Page 39 of Bella Rosa
Matteo puts the car in park and cuts the engine. It’s well after ten o'clock now. The street is unusually quiet and empty.
He grabs my hand and walks with me to the front door of Alda's, then turns to stand in front of me. He settles both hands on the sides of my neck and then uses his thumb to tilt my chin up so I meet his eyes.
"I'll pick you up at eleven in the morning. Make sure you bring your bathing suit." He bends down so he can kiss me on the lips and then my forehead before he opens the front door for me. "Goodnight, Rosa."
I walk backwards into the lobby, unable to look away. "Goodnight."
I close the door behind me and start walking up the stairs to my room. I'm in such a daze I don't even remember unlocking my door. I lay back in the middle of my bed and look up at the ceiling fan. My still damp hair spread out around me. I take in a deep breath and close my eyes.
I lay there for a few minutes, thinking about the day. What an amazing day! I really had such a great time at the market, lunch, making gelato, dinner, what came after dinner—well, everything really. I suddenly remember the photos I took at the market this morning.
I jump up so fast I get a little dizzy and almost fall back down. I grab my laptop and start uploading my photos from the day. I should be writing the article for Foodie, but all I want to do is write a blog post and edit some of my photos from the market.
While my photos are uploading I decide to check all the notifications I ignored on my phone today. I received an email from Susan this morning. Dread fills me as I click on the email. No one wants to hear from Susan in the middle of a job. I've heard horror stories from some of the staff writers. She likes to change things up in the middle of an assignment.
Hello Rosalie,
I hope you're staying on track with your article while on your trip. Let me know if you need anyone to help you. I know the first assignment can be tricky. I just got an email from an old friend in the Azzurro area. He just opened a restaurant downtown and wants you to come by next week. I want to make sure his restaurant is featured in the article. I'll attach his address and phone number so you can connect with him. Make sure you feature him toward the beginning of the article. I want him to have a prime spot.
Thanks,
Susan Williams | Editor and Chief, Foodie Magazine
I look at the attachment and do a quick search of the restaurant. I scroll through the search results. A stereotypical tourist joint. Great. I mean, their menu is only pictures. How am I even supposed to be able to tell what I'm eating?
I lay back on the bed again and take another deep breath. I follow the pattern of the texture on the ceiling and contemplate my life choices.
I finally get this big opportunity, and Susan has to hijack the entire thing. I guess it really doesn't matter. I feel like I'm a robot writing that article anyway. I know what's expected of me. Embellish the truth if necessary, sales are key. Feature spots that are most likely to get views and become a trending destination. The same old song and dance, except now, I'm the one that has to do all the writing. It's always been different when I was the one editing. Now I feel like a fake, like I'm not authentic.
I hear my computer ding signaling the upload is complete. I sit up and pull my laptop onto my lap. As I scroll through my photos from today I get butterflies in my stomach. They're so raw and honest. My heart skips a beat when I find one I took of Matteo standing in the kitchen. He had no idea I even took the photo. I had gone to the restroom, and I found him this way when I returned. I couldn't help myself, I had to take a photo. This might be my favorite photo I've ever taken. I won't post that one on my blog though. I couldn't bear to share him with the rest of the world.
I have a feeling most people don't get to see this side of him. In his element. Relaxed. Focused. I'm sure his employees get a glimpse, but not like this. His guard is down. He's vulnerable. It's breathtaking.
I force myself to look away, so I pull up my blog's dashboard in a new tab. 10,000 page views in the last twenty-four hours. Holy shit. Hundreds of messages, comments, and shares. I have to pick my jaw up off the floor. There's no way I'm reading that right. I can't be.
I scroll through my analytics. That's correct. 10,000 people viewed my page. Most of the views came from my last post. I never thought a post titled Street Gardens of the Eden Valley would get so much attention.
I do some digging and find out my blog got shared on a much larger travel site. I've gained over 700 new followers as well. Wow.
I lean back against the headboard and take it all in. I read through all of the comments and reply to as many as I can. Obviously there are some mean comments here and there, but for the most part they are wonderful. It's so fun to hear how much people are enjoying my writing.
A few comments stand out above the rest.
This has inspired me to start my own garden!
I love this! My nana had a garden when I was growing up. She would always let me help tend to it. Some of my best memories. This is a tradition I hope to start with my kids some day.
This made me add the Eden Valley to my travel list!
I can't believe this. I pick up my phone to share the good news. The first person I find myself texting is Matteo.
Me:One of my blog posts went viral!
Matteo:I think you've found your voice, Rosa.
I fire off the same text to Juli and she responds with an animated penguin dance and "Hell yeah!" written at the bottom.
I hit the button to start a new blog post with a smile on my face. I feel like I've found my people, and that's a pretty good feeling.
