I crouched down and pulled on my suitcase, which had gotten stuck in the sand, so hard that I fell on my ass. I heard a click: the striking of a lighter. Someone standing over me. I blinked several times and stared.
“Maya?”
“Lucas?”
“What are you doing here?” he asked. I tried to answer, but everything that occurred to me was embarrassing, and before I could openmy mouth, he continued. “Were you honestly thinking of spending the night here?” He shook his hand and the flame went out. “Goddammit, I burned myself.”
“Are you OK?”
“I’m fine, what about you, though? You know it’s not safe to stay here by yourself.”
“I do know, but I don’t have any other options,” I replied.
“Why not?”
“I didn’t make a reservation,” I said. “I thought I could just get a room somewhere, but tomorrow there’s this important festival of some saint or other, and there’s not a single bed free in all of Sorrento.”
“Sant’Andrea in Amalfi,” he said, and I was sure he was grinning at me in the dark.
“Yeah, that one.”
“Thousands of people come every year.”
“I’m sure it’s just amazing,” I responded sarcastically.
He rubbed his face, and the silence stretched on long enough that I started to get uncomfortable. I didn’t like not seeing him clearly. At last, he said, “There’s one bed free in Sorrento.”
“Where?” I asked, full of hope.
“At my place. You can crash there if you like.”
I couldn’t believe it. I had a place to sleep, to change clothes, to wash. It was incredible. But then, I didn’t know him at all, and that scared me.
“Don’t get offended, but…” I paused, unsure how to continue. “I don’t know you, and going home with you is, uh…”
“You don’t trust me?” His voice was serious.
“It’s not that I have a reason not to, but then, I don’t have a reasontotrust you either.” I hugged myself, tired and cold from the damp air condensing around us. “I’m sorry, I just don’t know…”
“I get it. It’s normal.” I felt terrified when I thought he was going to turn and walk away, but he added, “Wait a sec,” and now that Iwas used to the darkness, I could see him taking something from his pocket. He turned on the flashlight on his phone.
“Here.” He reached out and handed me his ID. “Take a picture of it and send it to one of your friends, or your mom, or your boyfriend. You can tell them where I work, too. Does that make you feel more comfortable?”
I only needed a few seconds to respond. Lucas seemed like a good guy, and he was opening his home to me. He was trying to make me feel safe, and now he’d done it. It was a kind gesture, and it had worked.
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” I replied. Why was that the first thing I’d said? “I mean, I used to, but we broke up. He cheated on me with another girl, and that was that. So yeah, I could definitely use that spare bed if you really don’t mind.”
He smiled, making me nervous, and said, “Sure, no problem,” lifting up my suitcase as I grabbed my handbag. He told me to follow him and we walked in silence. He took a few coins from his pocket, walked past the stairs I’d taken before, and arrived at what looked like a tunnel carved into the stone with a sign next to it that read: LIFT-ASCENSORE.
“Are you serious?” I grunted. “There’s an elevator! I almost killed myself going down those damn steps!”
He laughed and shook his head. I followed him toward a ticket window where a woman was watching a tiny TV. He bought two tickets, passed them under a scanner, and guided me in. The elevator doors opened and we entered, and soon we were stepping out into a park overlooking the bay.
“This way, my car isn’t far.”
“What were you doing on the beach?” I asked.
“When I’m working the night shift, I always take a walk here and smoke a cigarette and listen to the sea before going home.”
