In Sickness and in Wealth (5 page)

"I'm into men who play them." The flirt came out accidentally.

Diana shot me a sharp look.

Next to me, Jus set his jaw.

"And especially into guys who coach them." I grabbed Justin's arm and gave him an adoring look.

His face lit up. A busboy cleared the antipasti and plates. Two of Paolo's staff came out of the kitchen, carrying trays of steaming soup.

Kirk rubbed his hands together. "And here it is! The main event. You're in for a treat, Kayla. No one makes
zuppa di pesce
like Paolo! It's his specialty. People come from all over Naples for it."

As a bowl was set in front of me, my stomach grumbled. A gag rose in my throat.
Crap.
I swallowed hard against the bile rising in my esophagus. Morning sickness
would
choose now, a most inconvenient time, to make its first appearance.

I got my first glimpse of my bowl of soup—clams steamed open in their shells, tiny whole fish with their eyes staring accusingly back at me, whole shrimp, still in their shells, complete with legs, long antennae, and beady eyes, and whole baby octopi swimming in a tomato base. It was like a trip to the zombie aquarium in my bowl.

My stomach roiled. Didn't the Italians know you're supposed to clean the fish before you cook it? And devein the shrimp and take them out of their shells? And who eats baby octopus?

I didn't want to be close to the earthy nature of my food. I wanted my food the American way—clean and sanitized to the point where you'd never imagine your meat actually came from a real animal.

Just then Kirk took a spoonful of baby octopus and ate it whole, chewing rigorously.

I tried not to wince as I imagined what was going on in his mouth.

"
Polpetto
!" He made a sound of gastric happiness. "Try it, Kayla. It's deliciously fresh. You've never had anything like it."

Yeah, and I really didn't want to start now. I realized my earlier mistake of thinking Paolo was serving us
polenta
. Whole different thing. Cornmeal, not octopus. Cornmeal I could handle. I took one look at the baby octopus in my soup—poor dead baby animal. Was its mother mourning it?—covered my mouth, and ran for the restroom to hurl.

After some minutes of clutching the porcelain throne, the nausea disappeared as quickly as it had come. I felt pale and shaken, but much better. As I cleaned myself up I wondered,
How am I going to explain
this
?

Jus startled me as I came out of the bathroom. "You okay?"

I jumped and clutched my heart. "Jus. You scared me. Do you always lurk in doorways by the ladies' room?"

"Sorry." He looked contrite and embarrassed. "I was worried about you."

"I'm fine. It's sweet of you to be concerned." I stroked his cheek and smiled. It was a good thing I was becoming such a fine actor. "Sudden nauseous migraine," I lied. "It came on just like this." I snapped my fingers. "By the time I realized I was getting an aura and my eye hurt, it was too late."

"I didn't know you got migraines."

Neither did I. My freshman roommate at the sorority used to get them. I was borrowing her history, and symptoms, so to speak. "I don't get them like this often. Maybe a couple of times a year? It happens when I'm off schedule."

Maybe I should have given them a little more frequency. An excuse in the hand…

His brow creased. He really was adorably sweet. "Should I take you back to the
pensione
?"

"No. Once I've…" I cleared my throat, indicating delicacy. "The worst is over." I took his hand, which was warm and comforting as it squeezed mine. "How offended is Paolo? Will you explain?"

Jus nodded. "My brothers are having a field day with your squeamishness. I'll put them in their places, too." He sounded like he relished the thought.

"Go gentle on them. Forgive them for what they don't know."

Paolo took it all with good humor and offered me ice for my head, insisting it would help. "It's the bad air in the heat."

Jus translated it for me and whispered, "Italians always complain about the bad air."

After dinner, Diana asked me to take a picture of her and Kirk and the boys. As they jostled into their usual family picture formation, Jus was suddenly nearly as tall as his brothers.

From either side of him, Jerod and Jeremy grabbed a shoulder to push him down. "Off your toes, squirt."

"Justin Arnold Green! Behave yourself. At least you finally reached six feet. Your regular height will suffice. Get off your toes," Diana barked. I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of her reprimands. "And if anyone starts the lean, I will personally kill them."

