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)
The bus cleared the turn, its tires spitting rocks over the mountain’s cliff, and we continued our journey. My cousin had told me his apartment would be empty the weekend after Allegra and I had gone to dinner, so I didn’t have to wait long to get her alone again. Though I would’ve paid Antonio to stay in a suite at the Ritz-Carlton if it meant I could have a couple of nights alone with Allegra in his small two-bedroom apartment.
Now that the panic of the last turn was behind us, Allegra was glued to the window. I couldn’t blame her. The view was spectacular, though I was usually too annoyed with the tourist traffic to see it this way. Pastel villages had been built into the mountainside, and the Tyrrhenian Sea sparkled in turquoise and sapphire beneath.
“Wow,” she said. “Could we pull over up ahead at that stand? I’d love to take a picture.”
“Of course.”
Once we stopped, Allegra leaned against the stone wall, looking out at Amalfi. The wind tugged at her hair, and I could feel her big smile inside my chest. I’d grown up with views like this, but watching her take it in made it feel new. I wanted her to remember the way my country could make her feel.
“Let me take your picture,” I said.
“Okay.”
She handed me her phone and struck a playful pose, kicking up one leg and smiling as she squinted into the sun. It made me wish I’d taken the picture with my phone instead of leaving it in the car, so I’d have it to keep.
Two ladies were shopping at the fruit stand about a meter away, and I asked one of them to take a photo of us together. That might’ve been a first, me volunteering to have my picture taken. I’d always shied away from cameras. We both smiled, but I wasn’t looking at the woman taking the photo. I was too busy looking at Allegra, memorizing the small dimple on her left cheek that came out only when her smile was big enough.
“Are you hungry?” I asked. “There’s a restaurant not too far that makes da best frutti di mare. The owner’s brother owns a fishing boat, and the pasta is made with whatever is caught fresh.”
Allegra nodded. “That sounds amazing.”
Il Pescato del Giorno was off the beaten path, the kind of place tourists made it to only if a local drew them a map. But I would’ve been happy sitting anywhere looking across at this woman.
Allegra chewed her bottom lip once we were seated and the waiter had taken our order. “So…I did something that I’m not sure is a mistake or not.”
“Oh?”
“I made an appointment at my sister’s law firm for tomorrow. With her.”
“Are you not sure if it’s a mistake because you’re going to speak to her at her office rather than outside of her work?”
She took a deep breath and let it out. “I’m not sure if speaking to her at all is a good idea. She practices corporate law, so I made up some story about wanting to start a business in Italy and not knowing where to begin.”
“So you’re going to go and not tell her who you are? Might she know your name already?”
Allegra nibbled her nail. “I made the appointment under my assistant’s name, Cassie Norman, just in case.”
“What do you hope to get out of the meeting?”
She shook her head. “I have no damn idea. And honestly, I might chicken out and cancel.”
I smiled. “I have the feeling you’ve never, as you say, chickened out of anything.”
“Did you forget me telling you how I dealt with not getting made a partner? I had too much to drink, told the senior partner he had a little dick, and quit. I have a history of taking the wrong route to deal with my problems.”
“Half the battle in not repeating mistakes is knowing we’ve made them in the past and learning from them. If you could go back, how would you have handled things with your boss?”
She was quiet a moment before smirking. “I do look back fondly on having told Harry what I thought of his manhood. But I suppose I should’ve called him out for passing me over in favor of a less-competent woman in a more professional manner, made my argument on the merits.”
“It will probably be easier to get closure about your family if you get answers to the questions that matter most.”
“I know. I’m just not sure if I’m ready to open that box fully. Because once it’s open, I’ll never be able to put everything back in the same way. Yet I am curious about her—what she’s like. Does she fidget when she’s thinking like my father and I do? Does she get bumps on her chest when she’s nervous? Is she happy? Does she have other siblings? I’m kind of hoping she’s the type who has a bunch of personal pictures in frames.”