‘A little embarrassing, don’t you think?’ His eyes rolled over it with a condescending air that Stella didn’t appreciate.
‘Leave it alone. I can’t exactly afford a new one right now.’ She planted a gentle kiss on her hand and pressed it to the leather. ‘Shh. Don’t listen to him.’
‘Hopefully soon.’
Vincent’s free hand made its way to the small of her back and guided her from the moment. And it worked. Immediately, Stella’s defensive veneer shattered. ‘How did last night go?’
‘Last night?’
‘Your work call?’
He exhaled. ‘Pietro, one of the least experienced guys on my team, processed a whole campaign of shots to incorrect specs.’ He shook his head. ‘Tried to fix it himself, but just made things worse. I resubmitted just after midnight.’
‘Ugh. Late night.’
‘And an early start. I’m running on three hours of sleep.’
Stella studied the slightly darkened circles under his eyes and chose not to press the point. Perhaps that could account for the snip directed at her satchel? ‘I’m sorry. Are you hungry?’
‘Starving! I may not have slept much, but I got heaps of work done.’ He tapped his camera bag with his free hand. ‘Luckily, I packed a few extra batteries this morning. Managed to check off a few extra jobs, and had time to take some pleasure shots. Gives us some extra time today.’
‘Pleasure shots?’ Stella was intrigued.
‘Yes, shots that are just for me. Not work-related.’
‘That’s lovely. What did you shoot?’
‘Can’t tell you.’
‘What? C’mon.’
‘Then I would have to kill you and sadly, young lady, Rome has seen the spilled blood of many a vestal virgin in its time.’
‘I’m hardly a vestal virgin!’ she retorted.
‘Oh, I know!’ He poked, laughing and leading Stella out of the Campo de’ Fiori. ‘So, where’s the bar?’
‘Just down here. You’ll love it.’
Taking the lead, Stella guided Vincent through the busy market square, dodging tourists and locals alike. The sun was shining and the beautiful weather made for a wonderful morning of shopping and strolling.
‘Bar Luna e Lupa,’ he read the name on the sign that hung over the entrance. ‘Should we tell them it’s crooked?’
‘Don’t even get me started.’
Stella was excited to show Vincent where she was going to be spending her afternoons for the foreseeable future, and keen to have him finally understand the mural project, having seen it with his own eyes.
Then there was Marco, sweet and kind. Perhaps the guys would hit it off and become good friends? Both new to Rome and being creative, she hoped that this might spur a new chapter in their lives. Perhaps Marco could come spend time with them in Trastevere, and their little ‘threesome’ could extend a new branch to the lovely young Sicilian.
‘Permesso?’ She cautiously popped her head in the front door, noticing no patrons inside and no familiar faces behind the bar.
‘Ah, Stella!’ Giuseppe popped his head around the kitchen door. ‘Scusami! We’ve had a slow morning, so were in the kitchen makingpizzettefor the afternoon rush. Come in! Come in!’ He wiped his hands clean on his apron and joined them in the bar.
‘Ciao caro!’ She gave him a long firm hug, then stood aside to present Vincent. ‘Giuseppe, this is Vincent. Vincent, this is Giuseppe.’
‘Tsk . . .’ Giuseppe tapped his nose.
‘Sorry. Giuseppino,’ she corrected.