Justin's grin was wide and contagious as he and his two brothers started leaning to the right.

Diana swatted at them. I stifled a laugh at their family antics. Being an only child, I didn't have any siblings to joke around with. I'd always wanted big brothers. I was falling in love with Justin's family already.
Boys!
I snapped the picture.

J
ustin

Something was wrong with Kay. Sure, she protested she was fine. But the sudden virulent headache was worrying. Paolo might have been right about the bad air. After sleeping all afternoon, she went straight to bed when we got home from Paolo's.

She blamed it on the headache. "It makes me tired, both before and after. I should have recognized it coming on from how tired I was before."

I sat in the chair in the room of our
pensione
, with my laptop open. I'd looked up her symptoms. Fatigue and nausea were common symptoms. I would just have to take her at her word that this would pass.

As I checked my email, I got a text that made my pulse race.

You've been ignoring me, hubby. Not interested in playing my game? You should be, baby. I have more pictures you should be interested in. Don't make me use them. I'll be in touch soon.

I smiled, slowly, and willed my heart to stop racing. Maybe I should have been scared. But I'd been waiting for her.

Bring it on,
baby
.
Send me a sample of what you have so I can find you.

I texted Dex.

K
ayla

Scrum, scrum, scrum, scrum
.

After a day of watching rugby, the words pulsed through my head in a chant. What better way to pass the time than watching hot guys in shorts tackle each other? Guys flashing very fine butts at the crowd. Male physicality! I needed to fan myself, and it wasn't just due to the heat of the day. Pregnancy hormones should really have made men look worse rather than better to me.

I'd also seen a new side to Jus. Kirk hadn't exaggerated. Jus really did know the game better than anyone. With his powers of observation and strategic thinking, he was an excellent coach.

Jus looked adorable, and hot, as he ran up and down the sidelines yelling at his players, calling plays, sketching them out. He knew his Dad's playbook by heart. He was so intense! And he claimed he didn't like sports all that much.

I played water girl and general helper. And good luck charm. When the guys won their first game under Justin's tutelage, they let me douse them with the water bottles. After they won their second game of the afternoon, they invited me out drinking with them.

"Sorry, boys. I have a date with the coach."

"Tomorrow!" the guys agreed. "We're going to get you out on the field, Kayla!"

One of them winked at me. "Can hardly wait to tackle you, baby."

It was a good thing Jus didn't hear that. At the end of the day, Jus took me by the hand and led me off the field. "I should have known Mom and Dad would put us to work." He was sweaty and scowling.

I laughed at him. "It was fun. Your family has a great business."

"Yeah?" He broke into a grin. "Well I'll be damned if I hang around and get recruited to babysit the players tonight. I'm taking my wife out for dinner."

I made a face. "Not for fish again, I hope? I kind of like my fish cleaned before they're cooked. And shrimp shelled and deveined."

He laughed. "How does pizza sound? Napoli is famous for their own brand of thin-crust pizza. I know the best place. Across the bay in Sorrento. Want to escape with me?"

"If you're going to feed me pizza, I'm in!"

J
ustin

Kayla laughed as I pulled her by the hand through the dark, narrow alleyways of Sorrento. The pizzeria I was taking her to sat at the end of a narrow street that ended at the bay. It had a back terrace that looked across the water toward the sparkling lights of Naples. And hand-tossed, oven-fired pizza that melted in the mouth.

"I hope you know where you're going!" she said. "This area looks sketchy."

"No, it's fine. Just old. If we follow the light to the end of the alley we can't go wrong."

Inside the pizzeria, the atmosphere was pure old country. A nearly wall-sized painting of a jester during
carnivale
, dressed in full ruffles and mask as he put a pizza in the oven, hung on the wall opposite us. The air was filled with the scent of baking bread. I asked to be seated on the open-air brick terrace.

My timing was perfect. The sun was in the process of setting and the moon was rising silver over Vesuvius. We were given a view table. Strings of white lights crisscrossed and sparkled over our heads and the patio. We sat side by side on the same side of the table so we could both enjoy the view. On a bench seat with our backs to a brick wall that was slowly giving up its heat. A large, open window of the pizzeria released delicious aromas to the terrace. A bottle filled with a red rose sat in the middle of the table, along with an unlit candle. A local band played Italian folk music and love songs on the far side of the terrace from us.

