AUTHOR'S NOTES:
IF YOU GUYS ARE STILL HERE, THANK YOU!
I finished this over a month ago (I know! I'm sorry! lol) but yeah, me and my family just recovered from COVID.
Also, I changed some things from the previous chapters, namely in Chapter 3 and 6. It was Osi who wanted to meet up with Laura when she first arrived in Sicily, not Massimo (mentioned in Chapter 3). And Osi had never met Laura (mentioned in Chapter 6).
Also, I haven't been to Sicily so any landscape description is straight from my imagination
HUSTLE and BUSTLE
confusion and business; busy and frenetic activity or excitement.
She ran inside the building without a destination. Soul drifting, mind blanked, and heart betrayed and truly broken. The tears that blurred her vision wracked unpleasant sobs from her. They were the sounds she hadn't heard before. She needed to calm down before she... before she...
The blinding pain stopped Laura in her tracks. She heaved a breath and clutched her chest, as if the touch will will her heart not to break even further.
She blindly grappled with the walls before her hand closed around a knob. And she pushed. She choked another sob as the familiar twinge shook her body. Laura felt the ribbons of black fabric weaved before her eyes. But she shook her head as if to stop the attack. She held a hand to her chest and repeated her breathing exercises. Her heart decelerated, but she was still chasing her breath. She tried to yank the window open, but it wouldn't budge.
"God damn it!" Her drowning lungs managed to choke out.
She tried and tried but her hands were shaking so much and her sight was blurry with her hurt and frustration. Feeling somewhat hopeless, Laura leaned her head on the window and tried to distract herself with... well, anything but her feelings— the root of all her cardiac misery.
But the door hinges gave a soft protest, breaching her solitary. The feelings of anger and ,more dominantly, shame encompassed her when she who entered.
"God! Can't I just be alone for a moment?!" She blurted out loud in Polish.
Massimo, unfazed, held her eyes for what seemed like forever. He moved in silence, his eyes still locked with hers. She watched as he walked to the center of the room, towards a covered piece of furniture. For a couple minutes of silence, she trained her eyes on him; she wanted him to leave her alone.
Laura had been readying herself for another fit of rage (a fit she was fully aware Massimo didn't deserve.) But then he lifted what looks like a fallboard, which let her see the mahogany body of a vintage baby grand piano.
Massimo's fingers were conscious on the keys as he started to play. For the first time since meeting him, she sensed a hint of insecurity on the otherwise indestructible pretense. His nervousness had shown, but not from his "rusty playing" as he had modestly bespoke. Rather, it was in the way he bounced his leg. And the slight tremble of his fingers. And the intense, unbridled concentration on his face. The closed body lid obscured the euphony of Einaudi's masterpiece but still, he delivered. The tunes were still other-worldly and eloquent. Whether he was aware of it or not, the abetted comfort and empathy was deeply appreciated. In those few minutes she attained the peace she was trying hard to chase earlier. And it was most welcomed. Laura was transfixed... And comforted by the last person she'd expected.
He told her about his mother, and she couldn't help the little jump her heart made at the light behind his eyes. There was a rare tenderness in them that was starting to throw her off guard, lulling her furor. From the reverent inflections he had while talking about her, the late Mrs. Torricelli must've been so loved. By her family, By Massimo, by everyone who had met her. It was hard to believe that someone as stoic and irritating as he was even capable of emotion. A genuine small smile grew on her face and she was grateful that he didn't see it.
She then told him about her grandma. Stories and other sorts of nonsense flew from her mouth, more than she was willing to share to anyone. She smiled at him and she was glad to see the corners of his mouth twitch— a smile not fullyexpressed. His eyes, the color of melted chocolate, gazed at her with such gentleness. And to be honest, despite the earlier confrontations, she felt like melting herself. She grimaced in her moment of weakness and superficiality. So, as soon as she found an excuse to not look at them anymore, she grabbed it.
The music has been her recluse; it was something she selfishly treated as hers. Her mind, body and soul were always tethered to each piece she was playing. Nothing else matters. Nothing does matter.
But as she sat beside him, she was met by two realizations:
One, she had never played for Martin nor her past relationships. Martin never liked music, so music became neglected in their home for the past years. She should've seen that as a red flag.
And two, the proximity didn't dwindle her perplexing emotions.
Laura felt that one-eighty shift in her again. Excitement began to dance in her chest again. And for as long as she could remember, it wasn't because she was playing. His eyes stayed on her fingers the whole time she was playing. Like he was studying them like notes on a music sheet. And she would know this because she was watching him from the corner of her eye. His face was a look of wonderment and innocence, kind of like a child watching the moon. An innocent look brightened his features every now and then. Her fingers and foot moved on their own accord. Her body moved closer to him, her arm brushed against side. With a note of surprise, she realized she was focused on him, not the piano nor the music. Not on the smoothness of ivory beneath her fingertips, not on the strings nor the pedals. But on him. She missed a couple of notes, hit a few wrong ones as well but Massimo was unwary. His face remained docile, genteel... beautiful.
