He gestures vaguely over the fence in front of us as though he’s going to hop over and start his adventure on foot. I grin around the mouth of my water bottle. This man is painfully charming.
“Off to…” I leave the end of that sentence for him to pick up.
“Not sure, to be honest.”
I laugh, and he looks proud.
“I am impressed! A holiday with no itinerary—that is rather brave of you,” I congratulate him.
“You say brave, I say stupid,” he replies, huffing out a deep sigh. “I’ve got a rental car, though, and I haven’t taken a vacation in four years. Before that, the last place I went was Chicago, so you can do the math there.”
I chuckle, happy to have found the one guest at the wedding who is handsomeanda good conversationalist. Not to mention, into men, if the way he’s been looking at me all night is any indication.
“Well, I think there is much to be said about letting the road lead the way,” I admit, staring out at the now rapidly darkening sky.
“Where would you go if you were me?” he asks. I turn to him, stepping a little closer and leaning my hip on the fencepost. A small breeze sends a waft of aftershave my direction, and I’m gratified to find he smells a little bit like a Viking, too. Earthy and manly, like a campfire in the woods; with skin briny after a day spent on the sea.
“Mm, well, how high up on your bucket list is the Tower of Pisa?”
“So low, it doesn’t even make the top hundred,” he replies shortly. I smile and he returns it, eyes crinkled with joy.
“Oh, I knew I liked you, Roman.” I tease out another blush with that one, which is lovelier each time I see it. “You’ll find people divided on Pisa, but I thought it was rather underwhelming. Just my opinion. Florence is worth a visit, as is Siena. Both are in the Tuscany region.”
“Florence is where theDavidis located, right? I do want to see that,” he admits sheepishly, as though I might give him a hard time for wanting to see tourist destinations.
“You should,” I agree. “It is impressive. Some tourist things are popular for a reason. Others”—I teeter my hand back and forth in a so-so motion—“are less worth the effort.”
“I do want to see Rome. And maybe Lake Como, but?—”
“—they are in opposite directions,” I finish, handing him the water bottle and watching his lips as he takes a sip. “If you wish to go south, there are many destinations worth your time, though. Amalfi, Puglia, Matera.”
“Pompeii,” Roman adds, perking up.
“Correct. Do you enjoy history?”
“I do. I’m a little bit of a hermit, to be honest. I work from home and don’t get out much, so I watch a lot of documentaries and Discovery Channel.”
“Do you watch with your partner?” I ask, tilting my head to the side and watching his face. I enjoy flirting and having no-strings-attached fun with tourists, but I won’t be the ignorant third party in a relationship, no matter how disposable. Holiday flings are meant for the single, not the spoken for. Roman looks surprised by the question, at first, before his mouth tilts upward into a pleased grin.
“No partner,” he tells me. “You?”
“No. It’s just me.” And it’s been just me for a very long time. I love traveling and meeting new people, but a vagabond life is not favorable for fostering long-term relationships. Not unless your partner is traveling with you.
My bed has been little more than a revolving door these months on the road, and while I certainly enjoyed myself, I’m exhausted. I’m tired of shallow, meaningless conversation with men who don’t bother to remember my name. I’m tired of working weddings and watching people in love make vows of forever, while fielding advances from guests who think the staff belong to them. I’ve been in Italy for months, and have worked four weddings in that time; not once have I given a guest more than a passing glance.
Not until Roman.
“Well, are you staying near here?” he asks hesitantly. “Maybe you’d like to go out to dinner tomorrow?”
“Aren’t you off on your adventure tomorrow?” I ask, arching an eyebrow and pretending my heart doesn’t burn with pleasure at the offer.
“I can wait another day,” he says quickly.
Oh yes, I got lucky indeed. I stare up at his eager face.
“Sure. Dinner would be nice.”
He beams at me. “Oh good. Do you want?—”
