Full Moon in Florence (13 page)

Laine lay there thinking. They had recovered last night. They had started from the beginning and ended up sharing a night of passionate lovemaking. Almost perfect.

Laine frowned. What now?

She didn’t want to ruin that beautiful memory. Especially that one sweet moment when he had looked down at her, smiling, telling her she looked like a painting. He had looked so happy, so enamored, and Laine had felt so….what?… Loved?

Yes, loved.

She shook out that thought. It was true, she had felt that, but she was reading too much into that one look. They still barely knew each other. He appreciated her in
that
moment. Of course he did. They’d both been drunk on desire. That’s what happened in moments like that. It felt like love, looked like love, but that didn’t mean it
was
love. It couldn’t be. Not after two sexy encounters. When Colin opened his eyes this morning he wouldn’t be looking at her like that. He’d probably be surprised to find her in his bed. The bridge between ‘last night’ and ‘this morning’ was always rickety. If you attempted to cross it, you did so at your own risk.

Laine slipped out of bed. She would let Colin sleep. She would sneak back to her own room. She had work to do anyway. She was sure she had a pile of emails to deal with from Tina and Mark. She didn’t want to face a look of disappointment from Colin when he woke up. She didn’t think she could handle even a questioning look, a ‘what are you still doing in my bed’ kind of look.

Laine gathered up her stockings, dress, and lingerie. Catching a fleeting glimpse of herself in the gilded mirror above the bureau, she saw that her hair was a tangled mess and her eyeliner had smudged. Colin shouldn’t have to wake up to that. She slipped into her wrinkled dress and carried the rest of her stuff in her arms. She took one last look at Colin sleeping. His eyes roved under his lids and one of his hands twitched. He was still dreaming.

She snuck out, feeling a mixture of sadness, guilt, and, if she were honest with herself, a sense of cowardliness. Doing her best to shrug that off, she padded back to her room down the hall. As she passed the elevator, she heard its mechanical hum as it descended. Each floor had a windowed door to the elevator and as it passed, you could see who was in it, and they could see out. The old German couple was behind the glass. Probably on their way down to breakfast — Laine’s tummy rumbled at the thought. The white-haired woman saw Laine and lifted her hand to wave. Then she must have seen Laine’s state of dishevelment, her bare feet (darn, she’d left her shoes behind) and the woman’s wizened mouth turned down at the corners, as if she knew what Laine had been up to. She hurried past. The elevator dropped out of sight.

Colin

Colin was slow to rouse from a disturbing dream. In it, he and Laine had been hiking through a beautiful mountain wilderness. As they followed a path through the trees, they passed classic works of art hanging from the trunks of trees. They paused and talked about the painter’s techniques, the different styles of the various periods, the stories and rumours behind some of the paintings. It all seemed quite normal that the framed works of art were displayed in the forest. After a while, they came to the edge of a very deep ravine. Strung across the ravine was a narrow suspension bridge. All of a sudden, Laine wasn’t with Colin anymore. She was on the other side of the ravine, at the other end of the bridge. It was obvious to Colin that he needed to cross the bridge to get to Laine. It was imperative. He started to cross. The bridge swayed under his weight. He was overcome by a heady fear. He’d forgotten he was afraid of heights. He took another step anyway. He had to get to Laine. He could see that she’d taken a step toward him as well. This gave him courage. With each step the bridge swayed more. Laine’s steps were affecting the bridge, too. Colin held on to the rope handrails and kept moving forward.

Then the dream jumped and he was now standing in the middle of the bridge. The gorge below was deep and a fast flowing river roared down its center. But Laine was there with him, and Colin was so happy. They stood across from one another, hands held out to each other. They were both dressed very formally. She in a gown, he in a suit, as if they were going to a wedding. Colin reached for Laine’s hands, and just as his fingers intertwined with hers, the plank they were standing on snapped, the bridge rocked, the rope rails unraveled. They both started falling…

Colin gripped the bedsheets as if they were the falling rope rails. He woke up startled and breathless. He wanted to tell Laine about the dream. He rolled over, stretching his hand out to feel her warm skin, smiling at the memory of their shared pleasure the night before.