She should be ashamed at her shallowness and her piqued attention towards this man.
She should.
She should be.
But Laura continued playing, graceful and almost proud, invigorated by his sole attention.
Laura had been fidgeting with the edge of the table cloth.
"Saved me the trip to Poland."
She wasn't sure she heard it right.
She was sitting on the massive balcony of the restaurant.
The double French doors were long sealed behind her for some weird reason, it felt like it was deriding her. The voices of Massimo and Osano Burr was vague on the other side of the room. Like it had been for the past ten minutes. Massimo's muscled men in black were with them. Once again, she was alone and clueless. Laura didn't like that feeling one bit.
When she realized with whom she was speaking to, she was gobsmacked . She's surprised that she even managed to greet him without stuttering. Even in Poland, she knew of Burr's reputation. He was the Elon Musk of the hotel industry, owning over a thousand hotels and resorts all over the world. And here was the most powerful person she'd probably will ever meet, and he's talking to her about his roses. With her hand tucked inside his elbow. Like they're old friends or he was a long-lost uncle. She heard nothing but kind words from her previous superiors about the man in front of her. Osano Burr, or Osi to Massimo, was a likable guy. An Italian man a tad inches shorter than Massimo. His posture screamed sophistication and class, but his smile was amiable and approachable. The man was also loquacious and spright, that she found herself nodding absently at his words.
Osano Burr was a board member of the Regent. She met him for a couple of months back, at the annual hotel conference, where she was one of the keynote speakers. She had been rewriting her speech at the empty bar of the Regent when he sat beside her one night. Laura had no idea who he was back then. She'd been so nervous about her speech that Osano let her practice it on him. The strange but kind man gave her some pointers and a few jokes to tell the austere crowd. Long story short, a few days after, the speech was a success. And Laura was grateful for the unsolicited mentorship ever since. (It was that speech that prompted her promotion in the Regent two weeks after.) It was only after Oskar's introductions that night that she knew who he was.
As everything else about this weekend, this was surreal. She wasn't a hundred percent sure it was in a good way though.
It felt like she was being played like balls on a pinball game. With fate and circumstances being the ruthless flippers. The various targets, ramps and bumps served as her emotions. Each hit was a sure score, striking an already adrenalized nerve. She could barely keep up.
She went from being mad at Martin and Bianka. To satisfied after kneeing Martin on the groin. Then to hurt when she relived it all over again. Then to calm and comforted, then to surprised and now, anxious and annoyed.
The door swung open with a violent force that made her jump in her seat. Upon entrance, Massimo's eyes met hers without hesitation. Even as he sat at the center chair. His face was in that unmistakable "I'm-carrying-the- whole- world- and- everyone's-an- idiot scowl again . It was far from the gullible expression he once showed her only moments ago.
Following him was Burr, who was looking like he was on top of the world. The older man sat across her, his eyes bright and excited.
She could feel Massimo's stress, not unparalleled to her own.
"I apologize for leaving you Miss Biel." Burr started. "A certain someone wanted to know the details first—" . He threw a reprimanding look in Massimo's direction, who was already frowning at him.
Osi cleared his throat and chuckled. "Never mind. Anyway. Isn't this a lovely coincidence?" The older man crowed.
"I was telling Massimo here how we met. It was a little over a year ago, remember Laura?"
She nodded distractedly .
"In Prague. At AHC. His colleague introduced us, I believe his name is Oskar? Oskar? Isn't that right, Laura?"
"Yes." She nodded.
"And how is everything back the prized Regent?"
"All good, all good." she said with gloomy pride in her voice.
"Tell me, is that snotty, annoying man still there?" Osi asked, disgust evident in his voice, it made her smile. But the indications of the Regent's open position erased it. It might mean Sawecki must have found a way to slither back in, then again he always does. Sawecki might be an ass, but he was good at his job. And knowing Marek, he would rehire the moron. And now, with their combined disdain for her, they must be wallowing in their victory.
She couldn't help but the bitterness of her tone. "I suppose." The man in front of her, of course noticed it. The incident with Marek made her shiver and for a moment, she was nervous that the men would insist on the topic. Laura didn't want to recall those moments to a bunch of strangers.
"What do you mean?"
"I quit. Before I flew here, actually."
She released the breath she was holding when Osano extolled, clapping his hands again.
"Fantastico ! Wonderful news!"
But beside him, Massimo was frowning at her.
"Why is that?" he insisted, his dark eyes boring into hers.
She shrugged, lying, "Nothing. I just quit."
"Isn't it wonderful, Massimo?"
The younger Italian man didn't answer and was still looking at her, with a look of clear incredulity. "What ha-"
Before Massimo could finish his inquisition, she cut in. They needed to get back to the topic before she do something stupid. Like cry again. "I'm sorry Osi, Mr. Burr. But what's happening? What do you mean by…" she couldn't bear to say, to think of the implication of what he had said. "What you said earlier?"
