Gaining Visibility (12 page)

Dishes rattling in the kitchen caused her to check her watch. 8:33. She hadn't expected Vitale to be back so soon from his errand. He must be a very early riser.

She smiled to herself. Two days ago, she'd awakened to the sound of Vitale's hammer knocking on stones. Yesterday, she'd awakened to him knocking on the door. Today, he was knocking around the kitchen. There were worse things than being awakened by a gorgeous Italian man. She found herself looking forward to tomorrow.

She limped to the bathroom for teeth and hair brushing, determined to fix him a Southern-style breakfast if he hadn't eaten yet. He'd been so sweet about seeing to her needs. It was time to show him she wasn't helpless. She'd spotted pancetta in the fridge last night along with some eggs. She could whip up some of her special biscuits. And there really wasn't much difference between grits and polenta.

The boxers she slept in were fine for lounging. She grabbed yesterday's blouse and slipped it over her camisole as footsteps moved down the hall toward the room.

Her hand was on the doorknob ready to swing it open when a sneeze outside the door brought her to a standstill.

That most definitely was
not
Vitale outside her door.

The sneeze came from a woman.

C
HAPTER
10

A
ngelina? One of Vitale's sisters? Francesca?

Julia paused, wondering if this called for some kind of entrance strategy?

She had nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing to hide from any of them. She could be her normal, invisible self.

She opened the door to find a tiny wisp of an elderly woman armed with a dust mop in one hand and an aerosol can in the other. Julia smiled with relief.

Other than a quick tightening of her bottom lip, the woman's expression didn't register any surprise to see a woman coming out of Vitale's bedroom. “
Buon giorno
”—she paused, letting her eyes scan Julia from top to bottom and back before adding—“signora.”

Julia thought she heard a tiny note of judgment in the word, but she couldn't be sure. She gave a mental shrug.
I guess I should be flattered she . . . or anyone else . . . even sees my sleeping with Vitale as a possibility.
“
Buon giorno,
” Julia answered. “Vitale?”

The woman brandished the can a few times, punctuating a string of words, none of which Julia understood.

Julia nodded politely and limped into the kitchen. Her crutch was nowhere in sight. No matter. Getting around was easier without it anyway if she kept her weight on the back of her heel or the side of her foot.

The kitchen sparkled, no sign anywhere Vitale had eaten breakfast yet.

Thinking he might be in his studio, she moseyed out onto the patio. A vase of vibrant sunflowers sat on the table with a note placed beside them.
Julietta, I return soon with the breakfast.

It took only a second for it to register with her—how different this man was from Frank, who moved through life with an air of cool detachment, only touching people when it served
his
purpose or met
his
need. Flowers had never been part of her ex's modus operandi. He claimed they were a waste of money because they wilted too quickly. Hugs were limited to good-byes. Or foreplay.

So now, her insides went all soft at Vitale's thoughtfulness. She'd always figured guys who looked like Vitale did generally had no thought for anyone but themselves. But he wasn't like that. Not with her. Not with his family. She'd seen the way he hugged his sisters and parents, cuddled his nieces and nephews. He wasn't the average “pretty boy.”

Remembering his kisses reminded her that nothing about him was average.

She ran her fingers over the bold, fluid script before tucking the paper in her pocket.

Having coffee waiting when he got back was the least she could do, so she returned to the kitchen.

The pungent aroma of freshly ground coffee permeated the kitchen, however, and made Julia's mouth water. She inhaled deeply and gave an appreciative sigh. The cleaning lady had beaten her to the task.

The woman gave her a sidelong glance as she added the last scoop to the French press pot. “
Caffe latte,
eh?”

“
Sì
.” Julia gave an enthusiastic nod, which finally brought a smile from the woman.

“
Presto
.”

Julia chuckled. Knowing the word meant “soon” didn't keep her from imagining a cup of coffee appearing out of nowhere. She decided to try a bit of conversation to ease the awkward silence. “
Sono Julia, um, Julietta Berkwith
.
Sono americana
.”

The woman pointed to herself. “
Loredana.
”

“
Loredana,
” Julia repeated, letting the “r” roll from her tongue. “
Che bello.
” She wasn't sure, but she hoped she had told the woman the name was beautiful.

