He was in a good mood, and I noticed he’d warmed up to me some after our shared love of the song.
“What does…” I thought back on the Italian words Naz had spoken when I’d asked him if he’d ever watched a woman getting dressed, and he’d said no, followed by the words I was butchering.
Beni tightened his face. He was really working up a sweat trying to translate the garble I had mentally fed him. His faced relaxed after a second or two. “Something like…And I will never, not after you?”
I patted his shoulder, thanking him.
Naz looked between us when he came out of his room holding a set of keys. He set a hand on my lower back and ushered me to the door. We left in a black Lamborghini Huracan Performante. The inside of the rims was neon green, and a strip of Italian colors—green, white, red—was on the bottom part of the doors. Beni decided to walk.
“Why didn’t we walk?” I asked.
He nodded to my shoes.
“You really are a knight, you know that?”
He gave me a half grin and drove like a boss to the rooftop restaurant. It held the most spectacular views of the Colosseum. We ate al fresco, and even though it was a bit windy, the weather was perfect to eat outside.
After dinner, we enjoyed drinks, the conversation light. We all seemed to relax as the sun started to set. I stood and took my wine to the edge of the balcony, watching as it set Roman history on fire for the umpteenth time, though it could never turn it to ashes.
Not in Rome. The Eternal City.
Naz came to stand next to me, and I looked toward him. He looked down at me and our eyes met, the setting sun burning between us.
I grinned a second later. “It must be amazing to live here.”
“It is my home, but so is the sky.”
“Is that why you became a pilot? You have wings that can’t be clipped too?”
“We build our own cages,uccellino selvatico,with our fears and self-appointed rules.I am as free in the sky as I am on the ground. The choice is mine where I go.”
“I like that,” I said. “The idea that we can be happy flying or rooted. We can be free to do whatever we want to do.”
“Nazzareno.”
We both turned at his name being called. A man who looked like a different version of him was standing next to Beni. A woman stood to the side. She had long dark hair and light brown skin. Her eyes were hazel, more on the light green side, with gold streaks around her pupils. She was stunning.
Naz took my hand, and we walked over to them. The two men shook hands and then gave each other a one arm hug. Naz introduced him as Valerio, his cousin, and the woman next to him as Naomi. Naz didn’t mention who Naomi was to Valerio, and when he introduced me, it was the same.
I guess we all had complicated situations we couldn’t put a label on.
Valerio and Naomi took seats at our table, and the conversation flowed as easily as the wine. It seemed like Naz and Beni hadn’t seen Valerio in a while, and they had a lot of catching up to do. Valerio asked to speak to Naz and Beni in private. Family business, I was willing to bet.
That left me and Naomi.
We made small talk. She was a large-animal veterinarian in Africa. She enjoyed working with protected lions the most. Her family had land there. She had a soft English accent. She told me her father was of Kenyan descent and her mother was from Sweden, but she grew up in England until they moved to Africa to take over a wildlife sanctuary there.
Her eyebrows lifted when I told her I worked for a newspaper in New York.
“Vice City Press?” she asked.
“You’ve heard of it?”
“In this world, you’ll find it hard to find someone who hasn’t. I know Milo Furaha. He takes pictures of our lions.”
“It’s really a small world.” I smiled at her.
She was warm, much warmer than the weather, and beautiful in a way nature intended. I couldn’t find an ounce of fake about her. I could see her working with lions. She had a spirit as wild as a lioness. One that should never be tamed.