Osi became serious but there was still a hint of smile on his eyes, a sense of pride in them.
"I lack manners, signorina. I apologize again. I shouldn't have sprung it to you like that. But I… Me and Massimo here, we were having a discussion of finding my replacement. The board presented a handful of candidates. But none of them appealed to me. Or him… No surprise there." He chuckled at the last part and gave a sidelong look at Massimo.
"It was accidental, when I saw your name appear on the hotel data base. I had to call Brusitz immediately and arranged a dinner. My retirement has been a secret for a few weeks, only a handful of people knew. I don't wanna attract a lot of sharks. You know people in the business." Osi explained.
"Retire?" She asked in surprise. "But you're not that… you're not that… old."
Before she could explain, Osi threw his head back and laughed. She felt the blood rushing to her cheeks, chest, and neck, embarrassed.
"My dear Laura. Oh, what a delight!" Osi said when he calmed down. "But yeah. I wanted to retire early to focus on… another business."
"He's gonna run for governor." Massimo finally supplied in a dead and impatient tone.
Osano shook his head, smiling. Neither confirming nor disproving the statement. "Anyway, I'm looking for a new manager for my new hotel. It's not finished are still on final renovations as we speak."
Laura nodded, the only form of communication she seemed to be capable of at the moment.
Is he saying what she thinks he's saying?
"I'm looking for someone who has the same passion as I do. Has the same work ethic as I do. Has compassion and concern for the general welfare of employees as I do. I don't want my legacy tarnished when I leave. Gotta keep my appearances, you know. And what I'm saying, my dear Laura is…" Osano Burr paused for a dramatic effect and Laura felt her stomach flip.
The twinkle in Osi's eyes was complacent and much evident now. "You fit the fucking bill."
Her throat dried up, her hands were starting to get sweaty. Laura could feel the impact of his words ringing in her head.
She swallowed and darted a glance at Massimo, who was already looking at her. There was something about his intent look told her that he wasn't too pleased about all this. Laura couldn't help but feel dismayed at that.
But she shook her head, Why would she care, what he thinks?
She turned her attention to the older gentleman sitting in front of her. "I don't know what to say." She finally and truthfully said after a minute of silence.
"Say yes, then you can finally save me from this arduous ordeal. You can stay here, in Sicily . All accommodations paid and free. And I'll introduce you to many folks here in the business. You can get a six-month worth of bonus initially so you can start immediately. I can offer you a one-year contract or shorter. Whatever you want, Miss Biel. You set the terms."
The sun was still high but quite pleasant. The vegetation surrounding the lot sheltered them against the harshness of the city. The wind picked up a colder breeze that the edges of the dark table cloth flapped against it. The only thing holding it down was a vase of flowers at the center. A petal fell on the table and Massimo watched as Laura's fingers fidget with it. As she had been doing during their entire conversation. Massimo looked at her as she took a deep breath and silently weighed her options. Whereas he, could barely keep still; he was nervous and excited. The thought of Laura staying was sending him over the moon.
As much as Massimo hated the older man a while ago, he was thankful that someone was there to openly convey his real reaction . Osi sat across her, goggling at her, buttering her up.
He listened to their conversation, trying to hint where Laura's head was at. The more she asked her questions to Osi, his enthusiasm waned and waned. Laura appeared, slightly hinting that she didn't want the job.
It made him angry. Never mind his selfish reasons to make her stay. Osi was offering a great opportunity for her. And she had the gall to refuse?
How dare she?
And as his temper started to brew, he felt all the world's problems again. Most importantly , the event proceeding to where they were at.
Massimo recalled Nico's message, saying that Zalewski and Atnos went back to Baia Verde.
They won't get away that easy.
Massimo promised himself and let himself get lost on scheming for a minute. He looked up when Laura chuckled at something Osi said. Her countenance was light, but a little skittish.
There was something else here. Something Laura wasn't telling them. And for some bizarre reason, he felt it. She had told them earlier that she quit her job. Something he couldn't quite believe. From what he could see and from what he could hear, Laura loved her job. So, why would she quit?
And as his agitation rose to a height, it found its way again in a detached and disrespectful comment:
"If you guys are done with this 20-questions game, I'd like to leave. I have some important things to do."
Massimo stood up, his eyes were fighting the urge to look at her again. Osi shook his head and stood up. He extended a hand to Laura, who took it. Osi bent and gave it a lingering kiss.
"Say yes, my dear Laura. " He repeated and inclined his head in his direction again. "And also, so this man can stop snarling in my direction every chance he gets."
"Thank you Mr. Burr for the opportunity. But I'll think about it."
"Please do. Oh, and I have a small party the night after tomorrow. Will you come?"
Laura gave him a polite smile and Massimo's stomach gave another lurch. The night after tomorrow was her flight back to Poland. He couldn't help but feel despondent… and angry, like he wanted to punch something. Someone. Zalewski's face was looking more and more fetching.
