An Apartment in Venice (6 page)

Giulia sucked in a breath and felt off kilter. Had she been tricked? The wine sloshed in her glass, but she managed to steady it as Chuck stepped through the door.

The contrast between the two big men was amazing. Not in size, Marc was only a couple of inches taller than Chuck, but with Chuck’s dark color, they were a matched pair of opposites. His pale, ice-blue eyes struck a deep chord in her again. Then a crazy image came to mind. She was six years old standing in front of the shelves that held her mom’s dog collection; Giulia’s favorites were two magnetic Scotties. One black, one white. As soon as her mother left to check on her baby brothers, Giulia grabbed those Scotties, turned them back to back, and watched them snap around face to face.

Had Marc and Chuck sniffed each other out before deciding to be friends? She almost laughed aloud. That jerked her straight back into the room. At least a smile wiped away the frown she surely must have worn when Chuck entered.

Marc struck the side of his head. “You must be Giulia,” and he strode across the room. “I apologize for forgetting you were coming tonight. When I met Chuck over in Venice, I dragged the
povero diavolo
back with me. He stopped kicking and screaming when he heard Nonna’s lasagne was on the menu.” Marc stuck out his hand. Giulia set her glass of wine down and stood up to greet him.

“Ciao, Marc. Glad to meet you. I’ve heard only good things about you.”

“Whoa.” Marc beamed. “Has she been telling lies again?”

“Maybe,” Giulia said with a little grin.

Chuck hung back looking worried. And well he should if he had anything to do with this “surprise.”

“Come in, Chuck. Have you met Giulia yet? She teaches at the base, too.”

Chuck seemed to regain his composure and moved forward. “Ciao, Giulia. It’s good to see you again.” When they shook hands, she felt the same heat race through her as before.

Marlowe gave Chuck a welcome hug. “Maybe this is as good a time as any to begin plotting against Oliver,” she said. “But Marc, let’s get Chuck a glass of red first, and I’ll put the lasagna in.”

Marc brought wine to Chuck, and left to work on the salad. Giulia still felt disoriented. She looked into the kitchen and saw Marc grabbing Marlowe’s rear as she bent over the oven. He reached under her skirt and pulled her into a backward hug, but she whirled around to give him a kiss and whispered to him. Giulia looked away but heard a rumbly chuckle from Marc.
That sounded like marital bliss.
She had to admit, it looked appealing. Then she noticed Chuck eyeing the couple with what seemed to be a deeper longing. She turned to stare into the fire and sipped her wine. She felt side-swiped. Her emotions were all over the place. Even though she tended to believe Chuck’s unexpected arrival was accidental, she needed time to compose herself.

* * *

What a beauty she is in that girlie yellow dress showing her smooth shoulders. But damn. Does she think I’m stalking her? A couple of times I did happen to pass her building about the time I thought her class would let out. Maybe she’d seen me. And , yes, I was in the cafeteria a few times when I thought she’d be there, but only once did I stop by to say a few words. Something stupid no doubt.

He took a seat facing her from the other side of the coffee table and blurted, “Giulia, I hope you don’t think I’ve been stalking you. I admit I’ve been in the same place as you a time or two, but this was not my doing.”

“Unless Marc is a consummate liar, I’ve figured that out. But,” she allowed herself a small smile, “your spying skills could use some work.”

“Was I that obvious?”

“Probably not. Maybe my anti-stalking skills are working overtime.”

“My God, has someone else been following you?”

She nodded. “Last week when I delivered a package for my grandfather, someone skulked behind me, but I lost him.”

He hadn’t missed her smug smile and wondered if she enjoyed a touch of danger, but he said, “What’d he look like? Have you seen him since?”

Before Giulia could answer, Marc and Marlowe joined them and the conversation took a different turn.

* * *

The affectionate bantering between Marc and Marlowe helped lighten Giulia’s mood, and when the lasagna’s aroma rose from her plate, she realized how little she’d eaten all day. She tucked in like an Oregon lumberjack and devoured the huge serving. When Marc brought the large baking dish to the table offering seconds, Giulia took more. She wasn’t alone in her appreciation of the savory dish, everyone around the table made satisfied humming sounds. She felt embarrassed when she couldn’t finish until she noticed Marlowe had taken too much, too. Giulia hopped up to help clear plates while Marc began working his magic with the salad.