The bed was empty.

He looked around the room. Her clothes were gone.

Colin’s heart sank.

Laine

Laine did have a heap of emails to contend with. Once she’d logged in, using the hotel password,
amore vero
, she’d felt that pang of guilt again. Maybe she should have left a note for Colin. But what would she say? Thanks? She decided to fire off a quick email to his account.

There was a lot more she wanted to say, but she was afraid she wouldn’t choose the right words. It would be better if they saw each other in person again later. It might be awkward, but she didn’t want him to think she wasn’t interested. She was just a bit scared. Afraid to fall too hard. She couldn’t bear to be cast off again, the way Richard had cast her off. She didn’t think Colin was like that, but how could she be sure? Better to take things slowly, to not have too many expectations just yet, to not reveal the fullness of her desires.

Should she write and suggest lunch?

As Laine was about to compose that email, a Skype call rang through. It was Tina. Her perky smile filled Laine’s laptop screen.

“So? How’s it going?” Her eyes roamed around, taking in Laine’s expression. “I’m looking for a glow… Ah, there it is. So what’s he like? Tell me
everything
.”

“Tina, stop. This is not professional.”

Tina frowned. “Are you back to being the dour librarian? Tell me it’s not true.”

“No, it’s good. We… you know, went out for dinner last night.”

Tina’s eyebrows lifted. “
And
…?”

Laine ran her fingers through her sleep-tangled hair.

“It was delicious.” Laine smiled, enjoying dragging this out for Tina.

“Tell me you had dessert.”

Laine nodded. “Uh huh. Tiramisu.”

“Please tell me you had
second
dessert.” Tina closed her eyes as if offering a small prayer.

Shyly, Laine said. “We did.”

“Amen.
And
… how was it?”

“Perfect.”

Tina beamed. “And this was just last night?”

Laine nodded. Tina’s eyes roamed around the screen again. “So where are you now? It’s what? Barely 9 AM there. Are you in your hotel room?”

Laine nodded.

“Is he there?” Tina asked in hushed whisper.

Laine shook her head. Tina frowned.

“Why not?”

“We were in his room. I slipped out.”

“Without saying goodbye?”

Laine shrugged.

Tina’s eyes narrowed. “Are you playing hard to get?”

“No!”

“Then what’s the deal? Why aren’t you romping around again this morning, ordering breakfast in, painting each other with cannoli cream or something?”

Such thoughts hadn’t even occurred to Laine.

“It ended up being a perfect night. I didn’t want to ruin it by overstaying my welcome.”

Tina’s head dropped into her hands for a few seconds and then she looked up at the screen. “Laine. Beautiful Laine. Beautiful
screwed up
, Laine.”

“What?”

“You flew friggn’ 8,000 miles to find out if he’s ‘the one’. Now, I’m all for some take-it-then-leave-it fun, and by all means, move on to some hot Italian buns if you’re done with the Brit, but the impression I got before you left was that this was a ‘big deal’. Did you slip away without a word because you were let down, because he’s
not
the one?”

Laine put down her comb. She felt confused, embarrassed. She shook her head. “No. I wanted to stay…”

“Then why didn’t you?”

“I was scared, I guess. I didn’t want to ruin a good memory, and he left that first time, so maybe it’s better this way.”

“Not better. It’s
safer
. Maybe it means you can bypass that awkwardness, but if you want more than one night, you’re going to have to get past that.”

Laine bit her lip.

“Laine, Baby. You need to exercise your confidence. You’ve got nothing to lose but your own ego.”

“That’s no small thing.”

Tina shrugged. “Small sacrifice for true love.”

Laine sighed. “I should just forget it all. I’m here to work.”

“Work schmerk. You’re only picking up a friggin’ painting. How hard can that be?”

Laine thought about Antonio barging in to Lorenzo’s office yesterday. The situation seemed a little more complicated than she first thought.

“It’s beautiful, you know.”

“What is?”

“The painting. The Botticelli.”

“No doubt. What about the dude donating it?
Lorenzo
.”

Laine leaned back in her chair. “I guess he’s beautiful too, and very charming.”