Osi turned to him and grinned. "Massimo. I'll see you at the party." And at that Osi left, his bodyguards standing by the door followed suit.
"Domenico is already at Baia Verde." He said to Laura. "If you want, he can fetch your things for you, if you don't want to go."
"I want to get my things." She asserted in that strong and intimidating tone that made him proud. Though, it still wasn't enough to make him forget about beating the life out of Zalewski.
Almost.
The sudden sensation of stopping roused him slowly back to his senses.
"Don Massimo?" He heard Alek cleared his throat.
Massimo opened his eyes and was met by Laura's side profile. She was leaning her head against the window, her breathing even and easy.
"We're here, Don Massimo." Alek repeated, a little louder this time. Massimo finally met his driver's eyes through the rear view mirror.
He nodded back at him in acknowledgment before Alek made his way outside. Massimo turned to his right and saw the lobby hall of Baia Verde. Alek walked towards the lobby with one of his Nico's men, Indio. A few obnoxious tourists flock the entrance, their high spirits making him frown. The over-eager bellboy bounced down the stairs, already at their wake.
Massimo stretched his legs, as comfortably as he could in the strict confinements of the car. He looked over his right and saw Laura with her head leaning against the window. She was still sleeping, her soft snore was loud in the otherwise almost empty car. Massimo was certain that it was what lulled him to sleep earlier.
The traffic from Belaggio to Baia Verde almost took two hours. Naturally , it should've ruined his day. But for reasons he's still trying to fathom, despite the traffic jam and the commotion earlier, he's in an unbelievably good mood .
He leaned his cheek on his shoulder and shamelessly allowed himself to watch her. Hell knows if he'll have a chance to see her like this again. At the thought, he felt a pang of ache grow in his chest again.
She has been the most interesting, intriguing, infuriating figure he had met thus far. Regardless of his cold and apathetic nature, he wanted her to take the job.
Stay, Laura.
There was something about the few moments they shared. They were uncommon, new and discombobulating. And it was confusing the hell out of him. Surely , it was just attraction, an unnameable attraction. But the longer he thinks about it, the more confused he becomes. And instead of fleeing or avoiding it, it gripped him, bound him and tethered him to his seat. And for as long as he could remember, he found himself eager to know more, want... more.
He'd taken women out to dinner or drinks, bedded them a couple of times. Women seem to know what they wanted from him from the start. And he was fine by that. The only woman who didn't seem to get the memo was Anna. But Anna was so naive to think that there was more to him than a few great but pointless lay. Massimo never did those infantile, sappy nonsense; it was shallow, childish and fallible. And now, although he still has and feel the same notions, somehow this, she, felt different. The word more took on a whole other meaning.
He wanted to not just take her out to dinner but cook for her himself. He was known to be a frugal person. His expenses were all accounted for only the necessary expenditures. But seeing her reaction on the flowers he sent at the hotel, he wanted to indulge her. The romantic shit he was so vehement against was presenting itself more clearly .
He caught himself and felt his face pulled into a grimace.
Him?
The great Don Massimo Torricelli, a… a lovesick, fool-headed, romantic?
He was about to laugh at the ill-boding concept when Laura shifted in her seat, murmuring as she did so.
And just like that, all his thought process shut down.
She looked so peaceful, vulnerable, delicate. It made his chest ache again. But not in the way it did earlier, at the thought of her leaving.
No, this was somehow different. Like what it would feel like if his heart was reaching out, deliberately running out of his chest. Massimo gladly presumed that it was just man's natural and primitive response to a beautiful woman . His "little crush" as Mario was so indignant about. He remembered scoffing at that term, Massimo Torricelli don't do "crushes" since he was fifteen. Mario's presumption was and felt inane and insufficient. Laura deserved something more, a finer set of eloquent words he couldn't even begin to think and name.
His gaze lingered on her eyelashes. He was quite amazed at how it casted a shadow on her freckled cheeks. Her breathing was gentle and steady. Massimo gulped; his heartbeat picked up as he lingered on her lips which parted with every intake. Unbeknownst to him, he shifted closer, an inch, more or less, to better view her. He must look like a creep, but he didn't give a damn about it for once.
His hand was twitching to curl around a stray hair that had fallen on her cheek. And he was almost about to do it, but she did something that almost threw him off his chair.
Laura arched her back and moaned.
Of course, it wasn't prurient, just a casual purr one makes while in slumber. But Massimo, hot-blooded male that he was, stiffened all over. He gulped, closed his eyes and tried not to imagine her making those noises while underneath him.
When he opened them, he saw a soft smile on her lips. And for whatever dubious reason, Massimo found it sexier than everyone he has slept with.
A loud shriek from one of the children outside stirred her awake. Massimo scuffled in his seat as he tried to appear normal. He leaned his head against the window and faked sleep in panic.