I was high on the success of my team that afternoon. We were advancing to the semifinals. I was also high on the adrenaline of the hunt. Damn that ID thief for threatening me. I was tense with both excitement and fear. If I kept ignoring her, would she make good on her threat? Did she have something I wanted? Or was she bluffing?

I wanted her picture so I could flush her out. I needed more data points on her facial structure to hunt her down and shut her off. She was going to make a mistake soon. I could feel it the way I could feel it when my business competition, or a needy supplier, was about to make a desperate move.

I was also high on Kay. As she sat next to me, her new Italian perfume teased my nose. I could feel her body heat next to me. Her breast skimmed my arm, driving me mad with lust.

She was gorgeous, perfect as she studied the menu before her and laughed. "It's useless! Pointless. Like I can read Italian! I have no idea what this menu says. Except for the word pizza. Order me a cheese pizza, will you?" Her eyes danced.

"Cheese, huh?" I teased. "Adventurous as a five-year-old?"

She shoulder-bumped me. "I hear it's a specialty here. Nothing like a kid's pizza at home."

"I'm hungry. We'll need more than one pizza. What else do you want?"

"Anything served without eyes, legs, or shells," she said deadpan. "And no caviar, either. Fish eggs." She shuddered.

"You're no fun." I bumped her back. "But because you were such a good sport today, your wish is my command." I ordered two pizzas and a bottle of red wine.

"Keep the staff happy, is that it?" she said.

"Always."

Couples sat all around us. As if she was taking their cue, she looped her arm through mine and rested her head on my shoulder, gazing at the sunset, and the view.

I'd pulled out the big guns and picked this particular pizzeria for its romantic atmosphere and view as much as for the pizza. My brothers had always taken their girls here. If it was good enough for the Casanovas of my family, why not for me?

My love for Kay danced on the tip of my tongue, silenced by fear of rejection. I whispered to her, "I like what you're doing, but you don't have to act here. No one knows me or us."

She smiled lazily. "I'm doing this for my own pleasure, Jus. I like being out with you."

My heart lurched.

"I'm growing used to this act." She squeezed my arm.

I grinned, trying not to show how happy she made me as a waiter lit the candle on our table.

"Italy has been wonderful so far," she said. "You spoiled me rotten in Milan."

"Not so rotten, I hope," I said. "I had to bribe you before I subjected you to days with my family."

"I don't know why you were worried about it. I love your family!"

I stared at her. "You do?"

"Cross my heart." She laughed. "They're loud and sporty—"

"And you fit in with them better than I do. The stork left me on the wrong doorstep."

"No!" She shook her head. "You don't give yourself enough credit. You were awesome today. I think it made me hot watching you coach your guys. Bossing those big, strong jocks around like that." She pretended to swoon. "Directing the game. Calling the shots. You were brilliant! They couldn't have won without you."

Did she know how hard she was tugging my heart?

I shrugged, trying to appear humble. "Dad could have done just as well. He's coached his team well."

"You're too modest." She sighed. "I like you as warrior leader."

The waiter arrived with our wine and poured us each a glass. I raised mine to Kay's. "To always winning. Chin-chin!"

"Chin-chin!" She looked radiant and happy.

An older Italian couple sat next to us, smiling at the sight of us, their table so close it was almost an extension of ours. The woman turned to me, pointed to our rings, commented on how new and shiny they were, and asked in Italian, "Newlyweds?"

I answered her and was soon carrying on a conversation with her and her husband.

"Yes, we're American."

"Where from? Seattle. Yes, very far away from New York. The opposite side of the country."

"On our honeymoon? Of sorts. She's meeting my family," I explained. "No, my wife doesn't speak Italian."

"Look at the way your wife looks at you!" the woman said. "She adores you! She's very much in love with you. Don't take it for granted. You should tell her you love her often. Women like to hear it. Don't they, my husband?" She smiled at the older man.

