Chapter 3 - Violet Hour
-Your lips are nettles, your tongue is wine
Your laughter's liquid, but your body's pine
The sound of the car's transmission shifting into a lower gear redirected Dominic's attention to the breathtaking sights on the outside of the vehicle.
Before him the hillside rose up and at the top, the glory of Volterra dominated the scene. It was more spectacular than any of the hundreds of pictures he reviewed on Google images. So large and commanding before him – and in a way, intimidating.
"Gianna, what a spectacular city!"
His enthusiastic proclamation made her giggle.
"Yes, it does have many splendors. It would be my pleasure to give you a tour… but I'm sure you are very tired from your long journey. I'll take you straight to your apartment."
Dominic continued to gawk at the ancient sentinel on the hilltop. The buildings and surrounding wall were all made of the same mocha-colored brick, however the rooftops blazed fiery red in the setting sun. Two tall structures stood out noticeably from the rest.
"Is that the Octagonal San Giovanni Baptistery and the bell tower?" he asked while pointing toward the ancient structure with its eight-sided dome.
"Yes. I see you have done your research. The Baptistery was built in 1283 although the dome was not added until the 16th century."
"Are you a Christian, Gianna?" Dominic blurted out, but quickly regretted the pointed question as he saw Gianna's features slightly harden.
"I was Catholic as a child, but regretfully, I've fallen away from my faith. And you?"
"Yes, the church is actually what brought me to my trade. The reason I am so humbled to be granted the opportunity to work on a church as meaningful to the people of Volterra as St. Marcus."
Noting Gianna's change in demeanor, Dominic attempted to steer the conversation to something less personal. He scrambled to think of what do say next… "Do you know why the Baptistery is octagonal?"
Gianna's cheeks reddened in embarrassment. She knew all the structures of her adoptive city, but never searched out the religious symbolism behind them.
"I do not. Please share…"
While her words encouraged him to continue, he had the nagging feeling he was probably just spouting facts in order to impress her.
"The number eight is symbolic of the world beginning on the eighth day."
She nodded, but he could tell she had drifted off in thought. He was failing miserably at small talk. After a few minutes of silence, he tried again...
"So...vampires, huh?"
Gianna's sudden muscular tension in response to Dominic's words caused her to jerk the steering wheel. "What...what about vampires?" she stuttered.
"You know - St. Marcus - he rid the city of vampires. Like the Italian version of St. Patrick banishing the snakes from Ireland...kinda like? Maybe..."
He worried he had offended her in light of her strong reaction, and decided maybe he had said quite enough for the first day.
"Gianna, if it wouldn't be too much of an inconvenience, could you show me where I'll be working? I'd like to know if everything I shipped made it in one piece."
This was mostly true. Actually, the excitement of being in a new country and starting a new job was starting to wane, replaced by a twinge of homesickness and an undercurrent of exhaustion. However, he knew he couldn't rest until he knew his guitar had safely arrived. It could go a long way in relieving the uncomfortable, unfamiliar feeling of his new home. He wanted to have it in his possession as soon as possible. Maybe he shouldn't have sent it along ahead of him...
"Of course," she replied, quickly recovering her composure and donning a smile. "I know Ar – Father Aro – is anxious for you to start. He's also hoping you will be satisfied with the equipment purchased for your task."
"Thank you."
Some tension left Dominic's shoulders and the pair finished the uphill drive to the gates of Volterra in silence.
The streets of Volterra were ancient and narrow. Shadows lengthened and the sun disappeared from view, blocked by the three and four story buildings huddled closely together.
Gianna parked the midsized sedan outside a low, nondescript building attached to a large church.
"This is St. Marcus. Your workshop has been set up in this outbuilding."
Dominic rushed from the vehicle to open Gianna's door, but she exited as he did. He fell in step behind her as they approached the building. She removed a set of keys from her designer purse, unlocked the wide wooden door and swung it open. She flicked a light switch on the wall, and stepped aside for him to enter.
Dominic was immediately pleased, albeit a bit overwhelmed.