"Massimo?" He heard her called; Massimo faked a loud snore for effect.
"Massimo?" He felt a slight tap on his arm before he finally opened his eyes. "We're here."
"Mmm?" He acted disoriented before sitting straight up. He deliberately avoided her eyes as he tried to get his bearings. "Oh. Right."
"Thank you for dropping me off."
Massimo nodded, choosing to arrange his cuffs rather than look at her.
"It's nothing." He told her. "Besides, I'm here to meet someone."
Is this it? Are they going to part ways? Is she not going to think about Osi's proposal?
Their footsteps landed beside each other as they made their way to the hotel. The hubbub of guests, tourists and, to his annoyance, more children mobbed the reception area .
"I'm gonna give your dress back once I get my settled in my new hotel." She said while absent-mindedly sliding her palms on the skirt of her red dress.
"It's yours." He cut in. "Don't give it back."
Laura frowned but the act of defiance ended there. She didn't say anything but just looked at him. He looked away first and pressed the up button for her. The slow descent of the lift from the upper floors was not unusual. Nevertheless , it was much appreciated. His sense of hopelessness charged the still air. Their twin somber expressions reflected on the gold mirror doors.
Massimo swallowed the lump in his throat. The insistent, voice of reason that was his brother echoed in his head. Say something, Massimo!
He took a sideway glance at her, bracing himself for the words that were still inexistent. Laura was staring at the glowing button, her expression vacant. She was gnawing on her bottom lip, her brows knitted. Her face was a mixture of nausea, wary and hesitance.
That's when it hit him.
Empathy has always been a strange feeling for him. He simply just didn't care, for anything, for anyone. He acted in ways and said things that would create the outcome he wanted, no more, no less. Everything was calculated and planned out. But standing beside her, he felt the strange feeling he felt at the piano room earlier, encompassing him once again. That weird feeling of wanting to be there for her, for support and, however alien it was, kindness.
"You want me to go up with you?" He offered as softly and friendly as he could so she wouldn't get the wrong idea.
Laura turned her head to face him. Her body language was sharp and abrupt that he thought he blew it. But as he inspected her for any aversion— an aversion he would gladly accept and respect— he couldn't help but notice her eyes . They were a rich color of turquoise— wide, imploring, telling. And yet he didn't know the meaning of this.
Was she offended?
"In case, you wanted me to knock a great deal out of someone." He added as an afterthought. Massimo cleared his throat, put his hands in his pockets and averted his gaze. He meant it as a courteous support, and not as a lewd way to get her to bed. As hard as it was to believe.
He felt his neck grew hot and tried to amend his previous statement lest she was worrying about his true intentions . "Not that you can't defend yourself or anything from whatever, whoever is up there. But you know… I'd be happy to throw a punch or two…"
She ejected a nervous chuckle followed by a deep sigh at his remark. "As much as I'd love to see that, that's not necessary."
"But I will appreciate it. Thank you." She said the last part as quietly as she could, like she was embarrassed to have asked for his help.
"It is no problem."
The elevator doors opened and Massimo allowed her to go in first. He raised a stopping hand at Alek before the golden mirrored doors closed on them. Laura leaned forward and pressed the P button. The still air was suffocating, mind bending in its quietness. Massimo focused on a runty dent on the door as Laura shifted on her feet.
"I originally booked a double room." Laura voiced, startling him in the process. Massimo looked at her, his hands still in his pockets. Their eyes met on the mirrored doors, his gaze imploring her to continue.
"But when we arrived the manager told us that we were transferred to the Penthouse suit." She explained. "I never got to thank Mr. Osano for it."
Massimo smothered a smug smile at her careful but wrong assumption. "Osi can be very generous to people especially to his friends. He only has a few so he tries to make them as comfortable as possible. But I'm sure he doesn't mind."
Massimo spared another glance and saw her paled as the lift ascend higher and higher. He was about to try and say something comforting when the doors split and the Penthouse foyer came to view. Laura took a giant intake of breath for courage before stepping out. He followed her suit.
What would actually happen if Bianka and Martin were there? On instinct, he adjusted his suit, feeling the cold metal of his gun against his clothes.
She fumbled with her purse. Nico had returned it to her earlier with all her effects. Except her phone which should be on its way up momentarily . Before Laura pushed the door open, he noted the small pause she made, as if to gain ground of her feelings once again.
Massimo craned his ears, willing them to hear past the thick walls and Laura's deep breaths. It wouldn't surprise him if Zalewski and Atnos still stayed in this suite; they're audacious and inconsiderate like that . The latch clicked and Laura finally pushed the door only to come face to face with…
A dumpster.
He and Laura coughed at the sight.
Scattered heaps of clothes, leftovers, empty bottles and other food packages covered every surface . The room smelt like pot, smoke and wet towels. But other than the mountains of litter, the penthouse seemed to be empty.
"Spotless, surprising." Laura muttered, sarcastic. She bent down to upend the barstool blocking their way. "To think, room service is just a call away."