My heart beat double time. Had the woman seen something I was blind to? Did Kay love me? Or had she perfected her act?

"Yes, my love." The man reached across the table and took his wife's hand in his. "I tell her always. You tell your wife always and you'll have a long and happy marriage. Like us!" He raised his wine glass to us. "
Salute!
"

To our health.

I raised my glass. "
Salute!
"

Kay watched us, an amused, confused look on her face.

Our pizzas arrived. Both tables drifted back into private conversation.

"You're so hot when you're speaking Italian," Kay purred in my ear. "What did they say?"

"Nothing much. Just small talk."

"Jus!" She glanced at the woman. "She's motioning to you. What does she want?"

"The Italians talk too damn much with their hands." I grinned. "She wanted me to tell you something." I wanted to tell her the same thing. Had since college.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Tell me." Her eyes sparkled in the fading light.

I shook my head. "She's mistaken. You don't want to hear it." Not from me. I took a slice of pizza.

Kay slapped my arm. "You can't tease me like that and not
tell
me."

I shrugged.

"Jus! Tell me already."

I set my pizza down, looked earnestly into her eyes, and told her what was in my heart. In Italian, of course. "
Sei il mio tesoro d'oro. Ti voglio bene. Ti amo con tutto il cuore."

The Italians are flowery. They would never stoop to just saying a plain
I love you
. Bah! They must embellish. If not, what's the use of being known for their passionate natures?

I learned this from the many Italian rugby players I'd met over the years. You must woo the girl with your words. I'd taken a lesson from them and repeated the Italian way to tell a woman you love her.
You're my golden treasure. I love you. I love you with all my heart.

And then I kissed her, thoroughly.

The woman I'd been talking to smiled at me. And gave me the Italian equivalent of a thumbs-up, the sweeping arm gesture with her pointer finger making a circle with her thumb, her other fingers extended, meaning
perfect
!

I nodded back.

Kay stared at me, her eyes wide. Her lips moist and plump from my kiss. "In Italian? Really, Jus?"

"You said it was sexy." I picked my pizza up again and took a bite.

"What did you say?"

"Exactly what I meant," I said.

The band that had been quietly playing in the background, interrupted. "
Scusi
. We are now taking requests."

"
Luna Mezza Mare
!" An obviously American man a few tables away called out and pointed to the sky where a full moon was rising.

"Moon over the sea!" The lead singer clicked his tongue in approval. "Very good suggestion from the Americano! A favorite of ours. Who can resist a good
Napolitano
tune about the sea? And the moon. And the love?" He shrugged comically. "Or the lust." He nodded to his band. "One, two, three."

He broke into the first verse of the upbeat song full of innuendo about woman's lovers coming and going.

Kay clapped. "I know this one! You texted me the YouTube link. It's from
The Godfather
."

"It was in
The Godfather
. But it was popular long before that. It was supposedly written by a
Napolitano
sailor."

The singer left his perch at the end of the terrace and started working the crowd, encouraging the audience to clap along as he sang his way from table to table. The crowd ate it up.

When he stopped at our table, Kay laughed and covered her face with her hand, fingers spread, as the young Italian singer crooned to her. He pulled her hand from her face and held it over his heart while she laughed. She was blushing when he finally released it and stood, clapping his hand against the other one that held the mic.

"
Tutti!
" he yelled, still clapping.
All.
He encouraged the audience to sing along.

Kay nudged me. "Jus, sing! You have to!"

I shrugged. Damn, I wasn't letting that Italian steal my thunder or my girl. I started belting out the lyrics in Italian, keeping up the singer.

He shot me an exaggerated look of surprise and handed the mic to me. I took it and serenaded Kay, breaking into English for just one line that told her there was only one guy she should marry. And that was me. I pointed to myself.

She laughed and clapped as the singer and I broke into a round of la, la, la, la, las. He grabbed me and motioned to follow him to the next table and then join him on stage.

I should have sat back down. But I was having too much fun. My brothers hogged the spotlight at the tourney. Here I was able to be myself and shine. Kay blew me a kiss like a groupie. The older Italian woman at the table next to us leaned over and whispered something to her. Kay nodded, listening intently as she clapped to the song.