Page 16 of Better Than Gelato
This child is brilliant. I wonder how much time she’s spent chatting with Marco’s models.
“Isa, I’m terrified for when you start dating. Those boys don’t stand a chance.”
Isa nods in agreement.
The buzzer rings at 6:58 p.m., and I take the elevator down. I wipe my sweaty hands on my thighs and take a breath.
Paolo sees me through the glass door, and his mouth falls open. By the time I make it over to him, he’s rearranged his expression into something more casual. But I know what I saw.
“Buona sera,” he says. “Don’t you look like a tempting treat.”
I give him a big smile. “Buona sera, Paolo,” I say. “You look very handsome yourself.”
He’s wearing a sharply tailored charcoal suit and a crimson tie. Will it be weird if I take a selfie with him to send to Maggie? He is hands down the best-looking guy I’ve ever gone out with.
His car is clean and smells like expensive cologne.
“So, is Italy living up to your expectations so far?” Paolo asks as he pulls out of the tiny parking lot.
“It’s exceeding all my expectations,” I reply. “My grandparents told me stories, but I was not prepared for how amazing this country is.”
“Shame you didn’t come last month,” Paolo says. “We took a group trip to Florence. Nowthatis a beautiful city.”
“That’s in Tuscany, right?”
“Correct. We rented some of those bikes for tourists because Diego wanted to ‘ride through the hills of Tuscany,’” Paolo says this like he’s reading from a travel brochure. “Valentina didn’t know how to ride a bike, but didn’t tell us, because she didn’t want to feel stupid and just pretended she knew what she was doing. She fell over a lot.”
It’s hard to imagine someone as lovely and graceful as Valentina falling off a bike. As Paolo talks, I keep my eyes on his face so I don’t watch his driving.
“So, what’s your story, Juliet?” he asks. “What brings you to Italy?”
“I’m a nanny.”
He smiles. “I know that. I’m askingwhyyou came to Italy as a nanny.”
“To escape,” I say accidentally.
Paolo raises an eyebrow. “What terrible things are you escaping?”
I sigh. “Business classes. And my future.”
Paolo nods like he knows just what I’m talking about. “I’ve found that the best way to stop worrying about the future is to distract yourself with all the pleasure you can get in the present.”
He gives me a smile, and I smile back.That sounds like a very good plan.
He parks his car in a spot barely big enough for a scooter, then opens my door and we cross the street to the theater.
Lanterns on tall hooks line the perimeter, making the stone building glow. We walk toward a line of elegantly dressed people, and I bring a hand to my giant necklace and stand up straighter. Once inside, Paolo leads me up three flights of stairs to a balcony suite with a center view of the stage. The theater is small, but a soaring ceiling makes the space feel grandiose. A large chandelier hangs above rows of red velvet seats.
“We have this whole space to ourselves?” I whisper. It comes out more suggestive than I mean.
“We do,” Paolo says smiling. “It's a company suite. We take clients out sometimes, if we’re trying to close a big deal.”
The whole thing is so fancy and elegant, I give up on playing it cool and just gush.
“This is dazzling. I’m dazzled.”
Paolo smiles, pleased. “Then my mission is accomplished.”