"Pigs." He couldn't help but blurt out, stepping over a discarded banana skin.
"I'm just gonna get my stuff. In the meantime… " She looked up at him. "Make yourself… uh comfortable?"
"But how?" He derided, maintaining a deadpanned, disgusted expression. He couldn't fathom how hard it was for some people to clean.
When Laura disappeared to her room, Massimo opened the windows. The small opening allowed the sea breeze to finally pervade his grossed out senses. When the air was getting clearer, he found himself traipsing towards Bianka's room. Massimo nudged the door and found that some of the debris from the entrance seemed to attenuate in this area . Particularly the bed and the desk, surfaces its occupants must have cleared for... Massimo fought a wave of nausea and anger.
He pulled his phone out and dialed Nico's number.
"Pronto."
"Where are they right now?"
"They're having lunch at the restaurant across Baia Verde. The woman seemed pretty shaken. Did something happen?"
"Laura." He answered simply . Massimo's gaze fell towards the desk again. He walked over it and saw an envelope, courtesy of the hotel's. Two gaming club tickets peeked from the flap. Massimo picked one and digested the information. He turned to Nico again. "How do you feel about the The Institute tonight, fratello?"
He could practically see his brother's rictus smile. "Thought you'd never ask."
Laura upend her luggage and rolled them from the bathroom over her room. She took one last once-over to check that she hadn't left anything. Her eyes landed on the vase of peonies on her end table. Putting her purse down, Laura leaned a knee on the bed and reached for a single stem. The flower was still moist to touch, plump and beautiful, unencumbered by the mess that was her life. She pressed the flower to her lips, thankful for this small beauty.
She found Massimo half sitting on the back of the couch, the cleanest and unstained part. (She wondered if she was gonna get charged for this. She made a mental note to talk to Brusitz.)
He was talking on the phone, his Italian, flawless and eloquent. He had his arms crossed over his chest, his hand rested on the bulge of his other arm, making her eyes dart toward it. He hung up as soon as he saw her.
"I'm—"
"Osi—"
They both said at the same time. Massimo folded his arms again on his chest, now regarding her and the flower between her fingers. She was quiet, allowing him the moment to speak. (When in reality though, she was getting obscenely distracted by his arms, hence her wordless state .)
Massimo pressed on, the muscles on his upper body flexing. And to her embarrassment, she nearly drooled at the sight. "Seems like Osi booked you into another hotel already."
That made her snap out of it.
"What?" She felt the shame rolling down her skin. "He didn't have to."
"But he did." Massimo countered and stood up. "Don't worry, he knows the best accommodations in town."
"I'm not worried about that." She couldn't afford another fancy hotel. Laura figured that she could stay in a cheap studio unit near the market while she ruminate on her decision. Laura frowned at him as he grabbed the handle on her luggages. "I appreciate the help, Massimo but—"
"Is this all?" He interrupted, sounding a bit impatient.
"Yes. But you're not hearing me—"
After hearing her confirmation, Massimo pivoted on his heels, cutting her off completely.
Rude.
"Hey, I am talking to you." She pointed out, but followed him nonetheless. Massimo was rolling her old Hartmans into the elevator, mute, despite her protests to find a place on her own. He didn't say anything until they were descending the building's second floor.
Massimo muttered something in Italian, looking exasperated from her rambling. Finally, with an obvious roll of his eyes and resounding groan. "Do you always say no to everything?"
Laura pursed her lips. But before she could retaliate, the doors opened and Massimo flew out, muttering as he did so. Laura grabbed her luggages and stepped out. Domenico was standing by the corner, his shades askew and a toothpick dangling from his mouth. Massimo passed by him and the man straightened. Laura saw them exchanged a few, quick Italian syllables before Domenico looked at her. Massimo stomped his way towards the deck where a few business-looking gentlemen gathered. His bodyguards circled the private gazebo in a synchronized movements.
Domenico approached her with that boyish smile. "Do you need any more help, Laura Biel?"
She shook her head, glaring at Massimo who was also glaring back at her through the exterior glass. The man in front of him called his attention and Massimo turned to him with another impatient scowl.
"We can drive you to your new hotel." Domenico suggested eyeing her bags beside her. "It's on the way to where we're going."
"No. No, thank you."
"I see." Domenico nodded at her, smirking. "By the way…" he reached inside his sports jacket and produced a crisp white business card. "Osi told me to give you this. It's the details for the party tomorrow."
She accepted it with a genuine smile. "Thank you."
"So, we'll see you tomorrow, Laura Biel?"
Laura replied with a small, hesitant nod.
"Eccelente!"
Before she could give him a proper gratitude for all their help, she heard her name being called out in the hallowed halls .
Both adults swiveled on the heels to see Brusitz jogging towards them. In his hand was a palm-sized black box.
"Signorina Biel! Signorina Biel! Glad I caught you. I went up and knocked on your door but you weren't there." The hotel manager explained, out of breath.