His work area was large. Approximately 500 square feet, more room than he ever had to work in! The walls were painted a fresh coat of white contrasting with the darker terracotta floor. As he scanned the room he noticed many large windows covered with a white coating. He was dismayed that the strange coating could possibly hamper the natural light he so loved to work in, but decided not to take too much issue as the there were several eight foot long fluorescent light fixtures hanging from the wooden rafters above him. There were several aluminum benches and tables throughout the room. In the center of the space was all his equipment – the tools he had sent along with the machinery that had been purchased for him. It appeared his new employer had reached deep into the collection basket and spared no expense…
A brand-new Glastar All-Star Grinder with all the accessories stood waiting – complete with a variety of specialty heads – top quality diamond ones, which he could never dream to afford. He had always made due with second hand materials – what others had put up for sale when they had upgraded.
Next to it was an equally shiny new glass band saw. His tools had been unpacked and laid out on a workbench or hung on the pegboard mounted above the workbenches.
"Whatever else you need, just let me know, and I can order it for you," Gianna added as she studied his reaction. The young man almost appeared to be staggering. The look on his face reminded her of her a child's expression on Christmas morning.
However, too soon, Dominic's face screwed up into one of near horror. Gianna followed his eyes to see what had displeased him so much.
"Wha...what happened to my guitar?" He sprinted over to his beloved instrument.
Dominic's voice held a biting edge of rage just below the incredulous words and Gianna flinched before rushing to fix the situation as best she could.
"Dominic, I am so sorry. It was damaged during shipping. I have contacted the shipping company to arrange for a claim to be made…but, it will take time…"
She fretted behind him, wringing her hands, unsure if she was more anxious about his currently contained anger or the prospect of failing at her mission so soon.
Dominic continued to stare at his damaged case and guitar. He spun around to find Gianna wide-eyed and looking very frightened by his outburst. Although he wanted to yell - and maybe throw an object or two - he immediately felt guilty for upsetting Gianna, after all, it wasn't her fault.
"It's alright. I'll just…I don't know." He swallowed hard and tried to smile to reassure her, but he could tell his grin was horribly lopsided and slightly less than genuine.
"We can get you a new guitar! Yes, we have many talented artisans living and working here in Volterra. I will purchase one for you – my welcome gift," she rushed, stumbling in English to soothe him.
"I'm sorry, Gianna. You've been very kind. I shouldn't have lost my temper." Dominic stepped closer to her wanting to take her hand for reasons unknown. Gianna fought the urge to shrink before him as she did whenever anyone – human or vampire – entered her personal space.
"I understand you are tired and upset." Her back stiffened and her eyes dropped to the floor. "I imagine you are hungry. I can recommend a small eatery. It is in walking distance from here and..."
His guitar was suddently forgotten, and Dominic impulsively blurted out, "Only if you join me."
"Me? You want to go…to dinner…with me?"
Dominic was uncertain as how to decipher Gianna's response. Was he so out of her league that she was stunned he would even consider asking her out, let alone ask? Then his rational side spoke up: hell, yes! She is way out of your league! Sophisticated in that European-kind-of-way, drop-dead gorgeous and…not a Midwestern farm boy's typical fare.
He swiftly backpedalled, trying to let her out of his preposterous invite while sparing her the chore of putting him in his place. "Oh, well, I know it's getting late. I'm sure you have a husband or boyfriend to be getting home to. If you could just take me to my apartment, I'll—"
"I'd love to," she said, with just the hint of a smile.
Dominic again froze and ran her words through his head again. She'd be glad to…what, exactly?
"What?"
"What?" she replied, looking as confused as he felt.
"I'm sorry, you'd be glad to … what?"
"Accompany you."
"To my apartment?"
"To dinner! Didn't you ask me to dinner?"
"Yes, yes, but I thought—"
"Then, yes, I would like to go with you to dinner."
Dominic reflexively ran his hand through his hair several times before composing himself enough to reply.
"Really? Okay, great. Um, where are we going again?"
Gianna laughed at his awkwardness. It was endearing, actually. And honest.
"I'll just freshen up, if you don't mind, and we can walk across the street to the restaurant. Excuse me."
