Page 56 of I Think Olive You

“I do have a question before we finish up here. Giuliana’s talking about adding a B&B on the grove in addition to her volunteer program. Does she need any extra permissions to do that, since the land is probably only sectioned for farming?”

“Ah agriturismo, it’s a good idea! In the villa?”

“The old farmhouse,” I say, and his brows raise in surprise.

“That surprises me, but it makes sense and gives the guests some privacy.”

My curiosity gets the better of me and I ask before I can think it through. “Why is that a surprise?”

The house is sitting there, decaying. Why wouldn’t it be the immediate thought?

“After the accident I didn’t think her family wanted anything to do with the farmhouse, but now that Lorenzo is dead, I suppose it doesn’t make much of a difference.”

“Accident?”

He smacks his forehead. “You look so much like your father I forget you’re not from here. After Aria’s death, Lorenzo had the big house built and your father left the country. There were some rumors because he left so quickly, but it was just a tragic accident. The incident drove them apart though, and Lorenzo never spoke of your father again.”

“She died?” The word “rumors” ricochets inside my head and a chill snakes up my spine. Isabella left out some important information.

“Yes, but like I said, it was just an accident and it’s in the past. With regards to Giuliana needing permission, I can give you a list of things she needs to register it as an agriturismo.”

While he jots down bulleted steps on a lined page for me, I flick my last signature onto the final page. I’m left with this weird bittersweet twist in my chest. I want to find out more about my father and his time here, but part of me never wants to think about him ever again. Regardless, I need to focus on the present. I’ve let go of my part in Palmer Enterprises and what my father left for me when he died. All that matters now is the legacy I’m determined to protect: Giuliana’s.

“Can you do me another favor? Can you email and fax this contract over to this person?” I slide Alan’s business card over to Andrea and thank him for his help. He makes a copy of the new contract and when I head back to Abundantia it’s with a brittle determination to see it through.

I seek Giuliana out, Andrea’s note about the B&B in my back pocket and the contract safely delivered to Isabella. She’s promised to keep it to herself until I’m gone and I can only hope she’ll stick to that.

Staring out at the grove, Giuliana sits in her office with her head resting in her hand. She must be so exhausted. Startling when she sees me, her fatigue gives way to a carefully blank expression.

“Something wrong?”

“No, I just wanted to check in with you. It’s been a couple of days.” Since that day in the kitchen where we played with fire and the smoke still cloys the back of my throat with emotion I can’t put a name to.

“Running things alone is harder than I anticipated. Even though he was too sick to do the work, my father was there to give me advice last year. Umberto was here to help with the heavy lifting.”

“Is the issue with him resolved?” I’ve been so busy with the farmhouse I forgot to pester Isabella with more questions.

“It seems like it. Between Nonna’s network from her old shop in Gravina, and Arturo’s mill connections with all the groves in the area… they did a fantastic job of getting him blacklisted. No one in this industry will touch him with a ten-foot pole now. His reputation is ruined.”

“Wow, remind me not to get on their bad sides. Again. Your nonna only just started speaking to me in English. The last thing I need is for her to ice me out again.”

Her tired expression shifts into a tiny smile and I tuck it away like a little charm—mine to keep.

“She made me promise not to tell you. Our bet was whether the volunteer would leave within the first month. If you proved yourself by then she’d cut the act. I told her that first night not to underestimate you.”

“So that’s what the bet was all about. I’ve been wondering. What did you win for being right?” I smirk and raise an eyebrow.

Giuliana huffs out a little laugh that turns somber. “My prize was a volunteer who stuck around. Which, I’m sorry. I know I should be doing better with the program but stuff is getting away from me and…”

And I keep pushing the limits—testing the line that stands between us.

“I understand. I…”

Thoughts of what I should say dance around my mind: I’m leaving. I don’t want to go. I’ve never felt like this before. But I settle for something tamer, more neutral.

“I have a surprise for you.”

Reluctance twists her features. Her mouth—that gorgeous fucking mouth—ready to shoot me down without even knowing my intention. Given how my previous surprise went, I can’t blame her.

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