Tina raised an eyebrow. “Is he distracting you from the sexy Brit?”

“Of course not, it’s a professional situation.”

Tina rolled her eyes. “Just do whatever you have to do to bring that painting back.The whole team’s counting on it.”

“I know. I’ll work it out.”

Laine heard the email notification saying she had new messages. “I’d better sign off.”

“Call me later. And Laine…”

“Yeah?”

“Take a risk with Colin. I know it feels scary, but don’t hold back. Try to come home with more than just a memory.”

Laine smiled at her friend. “Ciao, Bella.”

Tina hung up.

Before checking her incoming emails, she sent off another note to Colin suggesting lunch.

Maybe at lunch she’d risk telling Colin her true feelings, including her fears and her worries, but, more importantly, her hopes and desires.

They only had a few days together in Florence. Laine didn’t want to be afraid to make the most of it.

When she did check her email, she saw a message from Lorenzo. He said he needed to discuss something important with her about the painting as soon as possible. He suggested saying it was the only free time he had during the day.

Laine was disappointed to cancel on Colin, but her work had to come first. Everyone back home was counting on her. Once this painting acquisition was squared away, she’d be able to focus solely on him.

After writing a second quick email to Colin, she wrote to Lorenzo to confirm the lunch date and then she jumped in the shower.

Colin

After showering, Colin checked his email and found a note from his seller contact, Rafaello. There seemed to be some problem with purchasing the painting. That was frustrating. Colin didn’t want to disappoint a brand new client. He might have to offer a higher price.

While ruminating, a new email came through. From Laine. Impatiently, Colin clicked on it.

Thank you for last night. It was perfect. L

That was it?

Colin sat back in his chair. Huh. What was he to make of that? She’d enjoyed herself and then she’d run away? Normally, that was just fine with him. Not this time. He had a hard time admitting, even to himself, that he’d been hurt by her silent departure.

Should he write back and tell her that? Or should he play it cool?

Before he’d fallen asleep last night, he’d imagined waking up with Laine, making love to her again, and then having a leisurely breakfast. He pictured the two of them visiting the Florentine sites and then rushing back to the hotel room to have sex again, and then going out to eat delicious food, and then rushing back to have sex again. A perfect day to follow a perfect night.

Another email came through from Laine. She wanted to know if Colin wanted to meet for lunch. As he counted to ten before replying (
of course
he wanted to meet her for lunch, and every other meal after that, and all the moments in between), his mobile rang.

He found himself lunging for it, hoping it was Laine, but it was only Rafaello.

“The seller is running into a problem,” said Rafaello.

“I thought it was a done deal, Raf. Everything went so smoothly on the last deal. Don’t let me down on this one.”

“Do you have some flexibility with the offer price?”

“Possibly.” Colin didn’t like to lay all his cards on the table too soon.

“More money might make a difference. I’ll try to arrange another meeting.”

“Don’t
try
, just do it. Lady Allbright could prove to be a lucrative client, which means more Italian art bought through you, but we’ve got to make her happy with this first deal.”

“I understand. Ciao.”

By the time Colin returned to his computer another email had arrived from Laine. This one canceled her original lunch offer saying she had to work. Colin was bummed out. But at the end of her message, she suggested dinner and drinks instead, and this made Colin happy again.

Tonight was the full moon. Maybe he’d take her for a row along the Arno. He’d seen a brochure about in the lobby. It sounded romantic.

Colin glanced at Laine’s shoes still sitting on the chair by the door. Last night he’d promised to get them fixed. It was a small gesture, but he wanted to do that for her. He headed out to run that errand while he waited to hear back from Raf.

Laine

Laine met up with Lorenzo on the terrace of the Caffe de Medici.

He stood up when she arrived, brought her hand to his lips again, asked her very courteously to sit down. He’d already ordered a bottle of wine. He poured some into her glass.

“How are you enjoying Florence so far?”

“I haven’t seen much yet, but so far it seems beautiful, and very romantic.” She was remembering the sweet moments from last night.

“Ah, then you have already discovered the true heart of Florence.” He held her gaze with a charming smile. Were all Italian men this flirty? Or was Laine reading too much into his looks?