"Don Torricelli told me to fetch this for you." He handed her the rectangular box of what now looked like a cellular phone.
Laura lifted the top part and saw a brand new phone, the same model as hers. "Mr. Brusitz, this is not—"
"Oh! Before I forgot, he wanted me to give you this as well." Brusitz dug down his pant pocket and gave her a small drawstring bag, the size of a phone. "We recovered this from the bar you went to the other night. Apparently , there was a commotion and it slipped under the counter."
She untied the knot and lifted the damaged phone in her hand. The gadget was slightly bent around the middle, the screen, cracked. A few parts were missing on the bottom part.
"It was irreparable. So I took it upon myself to get you a new one, Signorina. " Brusitz sounded pleased with himself. "I restored your old files, so you don't have to worry about anything."
"Thank you, Mr. Brusitz. I have to pay you back." She insisted, feeling ashamed for all his trouble.
"Oh, nonsense, signorina." Brusitz waved a hand. "We get brand new phones from a lot of sponsors. It's no trouble."
"No, no, no. I insist." She demanded, opening her purse.
"Signora Biel, it is fine." Brusitz closed his hand on hers to prevent her from pulling out her wallet. "It is fine." He persisted in a gentle voice, smiling at her.
"Are you sure?"
"Si, si! We have ten more in the office."
Defeated, she muttered a, "Thank you."
"Can I borrow it real quick, Laura?" Domenico asked, opening his palm to her.
Although quite surprised by the small favor, she obliged. "Sure, of course."
Domenico dialed a set of digits and placed the phone in his ear.
"Pronto?" She heard someone answer.
"Ciao, brother." Domenico turned towards the deck and waved his fingers where Massimo was. Their eyes locked again before Massimo made a show of hanging up his phone.
"Now, you have Massimo's cell, Laura Biel." Domenico laughed at his own antics and handed her phone back to her.
"I can see that. Great." She tried not to sound so sarcastic.
"If you won't go to the hotel Osi booked for you, at least let Brusitz help you in choosing a new place. You can get ripped off by a lot of scammers in the city."
"Couldn't agree more, Signor Domenico." Agreed the hotel manager who was rather excited to finally be acknowledged .
"And the transportation here is awful. Cabbies will try to swindle you out of money. The hotel can offer you a ride through the city, won't you, Brusitz?"
"Si, si! of course! Of course!" Brusitz concurred, his hands firmly behind his back. "It is also a complementary for the suite, your other… uh friends, didn't use it."
Fine.
"Alright. Thank you."
Satisfied, Domenico swiveled on his feet and waved a hand goodbye. "See you, tomorrow night! Ciao, Laura Biel!"
She caught Massimo's deathly glare before he faced his colleagues once again.
Her day took a quick, significant turnabout; she couldn't stop smiling.
Under the wide umbrella of a street gelato vendor, Laura waited, with childish anticipation, for her treat . She had been touring the city for quite a few hours now, delving, embracing as much culture as she can. Brusitz recommended his favorite hotel driver, Francis, to accompany her through her tour.
Francis was a stout, rosy little man with a babyish features. A thinning patch of hair covered his shiny head. His rotund belly protruded from his stomach, a few buttons of his shirt struggled to keep the flap closed. He was an entertaining, middle-aged man who seemed to know every street and everyone in town. He had that "fun uncle" vibe on him. He told her stories about his son, who was waiting to join the military. Narrated each pressing detail about the thief he helped find in some remote town in Catania. He shared his and his drinking buddies' typical night and drink preferences. Francis also told her stories about each place they've been, consolidating more vibrance on the many wonders of Sicily . Laura could hardly keep up with the man but she still very much enjoyed his company.
The sky was turning to a spectacle of pink, purple and orange but the inhabitants was relentless. They were still, probably hundreds of people milling out and about the tiny shops and bistros.
Francis lingered by the stall selling donuts and refreshments. He waved at her.
"Try this coconut water, signorina! Best in town!" He hollered at her just as the old female vendor gave her her gelato.
"Grazie."
"Lei è la benvenuta, signorina" replied the vendor.
Laura took to the fountain beside her and sat, admiring the hustle and bustle of the plaza.
Their last stop was a small outskirt town called Permiano, a few miles off the main city. Laura had asked Francis where to find vintage books and pieces of art she could take home. So, Francis drove them past terracotta roofs and faded limestones and arrived here.
She had had a lengthy conversation— it was more like more a remonstration— from Olga. Laura called and told her what happened with Bianka and Martin, and Olga couldn't be more furious. Like "I-will-fucking-fly-to-Sicily-the-land-of-my-trauma" kind of furious. Her best friend was as clueless as she was and Laura could tell that Olga felt really bad about it. Olga was the kind of person who was tough on everyone to hide her true concern. When Laura wasn't replying to her messages, Olga tried to contact Bianka but was, once again, left disappointed . It really didn't bother Olga, because she and Bianka rarely talk on the phone.
