Page 72 of Out of the Gold

Chase

The pilot announceswe’ll be arriving in Rome within minutes. I’ve been holding Melody’s hand ever since she returned from the bathroom, so I bring it up to my lips. “Ready to go back to Amalfi?”

“It’s like we never left,” she quips, winking at me.

As soon as we land, I turn on my phone to a bunch of missed texts from Mark, Thomas, Jessa, Lindsay, and Noble. I open Noble’s and my breath catches. “No filming until Monday.”

“Yeah, just read Judith’s text.” She bites her bottom lip. “Whatever bug everyone else has, they better keep it to themselves.”

“That’s true.” I glance out the window as we taxi toward the airport. The thought of getting on a helicopter right now to return us to the Amalfi Coast makes my stomach turn sour. “Want to take a slow route back to Ravello?”

Melody’s eyes light up. “I like the sound of that. I’m sick of traveling by air, truth be told.”

A girl after my own heart. “Twenty hours on a plane in twenty-five hours is enough.” We both laugh. “How about I rent a car and drive us back? We’ll take our time and enjoy. No rush.”

“Sounds wonderful to me, Charles.”

The way she says myrealname makes me want to bare more of my soul to her. I did play violin in front of her and she didn’t laugh. It’s been so long since I’ve touched base with the real Charles, though, I’m afraid I don’t know who he is anymore. But with Melody, I want to try.

We’re out inthe Italian countryside, passing small villages on our way to the Amalfi Coast. Melody’s quiet. I glance over to make sure she’s awake, and her amber eyes greet mine. “Enjoying the ride?”

“I am. Such a beautiful country.”

“It is. And it’s produced so many wonderful artists.” I purse my lips. No one knows I was an art history minor in college. Well, that’s not true. My fellow acting students knew and mocked my interest in the masterpieces. Ones I’ve had the pleasure of seeing in person. During this trip alone, I’ve seen Michelangelo, da Vinci, Botticelli, and my favorite Raphael. I’m living my secret dream.

“I don’t know too much about art,” she confesses. “I do enjoy going to museums, though. So many gorgeous paintings. They take my breath away.”

Perhaps I can dip my toe? “Yes, the museums here boast originals. In the towns they were created.”

She doesn’t laugh in my face. In fact, her gaze wanders, then returns to me. “I know. I spent hours looking atThe Davidin Florence. Although,” she licks her lips, “now that I’ve seen you, I think Michelangelo used the wrong model.”

I chuckle. “No, I don’t hold a candle toThe David.”

She wiggles her eyebrows, her gaze firmly on my crotch. “Don’t sell yourself short.”

I bring her hand over for a kiss. Releasing her, words fall out of my mouth. “I was an art history minor in college, actually. I learned all about the masters. Whenever I’m on set, I always make it a point to go to a museum to check out their collections. I’d be more than happy to take you on a museum tour while we’re here.”

When my confession is over, I clench my jaw. Did I reveal too much? Will she think I’m a pussy? Why did I share this part of me?

“I think that is so cool. You’re a regular renaissance man.” Her lips bus my cheek.

Her praise seeps into all my pores. She doesn’t think my studies were ridiculous, like my parents did. Although, now that I can buy and sell their life savings many times over, they’re more forgiving. At least they approve of my choice of career, especially since they can show me off to their friends.

“I’m not too sure a renaissance man would be playing a superhero.”

She rubs her finger over my cheek, getting rid of her lipstick. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe not Doctor Manipul8, but a Shakespearean one.”

At her oblique mention of my audition, I tense. I’ve done a damn good job of putting it out of my mind. I want that role so bad I can taste it. It’s not up to me now, though. “Well, we’ll see about that.”

Her stomach rumbles and she places her arm over it. “Excuse me.”

I chuckle. “Better feed my woman. You’re going to need your strength for later.” I wiggle my eyebrows, and her complexion pinkens. So cute. I’m falling for this woman. Hard.

Soon we enter a small town where I park. Placing a cap on my head for a disguise, I guide her toward the nearest restaurant. It has an overly large carved mahogany door that’s wide-open. The odors of fresh garlic, tomatoes, and lemons dance across my nose.

“Look good, Goldie?”

“It looks beyond fabulous. My mouth is already watering.”

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