“Since well before I was born. Paola’s like a nonna to me,” says Dario, straightening in his chair.
“Che cosa?” Paola comes up beside him. Several suited servers line up at her back.
“Sei come una nonna per me,” he repeats in Italian.
She smiles, revealing a few missing teeth.
“Mio tesorino” she coos before swapping out his empty salad plate for a fresh plate of mouthwatering pasta. Food is clearly her love language.
Thick noodles cradle a hefty white sauce dappled with finely grated cheese and specks of black pepper. The aroma is enough to send Charlie into a state of sheer bliss. He picks up his new, clean fork and feasts.
Ansel is the first person to break the strong spell of the spaghetti. “Dario, this is truly your home?”
“Si. This is my home. I live right in there.” He gestures toward the stone barn adjacent to the main villa.
Charlie questions aloud why Dario lives in the smaller of the two structures on the expansive property.
“I am only one person. I do not need all that space.” Dario stares down at his plate, swirling his noodles.
Charlie wishes he hadn’t asked. Clearly, he struck a nerve.
“You’re really going to let us stay here?” Michelle asks. Charlie hates to admit that he was thinking the same thing and glad someone else spoke it first. Seems like a wild invasion of privacy. Not to mention a massive inconvenience. But then again, when you have this much, it would be wrong not to share it.
Dario nods.
“Why?” Ansel asks. “I assumed we’d all be in a luxury rental in Perugia proper. This is so much likeDer Bachelor!”
“It’s for the promotion, obviously,” Selina says. “Nobody here knows branding better than me. Amorina is a chocolate brand that started in the home. What better way to underline that than inviting potential suitors into the home of the new head of the brand? You are the new head of the brand, right?”
“Since we have such a short time together, this is also easiest for me to get to know you,” Dario says, but sounds as if he’s holding back.
“This is just like when Juliette Boucher fromThe Luxurious Ladies of Provencelaunched her own shoe line and gifted the other luxurious ladies a lifetime supply of Boucher Booties,” says Michelle.
“But we’re not getting a lifetime supply of chocolate,” Ansel says. “It’s not at all like these Lavish Ladies.”
“LuxuriousLadies,” Michelle corrects under her breath. Then louder: “If one of us marries Dario, then we can have all the chocolate we want, right?”
“Right,” Dario says, clearly having a hard time following the rapid volley of conversation across the table. Charlie is right there with him. The varied accents don’t help either.
“You saidifone of us marries Dario. Isn’t one of usgoing tomarry you?” asks Beau.
“There are no expectations on this experience. It was simply my grandfather’s final wish for me to meet people from all walks of life from different parts of the world that I may not have crossed paths with otherwise. There are no obligations. You are all here to relax and enjoy. If at any point you decide you are not interested in me, that is completely fine and you are still welcome to stay the whole term of your winning,” he says.
This isn’t a surefire thing?Charlie sags a bit. He got on the plane under the assumption he had a one-in-five chance of being engaged by the end of the week. He was floored that he was selected in the first place—reading and rereading the email to make sure it was not some sort of awful joke.
In this case, his game plan for winning Dario over might need to be more aggressive. Beau’s got the voice, Selina’s got the looks, Michelle’s got the style, and Ansel’s got the charm. What does Charlie have?
“I did not notice any release forms in the paperwork we signed earlier,” Michelle says, changing the subject.
“Why would there be release forms?” Dario asks.
“I assumed a camera crew would be documenting this…” She peers around as if she may spot hidden cameras among the landscaping disguised to look like birds or flowers.
“This is all private,” says Dario with a new firmness. “While the contest did drum up a lot of excitement for Amorina, I do genuinely wish to connect with all of you and see, um, what cooks up.”
Paola and her staff arrive with the final course, Amorina tartufos. Inside a hard shell of Amorina chocolate are tiers of gelato in the colors of the Italian flag. Cherry for red, vanilla for white and pistachio for green.
The conversation veers away from Amorina and the marriage scheme. Everyone goes around and talks about their jobs and their families. Charlie stifles several yawns in a row. The timedifference and the jet lag are catching up to him, but he will be damned if he lets a bite of this heaven-on-a-plate go to waste even if he is stuffed to the gills.