She turned and walked further into the room where it connected with the church. Once she was out of sight, Dominic paced back and forth several times. He noticed his palms had become sweaty again and paused to wipe them on his pant legs…then he resumed pacing.
Gianna smiled as she rounded the corner to the restroom, clutching her purse. She could feel Dominic's eyes on her as she exited the room. The strategy seemed to be working out very well so far.
Her mind must have been distracted by the plans for the evening or else she would have noticed him – or maybe not.
A frigid hand wrapped around her mouth and waist, yanking her into a dark corner before she reached her destination. She recognized the scent and the coldness, but still she couldn't restrain the human need to scream. His hand effectively muffled the sound.
He pulled her close to his body and he hissed into her ear, "Very nice!" His voice was a mixture between a sly hiss and a coo. "A dinner date with our young American farm-hand. He is quite smitten with you, my dear. Young men are such slaves to their libidos, aren't they? You play him very well."
Only after Gianna had gone limp in resignation did he release her. She did not turn to face him.
"Lord Aro, I'm glad my efforts please you."
"Do not keep our young…man…waiting! And deny him nothing he requests. Do you understand?"
Gianna knew exactly what Aro meant. She felt bitter bile rise up in her throat as she turned to face him, her eyes downcast. "I understand, completely.
Faster than Gianna could comprehend, Aro's hands shot out and pulled at the top of her blouse. Buttons could be heard tapping onto the hard floor over Gianna's muted gasp.
"There." Aro grinned with satisfaction at Gianna's exposed cleavage. "Now you are ready. Go."
Gianna spun on her heels and out of the shadows, clicking rapidly back to where Dominic stood.
"Sorry to keep you waiting. Are you ready? We go now?"
"Are you alright?" Dominic thought Gianna looked a bit spooked.
"Yes, just hungry I guess."
She tried to lead the way, but quickly noticed Dominic was still glued to the spot. When she turned to inquire about his delay, he asked, "Do you smell something…funny?"
"Funny?"
Realizing she might not understand the connotation of the word, he rephrased, "You know, unusual. I smell something like cotton candy. Very sweet."
Gianna shrugged. "I don't smell anything."
"Never mind. Let's go," he said with a shrug.
The atmosphere at the small trattoria was everything Dominic had ever seen on TV about Italian restaurants. It was small, dimly lit, filled with lively conversation, and a candle topped each intimate table. He even glanced around expecting to see a violin player waltzing over to serenade them.
He listened intently as Gianna ordered their dinners in Italian. Dominic nodded and smiled politely at the waiter as he departed for the kitchen.
"What did you just order?" he smiled, amused she had placed an order for him without asking his preferences.
"I ordered you an authentic Italian meal. Not that Americanized food they serve as 'Italian' in your country," she teased.
"Will you tell me what to expect?"
"No, it will be a surprise. You like surprises, Dominic?" Her voice lowered and she leaned in towards him from across the table, her ample bosom smooshed against the tabletop, and her cleavage captured her companion's immediate attention. Dominic started thinking about dessert…two scoops of gelato sprang to mind.
The waiter returned with a bottle of Chianti, a red table wine. Once their glasses were full, and the bottle left in the center of the table, Gianna proposed a toast, "To a successful partnership!"
Dominic raised his glass. The clinking sound was almost musical.
Gianna downed her whole glass, and poured herself another. "Let me explain how we eat in Tuscany! First, our waiter will bring us antipasti. It includes Prosciutto, salami and ham, marinated vegetables, a selection of cheeses, and, my favorite, roasted red peppers from the region. The next part of the meal is called primo. I ordered us the house soup and gnocchi." She took another long drink from her wine glass. "Secondo is the main dish. Here the house specialty is roasted chicken. And you will love the homemade bread! But I will let you choose dolce – dessert."
Dominic smiled. She seemed genuinely excited to explain the traditions and customs of her country. It pleased him. He raised his glass, "To my first authentic Italian meal. From the sound of your tantilizing description, I hope to enjoy many, many more."
As the wine and food flowed, Dominic found conversation with Gianna to be very comfortable - much more relaxed than it had been earlier that day.
After an exhausting conversation about his trade, she asked, "Tell me about your hometown. The name is very unusual. I imagine it has a rich history, no?"