“
Grazie
.” Loredana beamed as she poured the boiling water from the kettle over the coffee grounds.

The scented steam wafted Julia's way, and her stomach rumbled in appreciation. “
Ho fame
.” She patted her middle.

Loredana's eyebrows shot up. “
Ah,
signora.
Mi dispiace. Un momento.
” She hurried to the refrigerator and started filling her arms with fruit, eggs, cheeses, milk.

“No, no!” Julia protested. “Um, Vitale, uh, bring . . .
colazione
.”

“
Ah, capisco
.” Loredana nodded and put the items back in the refrigerator.

There was another round of awkward silence while Julia willed the coffee grounds to give up their essence a little faster. “
Ho una frattura.
” She tried again, pointing to her toe.

“
Sì. Lo so.
” Loredana walked a few steps in a circle, mimicking Julia's limp perfectly.

A comedian!
Julia laughed and applauded the performance.
I'm in the company of an Italian Hettie.
Though Loredana was probably ten years younger, she had a knowing smile and a twinkle in her eye very much like Hettie that made Julia think she, too, viewed the world with a playful perspective.

Julia remembered she didn't speak with Hettie yesterday. She'd have to allot some extra time today to fill her in on the new developments. Hettie would love, love, love that she was staying with Vitale. And she wouldn't let it go until Julia admitted she was loving it, too.

Loredana repeated her pantomime and laughed with Julia, a bright, tinkly sound that made Julia think of fairies, or maybe brownies since she was cleaning house. The tinkly sound grew louder, becoming a cackle that would have been scary in different circumstances.

All at once, a hand snaked around Julia's waist from behind, startling her as a kiss landed on her cheek.

“
Buon giorno,
Julietta.” Vitale's voice was a sexy growl, and Julia's breath hitched at the sound of it. He placed a paper bag on the table in front of her. “You meet Loredana.” He strode over to the older woman and kissed each of her cheeks. “
Buon giorno.
”

Loredana's tender smile gave away her fondness for the man. She gave his shoulder a pat, then busied herself with plunging and pouring the coffee while he got plates and silverware.

Julia wasn't sure she needed to eat—she could fill up on the sight of Vitale. Army green cargo shorts sat low on his hips and a camouflage tee clung to every ridge, ironically hiding nothing. The man didn't have an ounce of fat on him. Every inch was sinew and muscle from his head to his sandaled feet.

As he started back toward the table, she tore her eyes away from him and opened the bag. If she drooled, she could blame it on the buttery croissants and rolls. And maybe her accelerated heartbeat could be chalked up to the extra bold scent of the coffee.

“I forget to tell you Loredana here this morning.” He set a cup of coffee and a plate in front of her and leaned down to brush his lips across hers.

The tiniest of kisses, but her stomach responded with a gargantuan flutter. She fought to keep from stammering over the simplest of sentences. “No problem.” She took a settling breath as he moved into the opposite seat. “She's a sweetheart. In fact, she reminds me of my mother-in-law, Hettie.”

“Mother-in-law?” His face clouded.

“Ex-mother-in-law. My ex-husband's mother,” she explained, pleased to have the conversation on familiar territory, which would keep her thoughts away from the feel of his lips and what they did to her. “She's like a mother to me. When Frank and I divorced, I got to keep Hettie.”

That brought a smile, and he bit into his croissant with fervor.

A flake clung to his lower lip, reminding her of how he'd brushed the crumb from hers yesterday. And those kisses . . . the thought of them made her brain stall. She took a drink of coffee and let the strong brew lubricate her mouth back into action.

She rattled on about Hettie through most of their breakfast. “I visit or call her every day. I didn't yesterday, so I'll need to today. She'll be worried.”

“I do not have the phone.” Vitale's tone was apologetic. “But I think we go to Lerici. You call from there.”

“I have my cell phone.” Julia licked the last bit of tangy marmalade from her lips, and a jolt shot through her when his gaze dropped to her mouth and lingered. “But how is it you don't have a phone?” she finished, determined not to let him read her single-minded thoughts this morning.

“I do not like the stop and the answer when I work.” His eyes moved back to hers, and he shrugged.

No phone. She'd pinpointed one of his idiosyncrasies. “Couldn't you simply turn the phone off while you're working? How do people get in touch with you?”