Marlowe brought chilled salad bowls from the fridge and Marc cracked a fresh egg over greens already mixed with crushed garlic in a large bowl. A quick toss and with a squeeze of a large lemon half in his huge hand, he dribbled the juice all around. He tossed the greens again with a flourish, scooped them into the four cold bowls, and they all dived in to enjoy its tangy freshness after the rich, cheesy lasagna.

“Fantastic meal. Marc, you can twist my arm any time,” Chuck said wiping his mouth with a napkin.

Giulia watched the napkin slide across his full lips like a soft kiss and felt her insides clench. She couldn’t pull her eyes away. When he turned toward her, she grabbed her glass. After a swallow, she also thanked their hosts. “I haven’t enjoyed a meal this much since I’ve been in Italy—too much going on I guess.”

“That brings to mind that creep Oliver Ogle,” Marlowe said. “I’ve decided to take the initiative and be the bait. How shall we set him up?”

A furrow creased Marc’s forehead and his mouth flattened into a hard line. “Is that the only way to get the cowardly wimp to leave?”

“Wimps can be dangerous,” Chuck said. “Marlowe, I don’t like the idea of using you—or any other woman—as bait. We don’t know what he’s capable of.” He took a sip of wine and looked at Giulia, silently willing her to tell her story.

“Marc, you may not know yet what happened in Oliver’s office,” Giulia said and related the story with Chuck nodding his head. “I should have restrained myself.”

“Whoa,” Marc said. “Sounds to me like self defense. If more women would react that way, he might slink off into the sunset.”

“How did he ever wangle his status as Director of Personnel?” Marlowe said. “He’s such a faker. When I first visited him and complained that he had closed the door, he said, ‘My dear, your personnel records are like
Arcana Imperii,
’ then translated the legal-latin term for me as ‘state secrets’ making sure I knew
he knew
what it meant.” Marlowe sighed, “It
would
be lovely if he’d drop off the face of the earth.”

“No such luck,” Giulia said. “Whoever is the ‘bait’ needs to be very sure of good backup.”

They all agreed.

“In spite of your valid objection to an escort system,” Chuck said turning to Marlowe. “I still believe a constant intimidation might work with him. We could handpick a few good men to take this on, and I think—”

“And just how would you vet this ‘elite’ corps of men?” Giulia interrupted. Her eyes hardened, and Chuck felt his cock react. Unrelenting, she continued, “Do you have access to their background information?”

There’s fire in that curvy body,
he thought, but calmly replied, “Info from their military records, of course, but my unit isn’t the FBI. We aren’t trained to do profiling. Yet, when men and women work together in combat, they learn fast who can be trusted. I don’t doubt we could form a dependable group.”

“How about we move to the living room for coffee,” Marlowe suggested.

They all carried their remaining dishes to the kitchen counter and settled around the fireplace where Marc was already coaxing the fire back into flames.

“As an outsider,” he said over his shoulder, “the only way I see a group of protectors could work is if all the women buy in.”

They batted that idea back and forth while sipping coffee. No one accepted offers of sweets. Giulia noticed it was eight forty-five already.

“Sorry, but I should go. After the 10.05 train, I don’t think there’s another to Vicenza until midnight.”

“That’s right,” Chuck said. “I’ll walk with you. But while I’ve got all of you together, I want to invite you to dinner at Corte Sconta. We can finalize our plans there. Next Friday evening, everyone?”

Marc and Marlowe looked at each other, nodded and she said, “My mouth’s already watering for their zabaglione.”

Chuck turned to Giulia, “Can you join us? Have you eaten at Sconta?”

“I know of it but haven’t been there. Zabaglione? Maybe I’ll try it too.”

“It’s heavenly, and they’re not stingy with the Marsala,” Marlowe said.

“We might have to order ahead to make sure they have enough for this little glutton.” And Marc picked up Marlowe’s hand and kissed her palm.

“Good, it’s a date. I’ll make reservations. By then, I hope to get recommendations for an ‘elite’ group, as you called it, Giulia.” Still looking at her, he added, “Maybe you two could poll the other women on the idea.”

“Yeah. That gives us almost a week to check them out,” Marlowe said.

“Good. With more facts,” Chuck said, “we can put a plan into action.”

