‘Get out of here?’ She was incredulous. ‘And go where, exactly?’ She hadn’t completely turned on the sass vibe, but her demeanour definitely tightened.
‘My office. It’s not far from here. Maybe ten minutes or so. It closes every night at eight. No one will be around.’ He dangled something in front of her. ‘Here’s the key.’ The look on his face indicated that he meant business, and at that very moment, he was in the business of sex.
‘What are you hoping for, Vincent? That I will come back to your office, sleep with you, and then . . .?’
‘And then, we go again.’
He tried to lean in for another kiss, but Carlotta was too quick for him. Pulling back, she made her intentions quite clear.
Standing, she tossed on her leather jacket and gathered her belongings. ‘Vincent, I don’t think so.’
‘What do you mean?’ Confused, he shook his head.
‘I won’t follow a man I hardly know to an empty office to have casual sex because it’s convenient for him. How often do you do this?’
‘Dowhat?’
‘You know exactlywhat. This! This . . . wine-and-dine routine. Do youactuallysleep with women like this?’ Her voice was forceful and designed to attract attention.
Realising he clearly wouldn’t be sleeping with her, he had to save face. So Vincent shared a truth, a truth so horrible, it sent Carlotta into a daze. ‘Yes, actually. I’ve had three already this week. Monogamy is for spineless dreamers. For fairytales.’
It felt as if the ground beneath her feet might give way. She knew he was doing wrong by Stella by just being there – the kiss, the messages, the flirting – but this? Vincent’s revelation showed the true extent of his unfaithfulness. What was worse, he didn’t seem to care. He was indignant, almost petulant.
She turned and got out of there as fast as she could. Bolting down the street, Carlotta turned a corner, seeking refuge in the shadows. The thought of breathing the same air as that lowlife made her skin crawl.
Peering around the corner, she saw Vincent leave the bar a moment later. He was walking in the opposite direction, and Carlotta saw him take his phone from his pocket then place the receiver to his ear. Who was he calling? Stupidly, Carlotta assumed he might be calling her, begging for forgiveness or at least to apologise for his terrible behaviour.
He didn’t.
She stared at her phone:21:30.
Having lasted an hour, she was proud of her efforts. They had achieved what they had set out to do; to catch Vincent in the act.
When the coast was clear, she snuck back into the bar and dropped onto one of the stools at the service counter.
‘I’d offer you another wine, but I think you’ve had enough.’ Giacomino poured her a sparkling water and topped it with a lemon wedge. ‘Here.’
Guzzling it down, Carlotta felt immediately refreshed. ‘Thanks. Tell me –please! – did you get some good photos?’
He slid his phone across the mahogany counter. ‘Take a look.’
Swiping through the collection, Carlotta was relieved. Giacomino had captured several of Vincent stroking her hand, his longing stares, there was the kiss –manyof the kiss – and of their exit. ‘This is incredible. Thanks so much.’
‘No, wait. This is the best part.’ Flicking through a few more pics, he handed the phone back to her. It was a video recording.
Carlotta’s hands clasped over her mouth. ‘You didn’t?’
‘I did.’
Fumbling to right her phone in her trembling hands, Carlotta dialled. The call connected within seconds. ‘Marcella. It’s done. Organise what you need for phase two. This must endnow.’
venticinque
‘Buongiorno!’ Marcella shrieked, bursting into Stella’s bedroom, causing the door to bang on its hinges. ‘Buongiorno, Stella!’ She flicked the covers off Stella, much to her dismay and shock.‘Buongiorno,Roma!’ She violently thrust open the window and external shutters, flooding the room with piercing white light and cold morning air. Leaning out the window she called down into Via di San Calisto, ‘Buongiorno,Trastevere!’
A passer-by replied with an obscenity, clearly not sharing in Marcella’s happy morning wake-up call.
‘Grazie!E vaffanculo, signore!’ Marcella responded.