“I have the computer and the Internet. Much better. I work the early morning to the late night. The e-mail I read when I come from the studio.”

“Which you promised to show me this morning,” Julia reminded him.

“Yes, we do now, I think. How is the toe?”

She stood and began cleaning off the table. “Better. See?” She demonstrated how she could keep the weight off her toes. “In fact, I was going to fix your breakfast this morning, but you were already gone.”

“Feex?”

“Prepare. Make ready.” She listed synonyms as she placed the dishes in the sink.

She hadn't heard him get up from his chair, but his hands settled on her hips, causing her breath to intake sharply. “
Domani,
you feex,” he said.

Man, he was laying it on thick this morning. “Okay, tomorrow.” She tried to sound light, wanted him to see how his well-honed powers of seduction weren't going to work on her. But the way he was pressed against her . . . did he feel that involuntary quake that just shook her?

In answer, he nibbled her ear playfully, causing her knees to buckle. She gripped the edge of the sink, determined not to be silly enough to turn around.

His hands slid around to cover hers. “You hold this, so you no hold Vitale, I think. You let go soon,
bella mia
.” He kissed the top of her head before he walked away, leaving her hanging by her elbows.

But hang on she did . . . and would continue to do—trying not to imagine how soft the landing would be if she fell into his bed.

* * *

Vitale was waiting outside the studio.

Through the patio door, Julia watched him tack something to the studio wall outside, and as she got closer, she could see they were sketches. Her feet came to an abrupt stop when she recognized the subject.

They were of her!

“When did you do these?” Her astonishment bubbled out on a note of disbelief, bringing a pleased smile to Vitale's face.

He pointed to the first one. “This one I begin at the restaurant the night you arrive.”

She punched his chest playfully with her finger. “I had a feeling you were sketching me, but I thought I was crazy. Why were you sketching me?”

“You have the beautiful eyes. They interest me.”

She felt the blush creep up her neck, so she turned back to the sketches. “And this one?” She leaned to peer closer at the one he had added some color to the eyes and lips and hair. “When did you do it?”

“While you relax by the pool. Sometime you take off the hat and the sunglasses, but not often.” He nudged her with an elbow. “Behind the sunglasses, you watch me. I watch you also.”

The heat deepened, spreading to her back and the nape of her neck. “You knew I was watching you?'

“
Sì.
The other woman, Bettina, she think I watch her.”

“I saw you and her at the bar that night.” She made it sound like she glimpsed him, staying just shy of admitting she was watching them.

“I see you also. I think to speak to you, but you leave.”

Yeah, sure he did. He had a line ready for everything, and she couldn't resist calling him on this one. She tilted her head back to look him in the eye. “Really? Why did you want to talk to me?”

His return gaze remained steady. “To see the eyes to finish sketch.”

“Oh.” He made it sound so logical, so honest. So well practiced. She rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, Vitale. Be honest. You know as well as I do you wouldn't have left a date like Bettina to talk to
me
.”

“I do not tell the lie, Julietta.” A flash of irritation darkened his eyes. “I want to see the color of Julietta's eye.” He made a little circle with his fingertip right in front of her eye. “The iris, yes? And I do not have the date with Bettina. She want the sex, so she leave with Romano.”

The refreshing honesty made her grin, but she changed the subject to something else she'd been curious about. She pointed to the first sketch. “That first night at the restaurant, who was the elderly man you sat with?”

His petulant mouth tightened with thought, then relaxed, telling her the exact moment when the memory came to him. “He is Aldo, a friend. His wife die also three month past. Aldo, he is very lonely. We have the drink together often.”

Guilt tapped Julia on the shoulder. “Oh, now I feel bad I turned down his company. I thought he was trying to pick me up.”

“Pick Julietta up?”

Okay, she understood how confusing that idiom might be. “Have sex.” Her bluntness caused her to cringe, but Vitale nodded.

“
Sì.
Aldo want the sex with you, Julietta.”

Instantly, her attitude shifted from sad for Aldo to appalled at him, and she blew out a disgusted, “Geez. Is that all you guys think about?”

The air shook with the deep vibrato of Vitale's laugh. “All the people want the sex, Julietta. The men and the women.”