* * *

At the station, Chuck walked with Giulia to the designated track for the train to Vicenza. The Venice station wasn’t large, considering the city’s popularity, and the dull 1950s-style architecture offered none of the elegance of other
stazioni
in Italy. To Giulia, the lobby always seemed cluttered with large glass cases stuffed with glittery doo-dads for last minute buys. But why not? Venetians had been merchants for more than a thousand years. The bar, however—separated from the lobby by glass doors—was well appointed and efficient. When traveling alone, Giulia had often been able to buy a delicious coffee or sandwich at the last minute and still make her train.

This morning she’d bought a train pass because she expected to be coming back and forth a lot—her classes were only three days a week. It would save money and time. Chuck already had his because he commuted daily. Giulia pulled her sweater closer on the way to the proper track. When the train pulled in, he boarded with her.

“You live in Venice, don’t you?” she asked. “You don’t need to go with me all the way to Vicenza and back.”

“I won’t. I keep a studio apartment for times when I have to stay over.”

“Really, Chuck, you needn’t do this. I’ll be fine. My pensione is on the bus line a short distance from the station.

“That may be. But tonight, you are
not
going home alone, especially since someone followed you recently.” His voice, though firm, had taken on a velvety, intimate undertone that brought her gaze up to his face. She felt a familiar tremor in her belly. Maybe she’d seen better-looking men, but never one that oozed more masculinity.

They found an empty compartment large enough for six passengers on bench seats three on one side, three on another. Chuck wanted them to be alone and pulled a scarf out of his coat pocket for covering one seat, put the coat on another and looked around. Giulia caught on and found a notebook from her knapsack for a third seat and her scarf for the last extra one. They looked at each other and laughed.

“An old trick, but it usually works,” he said.

Chuck raised an armrest between two seats near the window, and they sat side by side. He had noticed her shiver and took the window seat thinking it could be drafty.

“Okay. Tell me about what happened when someone tailed you.”

She did, but her story seemed contrived to sound like a frivolous event.

“I don’t think the creep who followed me knew what I’d given the old gentleman at the hotel.”

“Hotel? Which hotel?”

“Hotel De La Ville,” she said. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“It’s an elegant place, but I’ve heard rumors about shady business there.”

Giulia stared at him, but in truth, she’d begun to suspect the same.

“Why did you deliver gems to a hotel rather than a place of business?”

She sighed. “It’s complicated.”

The conductor opened the door and they showed their passes. He observed the belongings on the other seats but said nothing. When he left, Chuck repeated her last words, “It’s complicated and…?”

“I love my nonno, but I’ve thought for some time he might not always be on the right side of the law. Maybe he’s just dealing under the table to avoid taxes—an Italian pastime as you know.” Again she sighed. “I hadn’t wanted to do the delivery, but Nonno Tony’s a charmer, and I agreed for this one time only. He mentioned avoiding shipping costs, forms, and the like.”

“Your nonno’s probably not involved in syndicated crime, but the mafia
has
been operating all across the Veneto for years. Not only are there home-grown gangs but even the dreaded
’Ndrangheta
from Calabria. First they were in Milan and then spread over this way into Verona, Vicenza and maybe Padova. So far they’re not in Venice.
So far,
” he added.

“I’d heard a little about that, but the ’Ndrangheta?” She shuddered. “This far north?”

According to the
Carabinieri,
they’re definitely entrenched.” He turned toward her. “Sometimes the federal police in Italy get a bad rap—kind of like the FBI in the States—but they do a great job with statistics. Would you do me a favor and not go to that hotel anymore, even its beautiful bar?”

“I appreciate your concern, Chuck, but surely the hotel is safe.”

Turning her to face him and taking both of her hands, he looked into her eyes. The rims around his pale irises darkened. She thought of a photo of a magnificent Siberian wolf a friend had hanging on his office wall. Chuck said, “Please, Giulia.” She reacted with a little intake of breath. His scent held a hint of an elusive fragrance. Whatever it might be, its basic essence was warm man.

He didn’t press her further. He trusted she got his message. She liked that. The train began moving, and it was clear she wouldn’t be returning to Vicenza alone. She felt a flutter low in her belly realizing she didn’t mind having someone worry about her. The compartment’s overhead lights dimmed as well as those in the corridor running along one side. A reading light over each seat was available, but they sat quietly both in their own thoughts.