“The lion symbolizes bravery, strength, and nobility. It was adopted by an ancestor who participated in the revolt against Spain in the 1640s, and has been passed down ever since, a reminder of how deep our roots go here.”
I wonder what that’s like, to have been in a place so long that everyone knows who you are and where you belong. For me, home is a new place that my parents built from the ground up, and all their hopes are grown into the promise of a place. What must it be like to be trapped by your family’s past instead of their future?
We’re laying out silverware when Nico asks, “So, what do you think of how the hotel is running?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“Of course.” Nico fiddles with a place mat. “Guest feedback is very important to us,” he jokes, but there’s an undercurrent of earnestness beneath it too.
“I love it. I always thought ‘five-star service’ was all about white gloves and red carpets and prosecco, but you have such impressive attention to detail, and you give your guests such individualized care. But… I also thinkthere are places where you can make things easier for yourself.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, my parents run a restaurant, and the thing they’re always drilling into us is speed of service, right? You have to make sure that you have what you need when you need it in the place where it is most convenient. A coffee station, for one.” I point to a bare section right by the entrance to the restaurant.
“A coffee station?”
“That way your mom won’t have to prepare separate drinks for every guest who asks. It’ll be right there for them when they want it.”
Nico looks thoughtful. “I suppose it’s worth a try.”
He lugs three large stainless-steel beverage carafes from the storage room, and we fill them with coffee, decaf, and hot water for tea. I arrange a vine of bougainvillea around a canister of biscotti and prepare lemon wedges, along with a ramekin of honey.
“Also, you’re not optimizing this space here.” I take a few stacks of the brochures that Nico keeps behind the desk. “So many people don’t know everything you offer. What happens if they come up to the front desk and you’re helping someone else? Why not leave out some reading material while they wait?” I lay a few piles on the counter, off to the side, so they’re visible but also not cluttering the airy lobby.
“I guess we’ve only ever done it the one way,” Nicoadmits. “It always seemed to work, so I’ve never thought to change it.”
“Give it a chance,” I wheedle. “If you don’t like it, you can always hide them again.”
“Okay, boss.” Nico bumps my shoulder, hand brushing mine when he neatens the brochures, and this time, I’m sure itison purpose, because he gives me a rakish grin, likemy bad, but alsowas that okay?
And I bite back my responding smile, because suddenly, the world doesn’t feel as so totally over as it had yesterday. There’s work to do, but it’s nice to have someone to do it with.
CHAPTER 25
By the time I wakein my hammock later that night, Nico is reading quietly with one leg hanging out, foot scraping against the ground.
“Hey,” I say, yawning and stretching my arms. “How long have you been out here?” My friend, the bird with the tangerine collar, is back, watching me cautiously from the concrete bird bath. It’s nice out here, quiet, and while it’s not the setting for the sexy summer escapade I had imagined, it’s lovely, and I’m lulled by the peace of it, the sense of easy comfort.
“A minute or so.” Nico closes his book. “Were you able to get any sleep?”
“I think so?” I check the time on my phone. No new messages. My sleep bank has been in the negative, so I’m surprised to see I’d managed to sleep for almost three hours. “What are you reading?” I sit up, steadying my feet on the ground.
Nico flashes the cover at me. “It’s on the Spanish Civil War.”
“What’s that, a beach read?” I joke, casting aside mybook—about a frivolous romance with enemies-turned-lovers trapped on an island in the middle of the Indian Ocean—to flip through his. I bite my lip. It’s the same book he’d been reading the night we met, spine worn and margins full of scribbled notes, but if he’s so certain he won’t be going back to university, why continue all the prep work?
“You seem to love it. University, I mean.”
Nico sighs, leaning back to look up at the stars. “Sometimes… the pieces in life just don’t align, no matter how badly you may want them to.”
“Yeah,” I say, because I do get it. I wanted so badly to get out of Georgia. I wanted so badly to make a relationship happen with Wes. I had been willing to be as flexible as he needed me to be, to be the kind of girl he wanted, but in the end, I just couldn’t force him to be someone who wanted me back, and I couldn’t force myself to be someone who was okay with that. We just don’t fit, and maybe we never did. “But is it that you genuinely don’t want to leave? Or is it that you feel the pressure to stay?”
Nico thinks on that. “Not a pressure to stay, but a pressure to live up to the life my family thinks I should live. They all keep saying that I’m off to do big things, but what if I can’t? What if all that work and all that effort and asking her to sacrifice the B and B so I can go off to Rome amounts to nothing, and then it won’t have been for anything, either?” He gets a far-off look in his eye, like he’s a million miles away, before he says quietly, “It’s good here,it’s comfortable. I could be happy here. I mean, how can you not?”
Before us, the moon shines down on the ocean, making the still water shimmer, and he’s right, Icouldeasily imagine being satisfied with this for the rest of my life. But he sounds resigned, pushed into a future that’s only good enough. Maybe some things only feel better because they’re easier, because you’re used to them. Easier to stay where you know you’re comfortable, even if you’re miserable, because at least it’s the devil you know.
“?‘Could be’ isn’t as good as ‘am,’?” I say, a decree. “The world is so big. I always knew that the only way I’d get to grow was if I left town—that’s why it kills me that I’m staying home for college and my best friends get to live my dream without me.” My heart’s pounding—I’m getting fired up and annoyingly, there are tears pooling at the corners of my eyes. “I’ve learned so much about myself being here in Italy. Not everything is something that I can be proud of, but I would have never known myself if I didn’t come here.”
