Page 84 of Wicked

As we stable the horses, we pass the open garage, and I see the sports car collection. It gets me thinking, and I turn to Dante. “I have an idea. Can we talk?”

Dante side-eyes me. “Why do I have a bad feeling about this?”

We walk around the castle and trees, then I stop out front of the large estate. It’s the front of the castle with the view down to the Tuscan village in the distance.

The road comes up and beautiful trees are on our left, the right dropping away to the cliff and beach.

“Okay, so where are the outer areas of the property?”

Dante points into the distance. “See that ridge and how it follows those trees? After it goes down to that lane and all the way to that road in the village, continue on, and it’s everything from the cliff and around the back of the castle.”

I nod and process fast. “It’s good flat land with a view. It’s perfect.” Dante raises a brow. “Okay, so this is how you do it!” I say.

Dante grins, but he looks like anon-believer. “And that is?”

“To first save the castle, you make a stylish theme park celebrating all things Italian. Turn a third of the unused land into bus and car parking. Keep that accessible. Ticket booths at that main gate,” I say, pointing.

“Then the flatter areas under the trees are for more male tourism related activities. A gladiator school and sword fighting. You know, medieval-type things, think Gladiator, 300 and Spartacus.”

Dante watches me, and Tito stares up.

“You then have someone focus on looking after the sports cars and you engage cool locals to drive people around this side of Tuscany. World-class cars, roads, and beaches. You even offer wine and lunch picnics.” Dante watches me, and he rubs his chin. “Also, have a lunchtime banquet, daily for fifty, maybe a hundred, if things take off. No one in the world cooks like Italians, and you cannot disagree with me there.”

I pause to make sure Dante is getting it.

“The inside of the castle can be used for celebrating Italian cuisine, with cooking classes and fashion classes. Even the history of Italian fashion. Think the Devil Wears Prada and… The Devil Eats Pasta.”

Dante shakes his head, and I make sure I don’t lose my flow.

“You have enough space in the castle, and the kitchen areas are huge. You already have plenty of props too, and your sister’s horse interests can be folded in. And your uncle’s wine making. Heck, he could even do classes on wine-tasting and wine-making.”

Our eyes meet, and I sense Dante coming around. It’s time to drive the sword deeper and finish the job. “You, old man, have the perfect location for a celebrate-all-things-Italian theme park. And if you choose to do so, you can bring in money and save the family jewel! You can also use those darned sports cars.”

Dante rubs his jaw, deeper in thought. “There’s twelve.”

“Whatever,” I say.

Dante slowly nods, and his eyes gleam, “It’s good, you get an A.”

“The heck I do, I get another F! And maybe one day if you’re really gentle, I let you give me an… A.”

Dante places an arm over me, and he drags me in. He looks around deep in thought, and I think I have him. “You may be right.”

“The key is,” I say, “you already have the location and many of the props.”

“But the team?” Dante says, “Who on earth will help, especially the cuisine? And inspire them about fashion?”

“There will be a way,” I say. “And it will bring money into the area and stimulate the economy.”

“I do get that bit,” Dante says, not needing to remind me he’s involved in some pretty big business things.

“I think it’s your destiny, and deep down, you know it is! Celebrate Italy and make it work!” I say, bumping against him. I stand on tiptoes and kiss him on the lips.

“I’ll think about it.”

“You better!” I say sternly.

As we head back, I catch Dante taking another look over his shoulder. He likely imagines billowing Italian flags, gladiator training, old Ferraris driving through vineyards, wine classes, fashion classes, and the smell of fresh pasta wafting through the castle.

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