"Laura, you idiot. I only put up with her for your fuckin' sake!"Her bad-tempered friend had barked at her.
She didn't tell her about her fainting episode because if Olga knew, it was gonna be the last stra. She would really flyout to Sicily to come get her. Laura couldn't do that to her friend whom she knew had just started her job. A new job where she hadn't been blacklisted for improper behavior... yet.
Laura pulled the bags near her feet. Souvenirs for her family and few friends filled each paper. She fingered the vintage scarf she bargained from an old italian woman. It was for her mother who loves the apparel. Before she took off for a little sight seeing, Laura settled in her new hotel which was less fancier but preferable than Baia Verde . She called her mother from there. Again, she didn't mention the incident at the bar or her getting hospitalized. Or her recent resignation. Or Bianka. Or Bianka and Martin. (She flinched at her own enumeration of the past events. Never had her life been more… eventful before this weekend.) Instead of dilly-dallying, Laura straight up told her what's been bothering her for a couple of hours.
"You have to take it!" Cried her mom in her very, very enthusiastic voice. "It's a very good opportunity!"
"I don't know, Mama."
"—And you've always love Italy!"
"I haven't decided yet." She heaved a sigh. " I think I'm gonna say no."
Silence.
"Mama?"
More silence.
"Mama? Are you still there?"
"Laura Biel." Her mother's tone was loving but chastising. "if you're not gonna accept this job for our sake—"
"If I accept it, what will happen to you and Dad? To Julian?" She asked, remembering her brother who was still in college.
"We'll do just fine, honey. We're old, we can manage. And your brother has a full scholarship. So, I don't get what you're worrying for him at all."
"Well, it's my job to worry for all of you. "
"No, honey." She could see the smile on her mother's tone. "It's not. You can't keep waiting for your life to start. You're young so grab opportunities while you can. That is only if you want to."
"If I accept it, I may or may not be working with this guy, which I'm not really …" she stopped as she looked for the right words. "Let's just say, we don't see eye to eye. He always looks at me like I am doing something wrong by just breathing."
To her surprise, her mom laughed.
"You haven't let anyone stop you from getting something you want before. So, why are you already letting him?"
She tilted her head in agreement.
"Do you like the job?"
"What?"
"I said, this job they're about to give you, do you like it?" Her mom repeated.
She didn't answer but a small smile crept towards her face.
"Whatever it is, we'll support you."
"Thanks, mama."
"I love you, Laura." She said, before her tone changed to, almost disdainful. "And… Martin?"
Laura smiled; her mother had never liked her ex. "You will never have to tolerate him ever again, Mama."
"Good." She literally shrieked, no further questions asked. "Now, get off your feet and take a look around, breathe the city. If you still can't find something that will make you stay, Poland will welcome you back with open arms.
Laura observed her surroundings as she finished her viscid treat. She welcomed each sight with fresh eyes.
The tiny establishments around the fountain were archaic yet remained elegantly erected. The little round tables by the bistro covered a great section on the cobblestone.
The fountain was at the center of the plaza. Two elderly gentlemen sat on the curve on her right, playing chess. After them was small family of four. The mother was holding a chubby infant on her hip, while the father was reaching for the toddler who was picking out coins from the pool. A young couple, possibly newly weds, stood opposite from where she's seated, taking self portraits. Her fellow tourists ate and sat on the remaining space beside her.
Laura watched as the bookshop she went snooping earlier welcomed visitor after visitor. A gay couple lingered by the rather foggy window, laughing. The bakery adjacent to it, enticed a toddler who was now pulling his father's hand towards the open door, his little fingers up and pointing . Three women wearing hijabs walked past her, carrying colorful bouquets of flowers and vases . An old man riding a bicycle smiled at her direction and greeted her in Italian. She nodded and smiled at him as well.
She pondered over her decision, the pros and cons of the new job. Needless to say, it was tilting over her decision to not accept it. She couldn't just leave Poland, even it would only be a year. But amidst her qualms, she couldn't help but entertain the prospect that's been following her like some thought-balloon on a comic book . It was the prospect and promise of a new life, a new perspective.
So, will it be so bad if she stayed?
Regardless of the distance to her friends and family. Regardless of her unexplained annoyance at Massimo (who could be her new "boss", should she accept the job), Laura felt a sense of belongingness here . For the first time in a long time.
She pulled her phone and read her boarding ticket; she was to leave the day after tomorrow. She couldn't just leave Poland and live here even if it was only for a year. She was still sure that she could still find and secure a job on her own. There were so many things left to be done back in Poland. So many things that she, for the life of her, had always trouble of letting go.
AUTHOR'S NOTES:
Good news, the next chapter is 70% done. I just need a beta or someone who could write a gamble scene for me as I don't gamble or play cards at all. If anyone here has a spare time to help a girl out, the readers and I would really really appreciate it. :)