"You mean Wakarusa?" Dominic laughed heartily. "The name 'Wakarusa' comes from a word in the local native American language meaning 'knee deep in mud'."
His laughter was infectious and Gianna had to laugh at his embarrassment. But it didn't deter her from asking him more questions: where he was born, had he always lived in Indiana, what was life like on an American farm, what college was like, and on and on.
Dominic found it easy to talk about himself, and it was only when it was time to order dessert did he realize he knew very little about her. He felt selfish only talking about himself.
"Tell me about you, Gianna. What do you do at St. Marcus?"
"We have very little staff. I basically take care of all the affairs Father Aro doesn't handle himself. I handle the day to day things: bills, public relations, overseeing any work that has to be done at the church or on the grounds, you know."
Dominic noticed Gianna averted her eyes, where before, she had been very focused on his face.
"Are you unhappy here?" He attempted to interpret her body language.
"No. I care for St. Marcus and St. Marcus cares for me. It is all I have. No boyfriend or husband."
Dominic respected her desire to not elaborate – at least for now. He smiled and poured them each another glass of wine. He raised his glass. "To St. Marcus."
"Yes!" Gianna replied. "To St. Marcus." She downed the glass. Dominic cocked an eyebrow. He had heard Italians enjoy their wine very much...
After dessert, Dominic rubbed his full stomach. He definitely could get used to Italian dining. Although he wished to continue his conversation with Gianna, he could feel his eyelids getting droopy.
"I think I should go. I'd like to get a good night's sleep before my first day of work," he suggested.
"Of course," Gianna agreed, but as she stood, she teetered a bit on her heels. "Oh, my. Too much vino," she giggled.
He like the sound of her laughter.
Dominic moved quickly and took her arm to steady her. The unaccustomed warmth of his touch caught her off guard and she jerked away.
In response, Dominic took two steps back. "I'm sorry, but maybe I should drive?" Dominic stuttered realizing her had crossed a boundry of some sorts.
Gianna handed him the keys to the car as they exited the restaurant. Regretting her stand-offish behavior, she clung to his arm. He could smell her exotic perfume – unlike anything he experienced on the women he had dated in Indiana. It was as intoxicating as the wine.
They crossed the street to the car and drove the half-mile drive to Dominic's apartment. As Gianna unlocked the door, Dominic unloaded his suitcases and now useless guitar.
His apartment was an efficiency style: one large room with a kitchen area immediately to the right of the endtrance, and a separate bathroom. A small counter-top height table with two chairs sat adjacent to the kitchen. The living area was furnished with a couch, coffee table, and a TV on a stand. It was functional, simple, and he liked it.
"You like?" Gianna asked as she watched his expression.
"I do, thank you. But can I ask one more question, where do I sleep?"
"Oh, over here," she walked to a strange outcropping in the wall. "This is called, um, a Murphy bed, I believe. The bed comes out of the wall. Saves space."
Dominic felt a bit foolish, but no one in Wakarusa had a Murphy bed, how was he supposed to know what they were... "Thank you. And please thank Fr. Aro for me."
"I will. I had a very nice time with you, Dominic. But I do think you need a nickname. I will think of one." With that she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "See you tomorrow. You know the way?"
"I do. But, are you sure you should drive?"
"I'll walk from here. I only live a couple of buildings down, closer to St. Marcus." She smiled and Dominic drew in a swift breath. "We are sort of neighbors."
She affectionately pinched his cheek and left, closing the door unhurriedly behind her.
Alone for the first time, Dominic sighed. His belly was full, his head buzzed with the effects of too much red wine - and the scent of Gianna.
"I think this will work out just fine," he said proudly to himself.
A/N: Thank you for reading. I've posted pictures of Gianna, Dominic and a new pic of Volterra where you can see the Octagonal San Giovanni Baptistery and the bell tower on the FI blog at twiliteaddict(dot)tumbler(dot)com. Link also available on my profile.
What's your thoughts on this little scheme of Aro's and Gianna's?
Hugs and love to RowanMoon, RosaBella75 and Ashling92
Chapter 4 will be posted next week.
