Page 33 of I Think Olive You

“You okay?”

Giuliana looks over at me, almost startled to hear me speak, as if she forgot I was here for a moment.

“Uh… this feels kind of wrong. Like corporate espionage,” she whispers at the end, and I have to fight off a chuckle.

“Trust me, this sort of thing happens all the time. We’re not here to do anything but have an experience. An experience which, I might add, is not only public, but advertised. If it happens to be inspiring, then that’s a bonus.”

Letting out a huge sigh, her face pinches in conflict.

“Matteo… What should I say? If I come across so nervous, they will know I am lying.”

“Let me take care of it. No one will expect me to be anything but an American tourist.” I give what I hope is a charming grin, trying to bolster my courage even though I know I’m quickly falling down a treacherous slope and every minute with her makes the descent quicker.

“What if they recognize my name? Abundantia is a much smaller farm and we aren’t really competition… but what if it backfires?”

“What if it works out perfectly? Look, I won’t use your name. Just leave it to me. We need to come across as normal as possible.”

Our shoes crunch on the gravel walkway. The arch opens up to a beautiful garden of plants lazy with heavy heads of blooms exploding in riotous color. A fountain sits at the center, babbling water soothing to me and I clasp Giuliana’s hand in mine before walking toward the open door off to the side.

“What are you?—”

“Trust me,” is all I say before I plaster a smile on my face and greet the receptionist.

“Buongiorno. Come posso aiutarla?”

“Hello, you don’t happen to speak English, do you… Francesca?” I ask, reading her nametag. It takes everything in me not to feel like a dick for what I’m about to do, but I have a part to play.

“Yes, of course. How can we help today?”

“I saw online you offer tours of the grove. My girlfriend and I were passing through the area and were hoping to be added to your list.”

“Ah, I’m very sorry sir, today’s tour is unavailable as the villa is booked for a private event.”

Figures. Making decisions on a whim rarely pays off. I’m in the biggest mess of my life because of an impulsive decision to come to Italy and claim an olive grove that technically (partly) belongs to me.

Shit. What the hell do I do now? Gotta come up with something, and quick. They’re not going to give two shits about some American and his girlfriend. We’ll have to up the stakes. I’m not smart enough to outwit anyone but I can be pretty convincing if I play into the emotional aspect of things.

Here it comes. Another fuck up.

No. This will work. It has to.

Schooling my face into the appropriate disappointment, I give Giuliana a sad look and shrug. Her expression of confusion melts into one of similar sadness and I have to tamp down a smile at her willingness to play along.

“I’m sorry, darling. That’s what I get for trying to be spontaneous.” I plant a soft kiss against Giuliana’s temple, and feel super proud for only spending like two seconds breathing her in.

Yeah, the fucking paragon of restraint.

“Do you have a restroom? I know it’s inconvenient but we drove an hour to get here so I’d appreciate it if—” I ask the receptionist and she agrees, gesturing toward a door off to the side of the lobby.

“—thank you, I’ll just be a minute. Giuliana, why don’t you enjoy the garden?”

She raises her eyebrow at me but nods, leaving without questioning my motives and I know this is my last opportunity.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to say anything in front of her.” I lean forward over the desk as if getting ready to impart a secret. Francesca comes in closer, curious.

“I feel like a total idiot. I knew I should have made reservations but I just got permission from her father and I didn’t want to waste another minute.” It’s breathless, the fake excitement undercut with sheepishness.

Jesus Christ, you’re actually going for it, you crazy son of a bitch.

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