country, two and a half hours from the nearest big city. I wasn’t sure it would be so easy to find someone, and I really didn’t want to live without a shower. I chewed my lip. “Can I at least pay you for the day?”
Matteo frowned. “That is an insult.”
“How is it an insult?”
“That’s not how we do business here in Toscana. We help each other, not pay money.”
“Well, what can I help you with in return?”
He stroked his chin. “What skills do you have?”
“I’m a lawyer, so I’m really good at arguing.”
“I’m not sure I need someone to fight my battles. What else?”
I thought about it. I’d spent the last six years working eighteen hours a day, so there hadn’t been much time for sharpening other skills. “Umm… I’m really good at spotting a fake designer handbag.”
His lip quirked. “Be ready at six. You help me, and then we take a break and see about getting you a new tub.”
“Six…in the morning?”
“Yes, Allegra. Six in da morning.”
“What are we going to do at six in the morning?”
“You will see.”
I was a planner. Showing up unprepared wasn’t in my DNA. “Well, what should I wear?”
“A T-shirt is good, long sleeves are better. And pants, no shorts. Comfortable shoes. I bring the kneepads.”
My brows shot up. “Kneepads?”
He ignored me. “Borrow one of your grandmother’s big straw hats she keeps in da mudroom, too.”
“We’re going to be outside?”
He smiled. “It will not kill you. I promise.”
Chapter 7
Matteo
SHORTS. TANK TOP. Sandals. No hat.
This woman couldn’t be serious.
“Good morning.” Allegra smiled coming up the driveway.
I stood out front and looked at my watch. Ten after six. “You are late.”
“It’s your fault. I couldn’t figure out what to wear.”
“Did you miss da part where I told you long sleeves, pants, comfortable shoes, and a hat?”